Adrien S. Sanchez. That's what my squad calls him anyway. I call him ass (which happens to be an acronym of his name). He's the leader of the biggest drug cartel currently in Miami. He's smart, fat and very mexican which works to my advantage. Not the smart or Mexican part, but being fat because right now I happen to be chasing him threw downtown. The only thing playing to my disadvantage would be my backup is late and it is Mardi-Gras.
I should probably rewind and tell you how I happened to stumble upon Mr. Sanchez. I'll say this though, it wasn't easy, probably the most difficult case I have ever worked in my entire life. It started about seven months ago when we found three bodies in an abandoned warehouse, tortured and burned. It was later that we found out that these guys had their fate decided for them by, the one and the only, Adrien S. Sanchez. At this time, the guy was practically a ghost. No record, no birth certificate, nothing. If it wasn't for the lovely forensic work by Emily Green, we would have never tied drug dealers into it.
That wasn't the end of the murders though. Bodies began popping up all over the place. We then started to think that we were dealing with something bigger then our initial ideas. Our profile of a small time drug dealer turned into the leader of the biggest illegal drug opperation in the city. Maybe even in Florida.
After that, he moved safe houses almost on a daily basis leaving bodies in his wake. But of course, every criminal makes a mistake and he didn't kill one of his victims, instead, left him with a foot in the grave in a ditch where a cab driver picked him up. We found out about this phenom and immediately interviewed the victim. He gave us what we needed to know. The name.
The rest is pretty irrelevant really. I know, seven months could easily summed up into two paragraphs. Now you get the fullness of the irritation I felt and the consistent ache in the back of my neck which reminded me of how badly I wanted to catch this guy.
God granted me my wish, because here I am, chasing Mr. Sanchez threw the crowded streets of downtown Miami. My gun was gripped tightly in my hand and I was more then ready to give him what he deserved.
My speed was steadily conflicted by the scenery around me. All I could make out were blurs and bright lights, but I didn't lose him. Not once.
And then, he made the 'wise' choice of running into a hotel. I was quick to follow. Not his best move I could assure you, but then again, following him wasn't mine either. With nowhere left to go, he went to the roof where it all went down.
