Sugar, Spice and Anything But Nice

Bonus: Undercover

Carter

"It's just you, man," Bruce, my colleague said. There was a hint of concern and guilt hidden behind his old green eyes.

"Just me? Isn't that dangerous? We've been following this case with a team for years," I said, feeling deflated. God damnit, I really didn't feel like tracking the cartel on my own.

Gradually, over the years, the team got smaller because we kept hitting a dead end. I agreed to keep working on it with my partner Bruce. We'd been a small team of our own. Now he said he was taking some time off to focus on other stuff.

I understood though, Bruce had been attached to that case ever since the beginning. He'd lived and breathed the cartel. The man was heading towards a burn-out and I was glad he was taking some time off.

"With our new contact, we can't give up altogether," Tim, my boss, said.

Bruce and I were both seated opposite him. He had the DD cartel files scattered across his desk.

"Right. You're right, I know," I sighed. There were two options; I'd either hit a dead end again and we would give up on the case for a while or I'd find something and I'd become head of a new team.

Or they'd kill me if they'd catch  me.

I tried not the think about the latter. Being in charge of the DD cartel investigation team, now that would be a great career move.

"If you say you need a break from the case too, we'll put another cop on the case," Tim told me. There was no judgement in his voice. He knew how exhausting and time consuming this task could be.

Bruce had this look on his face that said I shouldn't give up all that we'd worked for. And I wouldn't.

My ambition wouldn't let me.

"I'll do it. I've been involved in this case since the beginning of my career. It would be an honor to finish this," I answered.

There was a small smile etched on Tim's face.

"Alright, let's get to work then," he said, mostly to get us away from his office.

"You sure about this, man?" Bruce asked the moment we closed the door behind us.

"Whatever, the past few months we've been waiting in our car and talking to our contact. It's not like things are gonna escalate any time soon," I shrugged.

"You're probably right. Although, now, there will be no one to keep you focused. When you see an ice cream shop, for the love of God, control yourself," Bruce teased. "There's nothing worse than being a stereotypical cop with a beer belly."

"Bruce, that's you, not me," I joked.

Killing time in a car together definitely created a bond between me and the old guy. He taught me so much about this profession and for some reason I wanted to make him proud. No more impulsive ice cream costs for me.

"And if you need anything, call me," Bruce said while patting my shoulder.

"No way, you need to book yourself a ticket to the Bahamas and get out of here. I'm serious, I'll be fine," I tried to reassure him.

Bruce left soon after. This evening my first solo stake out would begin. And as I predicted, it was boring as hell.

I waited for hours near a warehouse  where I knew dealers were active. It was surprisingly quiet around the neighborhood. Maybe they caught onto us and found another place to do business. It was the only thing I could come up with. Bruce had always argued against that, he didn't want to leave this place just in case someone would show up.