The Next Day...

The morning sunlight peered through the curtains cracks, followed by a sharp, repetitive buzz breaking the silence. Eyes creeping open in response, Miela let out a groggy sigh and laid in bed for a moment.

Murmuring to herself with a faint hint of resignation, "Here goes another day... uuhhhh... Here's to hoping it's a good one...If not, there's always tomorrow..."

Sitting up, she yawned whilst reaching for the alarm. After silencing the alarm, Miela was left in silence with a slight daze. Despite this morning daze, she rolled over and with gentle fingers, reached in her drawer for a silver locket nestled within.

Upon opening it, a bittersweet smile tugged at her lips. The locket contained a photograph of her late father. This ritual. A silent moment of connection, lingering on the memories, all, soon to be gently hushed by a fact. He's gone, now residing in memory alone.

Miela fastened the locket around her neck, and with a bit of determination, an instilled resolve, she rose and prepped for work.

She wore a pair of shades, a tailored suit, collared shirt, stockings, and a pair of bow heels. After grabbing her hat and coat, she headed out the door and started riding her bike.

Sun shining and gleaming down the streets, Miela watched as all manner of folk were out and about moving with intent. The people, the cars, they all seemed to have a tale to tell. But, none of it mattered to her. She didn't know if she'd still have a job after today... Despite that, she pressed on.

It didn't take long for her to get to the station, after a small stroll down a few streets, she'd arrived. Miela parked her bike a little ways away from the entrance and walked through the entrance. Then, she did the usual. Entered the dimly lit reception area and dutifully punched in on the time clock. There was one differing detail, nothing out of the ordinary just, well... She needed to speak with her supervisor.

So, after clocking in, Miela went on to do just that. All while under the assumption that she'd be let go. She pressed onward, her feelings a mix of hope and fear.

"L-lieutenant Baksin, y-you wanted to see me?" inquired Miela, her voiced carried a hint of anxiety.

A moose sat in at the desk wearing a burgundy dress suit, she appeared to be reviewing some paper work and was smoking a Cuban cigar. Her office was spacious and neat, aside from the things one would find in an office, there was a vase filled with deep red Carnations sitting on her desk.

"Bennet, darlin, come in and close the door behind you." Replied Lieutenant Baksin, after exhaling some smoke. It lingered in the air, tainting it with it's sweet devilish aroma.

Miela tried to close it, but the door had been stuck on the carpet. After opting to use her weight to force the door closed, she climbed into one of the soft sofas facing Baksin's desk. The lieutenant watched, feeling a mix of pity and admiration.

Lieutenant Baksin had asked out of habit, and before she could cancel that request, Miela had already set off to. Still, Miela's determination eased her guilt.

"Bennet darlin, I'll be frank. We don't have the funding to revise this environment to facilitate animals of your stature. Meaning we'd normally have to let you go and I don't think that's fair."

The lieutenant dipped the ashes building up on the edge of the cigar and continued.

"But fortunately for you, senior detective Ramsis proposed a solution. It's, highly unconventional... but as long work gets done and no one's feathers are ruffled, which they shouldn't, I don't see why we can't make it work." Lieutenant Baksin explained, her tone exuding sympathy.

Another draw on the cigar punctuated the Lieutenant's words before she set the paperwork aside.

Fixing her gaze on Miela, Baksin continued, "Darling, you'll be paired with detective Simon, Wylock. He's to be a bit more understanding of your... unique challenges. Or, if you'd rather leave, we could try transferring you to another station, but I'll be honest honey, you're problems will unfortunately remain the same regardless of where ever you go. If you'd still like to work, You're to wait at your desk until he arrives. Clear?"

Miela fought back a surge of frustration. Her thoughts swirled with unspoken grievances. She had only needed for her coworkers to be a bit more mindful. She began wondering if that was really, too much to ask of them.

You oversized assholes!! Is it really that hard!?!...

"Crystal," Miela replied through gritted teeth, her composure unwavering despite the turmoil within.

"Good. Off you go then darling. Be sure to clo-I'll get it." Replied Lieutenant Baksin. After standing and walking over, she opened the door.

Miela hopped down out of the chair, and walked to the door.

Looking up, she thanked the Lieutenant and made her way to the modest desk nestled beside a large plant. Settling into her chair, Miela busied herself with the mundane tasks of organization, though her mind remained tethered to the weight of the day's revelations. As the minutes ticked by, she placed her head down on her arms, seeking solace in the quiet of her thoughts.

Shortly after, Simon arrived.

Squatting beside her, he gently tapped Miela's shoulder, his voice tentatively inquiring, "Detective, Bennet?"

Darting upright and fixing her shaded glasses, Miela stuttered a response. "Y-yes, that's me..."

Turning in her chair, she met Simon's unwavering gaze. It pierced through her, eyeing her like a predator sizing up it's prey. Her heart skipped a beat. Quickening it's pace, It thumped voraciously against her chest so audibly that Simon's ears caught it's rhythm. Twitching in response.

He-he's a-a wolf!

She was met with his white fur. It didn't appear out of the norm, but his other features, you couldn't help but look, even stare. His nose pinkish-red, and the eyelids around his eyes... They too lacked any form of melanin. What made Simon different from the few wolves with albinism, were his eyes. Normally, they'd be pale blue or light grey but that wasn't the case for Simon. The iris of his eyes were pink and laced with a red rim. His pupils, while others were typically black, his were instead, deep red.

Sensing her unease, Simon averted his eyes and purposefully stumbled over his words, "S-sorry."

Miela stuttered once more, her words faltering in his unexpected presence, "It-it's f-fine. Y-you just sur-surprised me..."

Their exchange lingered in the air. The tension hadn't fully dissipated, it had merely subsided. Now newfound acquaintances, they paused. Awkwardly looking at one another.

Slowly dropping the facade, and carrying a note of sincerity, Simon said, "I reorganized my office and made room for your desk. Since we'll be working together, I figured it make sense if were in the same room. Sound good?"

Miela's nerves were palpable, in her stuttered response, she nodded hesitantly, "I-I u-uh s-sure, that makes sense. Ju-just give me a moment to move it..." She rose from her chair, and prepped to drag the desk across the room.

Simon opted to instead intervene with a gesture of unexpected courtesy. Placing her chair atop her desk, he effortlessly lifted the entire desk and softly said, "I'm not going to watch you lug it across the room... Follow me."

Walking through the office, he moved with consideration, making sure to keep anything and everything from falling off of Miela's desk. When they reached the office, Simon slung the door open and positioned her desk against the wall with deliberate care.

His office was quite modest, it for the most part, only adorned the essentials: a desk with a lamp, two chairs, bookshelves, a phone, a bulletin board, file cabinets, radio, and a single potted cactus. Across from his desk now lay Miela's.

He went onto to place the chair on the floor.

This is not how I pictured today playing out, working with thee detective Wylock... I never thought he'd be a wolf. He was practically never here when I arrived, seeing him in person, he seems so, off. He's got this dead look in his eyes... Doesn't seem to smile either-No, smiling would just look worse now that I think about it... It shouldn't be too bad, right...?

Despite rummaging through her inner thoughts, Miela was quick to thank Simon. "Th-thank you, detective Wylock."

Standing up, he glanced at Miela and replied, "There isn't a need for that, just call me Simon."

With her voice finally steading, she said, "Right, Simon it is." Soon after that, Miela settled into her seat.

Walking over to his desk, Simon grabbed his small cactus plant and used it to prop the office's door open. Glancing up through the cracked door, he pondered.

Jason still hasn't gotten here. He usually arrives earlier than most of us. I should give him a call.

Returning to his desk, he dialed Jason's number and waited. He Hadn't answered. Simon put the phone down and sat in silence for a moment. Breaking that silence, Miela asked, "S-Simon, is there anything I need to brought up to date on, case wise?"

Leaning back in his chair, as if to relax, Simon thought to himself.

Hm... Last case resolved itself, and ended up leaving me with more questions than answers... Assuming I can trust you... that would have to wait, not here... That and I don't trust her though. She'll have to earn that.

He promptly replied, "Apologize for the late reply, my mind tends to wander. As for your initial question, we'll need to wait for a case to come in. That just leaves me with paperwork, and other office, tasks..."

"Ookay, I'll just sit here, for now, I guess..." Replied Miela.

Two knocks were heard at the door.

"Come in." Replied Simon.

A goat poked his head in, maintaining a polite demeanor, he said, "I see your doors open but I felt I should knock rega-a-ardless. A-a-anyway, Lieutenant Ba-a-aksin a-a-asked for you-ta pop in her office."

Acknowledging the message, Simon stood up and walked toward the door whilst saying, "Alright, I'll head there now. I'll be back in a bit, Miela."

Miela Nodded in understanding.

Navigating through the now, bustling office. He exchanged briefs nods with colleagues before entering the Lieutenant's Office. Jason was still nowhere to be seen, this was indeed odd.

As he entered, Simon greeted the lieutenant. "Good morning, Lieutenant Baksin."

"Wylock, you haven't heard from Ramsis, have you? I've been trying to reach for quite some time now. He's yet to arrive or call back..." Baksin inquired with a hint of concern.

"I haven't, I tried calling him myself and didn't get a reply." Replied Simon.

"Hmm, perhaps he's just late... that'd be a first. Well, that was all, darling." Concluded Baksin.

With a nod, Simon took his leave and returned to his office.

With concern, Simon returned to his chair and asked Miela, "Jason hasn't come in yet, and he's never been late... Normally I'd chalk it up to nothing. But you see, yesterday, well to keep it brief... We had a strange run-in with a van. What do you think about that?"

Turning in her chair, she attempted to look at Simon. The angle she looked from left majority of Simon to be obscured by his desk. Only the tips of his ears and the crown of his head met her gaze.

Nonetheless, she replied, "Was it, was it following you? If so, I'd be pretty concerned."

Following... No it had just stopped at the... No, it could've, to the bar...

Simon realized the van may've followed them, his mind entertained the idea, and pondered the implications of why It might've...

He shot up and grabbed his coat. "I'm headed to check on him, are you coming or staying here?"

Taken aback by the sudden burst of urgency, Miela promptly replies, " Y-yes, I'm coming." Hearing this, Simon swooped her up in one swift motion, causing her to yelp in surprise.

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Cradling her like a baby against his chest, Simon quickly made his way out of the station.

All whilst whispering, "I apologize for this and I'll explain why we're in such a rush when we exit the station."

He-he just whisked me away, li-like a baby!!

Miela's mind dwelled on the absurdity of the situation. Aware of that the eyes of the station were fixed on them, no doubt spawning gossip. It was already bad enough that her size made things difficult for her. The fact that Simon opted to just carry her went a long way in the eyes of her colleagues...

Out of the station, Simon hailed a taxi, hopped in, and gently placed Miela down beside him. She quizzically glanced at him, her demeanor silently demanding an explanation.

The cabby asked, "Where-ya headed pal?" Her voice, impatient. Following her inquiry, she started breathing slowly as if to temper herself.

Settling in and looking at the cabby, Simon firmly replied, "Memora Lane please. Are you okay?"

Thinking this is as good a time as any, Miela seized the moment and interrupted, "Care to explain why we're in such a hurry!?! Why you just grabbed me!?!"

Pointing at her legs, Miela went on. "As you can see, I can walk!!"

But before Simon could utter a response, a small critter sitting beside them woke up and butted in, "Simon, is that-chu?"

Previously unaware of the passenger sitting beside them, Simon and Miela glance over. A plump chinchilla sat in the seat beside them, he didn't even take up a tenth of the seat. If anyone would've entered from the other door, they would've surely sat on the tiny fella. He sported a leather jacket, plain t-shirt and jeans.

"Dammit, You-you're still in here!?!" Exclaimed the cabby.

The chinchilla shrugged, looking at the seat in front of him whilst replying, "I needsa job mane..."

Afterward the chinchilla looked at Simon and sought to reaffirm his actions. "I hopped in here and asked if she needed secuwities. Tolds her I could work secuwity. Told her I needsa a job, you know, to pay my rent along witha other necessities. This cat said I wasn't needed and that I had to get out."

Simon stared at the chinchilla before looking back at the cabby. The jaguar tapped her finger relentlessly on the steering wheel. The furrowed brow and occasional fidgeting, implied she was very annoyed. However, in an attempt to ignore the small rodent, she kept on driving and fixated on the task at hand.

"So, she weached back and opened the doe, I then pretended to hop out and shut the doe. I stayed in here to pwove she needed the secuwities, but afta a while I fell asleep. But the point is how's she supposed to know if people getting free rides with no secuwities?" Asked the chinchilla.

It was clear that no matter how hard she tried to ignore the rodent, she just couldn't suppress her agitation.

Further irritated by the chinchilla's reasoning, she replied, "Tha-that's fuckin dumb. What can you-even do, hm? You-you're a chinchilla! It-it's just stupid-You know this guy, been pulling this shit with other cab drivers. Thought it was some baloney, but here he is! Would've through his ass out myself if I'd-a known he was still in here."

Calming down, she concluded with, "Pardon my language... It's just, he's been at it for a while and I don't even know when he got in, hell looks like he's been here the whole time apparently."

With an understanding, Simon assured the cabby, "It's Fine."

Looking up, Miela's eyes met Simon's. Taking note, Simon responded to look of inquiry. "I'll have to explain everything when we arrive. Now's not the time..."

"You know, this the ninth times they said no-"

Simon when on to interrupt, "Jacob..."

Jacob was familiar with that tone, it wasn't stern, it was just pre-established thing between the two. To let him know when enough was enough, and given what Simon had done for him. He didn't mind obliging.

Pouting and looking down, Jacob replied, "Alwight..."

Glancing over at Jacob, Miela asked Simon, "Hm, how exactly does someone like you, know Jacob?"

Upon placing his elbow into the window, he pressed his fist on the side of his jaw, leaning into it.

Eyes now watching the daily commute of others, Simon went on to reply, "Jacob's one of my, unconventional tenants. Well I'm not sure if it really counts... I just found him living in my stairwell one day. A tiny bit of smoke was creeping from a pretty sizable hole in the corner of one of the steps. I caught him cooking... Never did get around to removing him, it didn't bother anyone there and he's... unique. Figured I'd let him stay. Didn't say he had to pay either, but, he insist on doing so..."

Miela couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all.

The cabby just popped a glare into the rearview window, after Simon finished his story. Her eyes said everything. It's as if they asked if he was serious. But after thinking on it, she looked back at the road. Jacob is an oddball to many, a real peculiar individual and given all that's happened thus far in this cab, her cab. It no longer sounded too far-fetched.

Nearing their destination, Simon paid the fare, tipped, and then some. Leaning in toward the front seat, He asked, "If it's not too much trouble, could you drive Jacob as close as you can to Delluvas Avenue?"

The cabby glanced at Jacob through the rearview mirror, with a newfound understanding in her eyes. "Sure, I'll take-em there. It's the least I could do." She replied with a nod.

Given a bit of time, they'd arrived at their destination.

Jason's apartment...

With the Simon stepping out of the car, he waited for Miela to follow him out.

After she'd had exited, Simon had closed the door and walked up to Jason's apartment. They were met with a modest, yet charming apartment nestled among the many buildings lining the street. Ivy had begun to creep up and down its brick wall, complimented by its window boxes filled with an assortment of blooming flowers.

The stairs were nestled in-between a garden. After ascending the steps, they were met with a sturdy wooden door adorning a brass knocker along with a vintage plaque bearing the apartment's number.

Simon got ready to explain why they had rushed there, before he spoke, he noticed an odd and familiar scent. Standing at Jason's apartment door, a subtle metallic tang teased Simon's nose, lingering in the air like a abrupt warning. Miela smelt it too, she sniffed around the air, aiming to find its origins. After glancing to her side and she spotted a few dried, rust colored stains engraved atop the concrete steps.

Pointing to the stains, Miela said, "Simon, I believe that's blood..." Before looking up toward Simon.

With a newfound determination instilled, Simon reached out to try the doorknob. The door was unlocked, swinging the door open, he drew his gun and entered. Miela followed, covering Simon with her own firearm. Gritting his teeth and slightly angered, Simon moved with calculated precision.

The living space was mostly dark. The cracks creeping through the curtains provided a few gleams of sunlight. They were greeted with overturned and broken furniture. It was clear that a violent struggle had taken place here. Blood splatter along with a few bullet holes chaotically adorned the walls, one of many remnants, telling the tale of this vile altercation.

The kitchen was no different, a few of the cabinets hung open. Its contents spilled out onto the floor, a butcher knife laid on the counter next to a few chunks of disregarded meat. The metallic aroma of blood hung heavy in the air.

Despite this the gruesome scene, the bathroom remained eerily undisturbed, for the most part. Bloody boot prints tracked in and out of the bathroom as if looking for something... or someone. Sensing the need to investigate further, Miela broke away from Simon's side and entered the bathroom.

Her gaze swept the bathroom. As she entered, she Immediately noticed the cupboard beneath the sink. One of the doors had been left partially open. Curious, she opened and saw a thin weathered leather journal laying under the sink.

Grabbing it, she flipped and skimmed through the pages. Majority had been torn out, of the few left, detailed instructions were listed along with an address. It's conclusion struck her, it contained an explicit warning not to go to the police. She pocketed the book and searched the remainder of the bathroom. Once it had been searched, she returned to Simon.

With each room cleared, the sense of dread propagated and deepened.

A phone laid on the floor next to the broken coffee table. After glancing around the room, Miela walked toward the phone. Visibly distraught, her voice shook. "I-I I'm gonna call this in."

Simon glanced at the bedroom door and entered. Upon opening it, devastation bared itself.

The book shelves, dresser and nightstand remained mostly, untarnished by the violence. But the bed, it's sheets were so engrossed with blood, that it still remained, damp.

On the bedposts, ropes were bound to the severed hands and feet. At the top of the bed where pillows typically were, laid a decapitated head with a missing eye..

Jason's head. Simon lowered his gun, stuck. He drowned in the scene, faced with the realization that his best friend, was followed home, and butchered. All whilst he slept.

He stared at Jason's lifeless head. One of his only friends, a lively soul, silenced. He didn't blink. He couldn't, because Jason, was staring right back at him. Dropping his gun, his eyes began water. Tears, racing down his furry cheeks began to pour. Their wasn't any sniffling, or any other sound normally associated with this, pain.

His eyes were locked in a trance, and with most of his body remaining still, his hands being the only varying variable, twitched. Everything perceivable had been unwillingly tuned out.

Overwhelmed with emotion. In this melting pot, his mind, it all simmered into one evocative feeling, hatred. For himself, and more importantly, for whoever had done this...

After calling this mess, in. Miela entered, gun at the ready and saw Simon. He just stood there. She called to him, and he didn't respond. Lowering her gun, she walked over and tugged at Simon's coat.

"Si-Simon?"

Her height had obscured the vile visage displaying from atop the bed. Despite that, she did see the edge of the bed. Miela looked to the bedpost and saw a the edge of a severed foot. With what little she could see, and given Simon's reaction, Miela had assumed it had to be Jason laying on the bed, dead.

Taken aback, she covered her mouth and pauses, before exiting the room. Everything, foreshadowed a grim reveal, and yet, she didn't expect to see it. No, she didn't want to see it. She deluded herself in the possibility of everything turning out fine...

As she walked over to the apartment's doorway, she laid her hand on the railing and slowly collapsed along side it. Sitting down on the steps and leaning in the railing, reality hit her, hard...

Miela donned a wide-eyed expression of shock.

The cruelty clicked, she knew she aspired to be a detective, she knew she'd face the horror that comes with working this job, in this city. She thought she was ready, thought she could deal with it. Like many, she didn't take into account that fact that she cared. Wanting to do right and caring, witnessing something this vile, with those principles, it shook her.

The two of them stayed where they were until backup arrived.

With the death of a fellow detective. On arrival, the police, detectives and after a bit, crime scene cleaners swarmed that apartment like cockroaches. Simon and Miela were ushered outside.

Glancing around, Simon quietly growled while his eyes scoured for any individual that looked suspicious. Whilst escorted down the steps, he, at one point caught the attention of everyone there. The mix of predator and prey, easily figured out what it is, he desired. You could see it in his bloodshot eyes, he wanted... needed to kill.

Of the few who walked by him, with the smell of blood, Simon's clear intent, you could see their bodies twitch and flare up in response. Miela wasn't exempt from it either. He may not have glared at her, but she too, could see the lust for vengeance emanating from his being. After being escorted to the car, he sat in silence. A few detectives tried to get him to recount what happened, but he didn't respond. Many of whom didn't bother, too put off by his presence... or so it seemed.

From there on, the atmosphere outside the apartment reeked of tragedy. Miela soon, accompanied Simon in the car. An officer and a detective spoke. The detective figured it was best to have their supervisor assess Miela and Simon. Though, much of their conversation was muffled by distance. When the finished, the officer got into the car and headed back to the station.

As the car began to move, Miela gazed out the window, watching the city pass by in a blur. Questions clouded her mind. Questions about Jason's death, about who may've done it, and to her, most importantly why. Thinking on all that may have led up to the death. She remembered the mention of a van.

She didn't get the full story of that night, and given what had just happened. She grew curious, so much so that she was tempted to ask Simon. She turned toward him as if to ask, but nothing came out. His far-away look silenced her. It was clear that this had hit him harder than anyone.

When the car finally arrived, Miela stepped out, trying to steady her resolve. She turned to Simon and with a bit of determination, she said, 'We'll get through this Simon... We'll find out who did this." But she wasn't just telling Simon that, she was also speaking to herself.

Simon glared at her. Visibly uncomfortable, she met and kept his gaze, hoping to reaffirm her words.

Would you still say that if you knew...

The officer exited and walked around the car whilst they stared at one another. Opening the car door, Miela hopped out and Simon followed suit.

She said, we... She's trying to make this, work.

Simon paused for a moment, recalling Jason's last request of him.

Your Favor... I'll follow through on it... It is, the least I can do...

The officer escorted the two of them to Lieutenant Baksin's office. Miela sat outside on a bench while Simon had entered first to be assessed.

Inside Baksin's Office...

Lieutenant Baksin sat across from Simon, she had been briefed by the officer and observed Simon. His hands were digging into the armrest of the sofa and his brow was slightly furrowed.

He stared at the Lieutenant, though it was clear, he was elsewhere. Lieutenant Baksin found his attempt at remaining composed, a bit unsettling. She leaned a bit back in her chair, instinctively distancing herself from him.

The Lieutenant noticed that and averted her eyes before attempting to close the newly gained gap. She found herself unable to do so, despite his outward demeanor, it was clear that Simon was bubbling, boiling...

She fixed on that, it told her he was seriously affected by this and that maybe, this attempt... Either it could fester much darker and spawned from some ulterior motives or he wasn't at all fit to continue working. Both were applicable in her eyes.

After enough Silence, Lieutenant Baksin cleared her throat and met Simon's eyes.

As she opened her mouth to speak, she couldn't help but avert her gaze. It seemed as though Simon's state worsened. His teeth were gritted and his twitching eyelids, shadowing those blood red eyes, furthered the Lieutenant's unease.

The Lieutenant fought to maintain eye contact before inevitably breaking away.

"S-Simon, yo-you're too close to this... I'm placing you on administrative leave, effective immediately." Her words were for the most part firm, albeit a bit shaky. She made the decision, out of both concern and necessity.

Steadying herself she reached for her cigar box and noticed a small tremor in her hand. She was scared, and she hated that. There wasn't a need to be and her instincts forced her into this heightened state. She needed to address it, and so, she turned to Simon once more.

"S-Simon?"

She waited for a reply.

Through it all, Simon answered with respect. "Yes Lieutenant."

His unwavering gaze, again, led Lieutenant Baksin to avert her gaze.

She pondered for a moment. How she'd address this. She was hoping to do so in a way that didn't prioritize herself, remained dignified and ultimately, showed she cared.

Simon was aware of his off putting demeanor. He didn't know if his Lieutenant could be trusted, so he opted to outright ask.

"I apologize for my..." Raising his hands toward himself and averting his gaze, he continued, "Well, this."

After a pause, he slumped in his chair and stared at the ceiling.

"Lieutenant, can I ask you something?"

With the tension calming, she responded, "Of course."

"Can I trust you?"

Baksin wasn't sure on where this was coming from, she couldn't see if Simon was angling at something.

"I'd hope so Simon. Is there-"

"Wouldn't be too far fetched to say that majority of this precinct is crooked."

Sitting up, Simon looked into Baksin's eyes and continued. "Are you?"

Baksin paused, she too was aware of the oddities surfacing and lingering around.

With a softened, cautious tone, Baksin answered, "You're now either careless or stupid, and I doubt it's the latter."

She leaned back in her chair and went on to say, "No, Simon. But what can you even do? It all happened to fast... There was a time I considered addressing it, but before I could even start I was lucky enough to see just how far that filth spread. It's futile."

She reached for a cigar and lit it.

"Simon, I'm an only child taking care of both, my mother and father and have two sons. Both of whom are in middle school. I'm in no position to fight that... Allow me to tell you something Simon... Unless you're looking to kill damn near half this city, there's no chance in the way of stopping this, corruption."

"I'm not going to tell you what to do, you'd already know what I'd advise. It's only applicable if you've got something to lose..."

She puffed on the cigar.

"I do miss the old days, it only took a decade for life in this city to sour... You know, back then, this was the city of opportunity. Everyone came on in trying to make it big. Problem is, when a lotta fish come piling up, bigger one's take notice. Opportunity is for everyone."

After sitting up, she put the cigar out in an ashtray.

"Ramblings out of the way, the others will of course, handle the quote on quote investigation. Take the time you need to assess... and send Miela in after you."

Simon stood up replied, "Of course."

After stepping out he turned to Miela and held the door open. Miela knew and entered.

The Lieutenant's words lingered in his mind, he did need assess and figure out how he was to proceed.