The Silver Ninja®: A Bitter Winter (Extended Preview of published book)

Chapter 6: Washed Up

CHAPTER 6

Washed Up

Alone on a steel bench with no cushion or sheets, Cindy was on her back staring at a stone ceiling, shivering in a cold cell. She was placed among the faceless wretches she used to put away: the poor, the wicked, the ignorant, the greedy, the hopeless, the fallen. The corridors thundered with the clash of barred doors and rattled with the jingle of keys.

The rats squeaked between cells and roaches skittered along the brick walls. Officially this place was named the Manhattan Detention Complex, but everyone called it the Tombs. Though the jail was cold, smelly, and utterly repulsive, it was still better and safer than Riker's Island. A trip to Riker's Island in her condition would have been a death sentence. Maybe that's why they put her in a cell by herself.

Piece by piece her identity had fallen apart and melted in the palms of her hands. She had become one of them, one of the bad guys. She remained on her back, rubbing her cold arms with her hands. She closed her eyes and thought about what Commissioner Gates had said. It was your fault Danny died. Your fault. The worst part of it all? He was right.

Two and a half years ago, Cindy told her partner, Dan that she wanted to become an undercover narcotics detective. She fantasized about infiltrating a gang in order to takedown a kingpin. Dan, who was also the commissioner's son, laughed so hard he choked on his own spit.

"Why are you laughing at me?"

"Do you really think a small, pale, white girl like you can go undercover as a smuggler? An enforcer? Not in this town. Your options are going to be A. girlfriend B. meth addict or C. hooker. Just because you speak Spanish don't mean you got what it takes to infiltrate a gang."

"Yes I do. I'm tougher than I look."

"It ain't about fighting, Cindy. Or being hard. It's about you being a white woman. Even if you got a Hollywood make up guy to make you look like trailer trash, ain't no gang around here going to take you in."

"I can prove myself."

"You're naïve. The only thing that's going to happen is this." Dan pressed two fingers into her temple and pulled the trigger. "So unless you want to open your legs to a bunch of Johns with STDs, you ain't ever gonna go undercover."

Having grown up with a competitive little sister, Cindy didn't take well to someone telling her she couldn't do something. Even though Dan was right, she was going to figure out a way to infiltrate a gang, any gang. But in order to do that, she needed to do something drastic. She needed to execute something so big that the executives would put her next in line for promotion. She got in touch with a few contacts she had made over the years and made preparations for the biggest drug bust in the city's history.

After verifying the confidential Intel through cursory stakeouts, Cindy passed the information to the DEA and State Police who then shut down a Meth lab worth over thirteen million dollars. Her plan worked better than she had expected. Deputy Chief Hasan was so impressed by her work that he began talking to the higher ups about considering her for promotion to detective where she could then transfer into the ESU unit. Once the idea of joining the SWAT team entered her head, going undercover to join a gang lost its appeal. Breaching barricaded buildings with a team of commando officers was a much cooler proposition.

The clanging of a cell door pulled Cindy out of her memory. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and sat up on the bench. Assistant Chief Mohammad Hasan had entered her cell. He joined her on the bench and leaned forward with his hands clasped between his legs.