+18 - eps 6-11 - A unique city. A unique police team led by a unique woman. And an uptight fed set on a collision course.
On the second installment of the Blackbird Series, new cases push Brock and Gillian to work closer together, even in order t...
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That bugging sensation didn't go away over the next couple of days. And it only got sharper when, three days after the junkies' death, Aldana told her that Brian Hall from Vice had been trying to reach her.
"Too busy to pick up?" asked Hank, lazily watching Ron and Kurt work on their small scanner.
Gillian's face darkened, ignoring Hank's tease. Brian Hall was the head of Vice and her former boss, and he might call about something related to gangs or many other things. But he'd also been the agent in charge of the first case involving Gale Smith. Coincidences did happen?
The others traded a concerned look when they saw her walk slowly across the office, phone to her ear, and into the meeting room, to stand before the window as she listened to Hall. What was going on?
A few minutes later she showed up at the door.
"Lads, we're on," she said, her voice unusually grave. "T, we're gonna need the file I asked about for Banks."
They joined her in the meeting room. Tanya sat at the end of the table with her computer while the others took seats all around in silence. Gillian turned the plasma on.
"You all remember the case we worked with Vice and the DEA back in December, before the gala," she said, as the mugshot of a man showed on screen. "It was about nailing this man, Anthony Garcia, suspected of running the largest E and meth distribution ring in town." Gillian waited for them to nod. "After we nailed him, Vice decided to drop the charges on four of Garcia's street dealers and let them go, to tail them and find out if anybody took over the business Garcia lost."
Four pictures replaced Garcia's on the screen.
"This man, Gale Smith, was killed four nights ago. I visited the crime scene and everything points at an addicts' scuffle that went so wrong, that Smith and his friend killed each other. Text-book, lads, everything fits. But Hall just told me that last night Jim Mitchel, this other dealer, decided to treat himself with a private bender and ended up in an alcoholic coma. He died a while ago."
"Tell me about coincidences," muttered Ron.
Gillian grimaced. "Exactly. Garcia's cook cut a deal to testify against him, so now they're worried about his security. The DEA is helping Vice to transfer him to a new safe house, but it won't be ready until tomorrow. And Hall asked me if we can lend a hand to keep'im in one piece through the night."
"Oh, yes, let's babysit Walt." said Hank.
"Walt? How d'you know his name?" asked Aldana.
All of them turned to her and she raised her eyebrows, annoyed at their faces—what!
The others just shook their heads—hopeless.
"Google it, Al," said Fred with his placid smile. "Walt, cook, meth."
"What d'you have in mind, Reg?" asked Ron.
"Adding a decoy," she replied. "Two safe houses with an equal detail from us and the DEA." She turned to Tanya and Kurt. "I want one of you on standby around the clock, so flip a coin for the night shift. Hank, Fred, you lads go home and take a nap, 'cause we have an all-nighter. Al, Ron, you are on for the day shift starting at noon."
