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Episode Two "The Slam Dunk"

“Get your hands up. Get your fucking hands up or I’ll shoot you where you stand you son of a bitch. Now turn around, slowly. Good. Now walk backwards, towards my voice, follow my voice. Now clasp your hands behind your head. You have the right to remain silent, you have the right to an attorney.....”

“This, gentlemen, is how it is when everything goes right. When the X factor, the suspect, is a cooperative detainee. After a 15 minute break, we will address combative suspects.”

The crowd dispersed accordingly, heading to the buffet line. Two men, however, mired in conversation, stayed in their chairs.

“This whole idea sounds like bull to me. Why the hell do we need this kind of scandal? We’re policemen for Christ’s sakes. Some of the stuff we have done for this guy has been on the edge of the law, but planting evidence? That is just too far for me to feel comfortable.”

“Keep your voice down, Lieutenant, we don’t need the world down on both of us, or is that what you’re suggesting, because if you think you’re just going to blow the whistle on me and destroy everything I’ve built, then you’re fucking crazy. And let me tell you something else, you were in then, you’re in now-don’t you go getting smart and thinking for yourself — that crap will surely get you killed. Now just go and do what I fucking told you to do.”

Lieutenant Barrick headed for the buffet in a huff, angry at his loss of control, maybe a bit disillusioned, but definitely hungry. His buddies we’re happy to feed him full of bullshit.

“Damn, Ron, I wasn’t sure you were gonna have any ass left after that chewing. Are you screwing the Chief’s old lady or something?”

“Very funny, Hathaway, ain’t you got anything better to do than sit around at these bullshit seminars all day? It’s bad enough I have to hear your bull about being on the street while I sit around in my plush office all day, you worthless slob.”

He turned to Keenan, who knew about the extracurricular activities of Barrick and Chief Montoya well. He was looking for a bail-out.

“Layoff Hathaway,” Keenan said. “Or I’ll tell 'infernal affairs' about the kickbacks you’ve been getting on the taser gun sales, you sneaky son of a bitch.” He looked to Barrick, “Lieutenant, we should be moving. The Chief said he wanted us to bust our tails on this undercover thing.”

“You’re right, let’s go,” Barrick said. “I’ll deal with you later Hathaway. You running the course tomorrow?”

“Yeah, you think you have a chance in hell to beat me?”

“We’ll see, we’ll see.”

Keenan let Barrick calm himself on the way to the car. He had only heard the Chief ask Barrick why he hadn’t set-up the operation for tonight, and was then told to give them some privacy. He knew eventually he too would be in the know, whether he wanted it or not.

“Things are kind of messed up because I am not sure I want to be doing this, but as you know, we have no choice,” Barrick said as Keenan started up the car. “Now head over to the property and evidence building. We need to make a withdrawal.


Over time, many wise people have realized the virtue of patience, and Tommy Berlini was no exception. Today was the right time for business as usual and it went off without a hitch.

Soon the regular work day was over and people began arriving at his place for the game. Stuck one spot out of the playoffs, his team needed a big performance against an eastern team in the same boat. The players were pumped, the ones that cared, and the electric feeling of success, which hadn’t visited the arena for quite awhile - until this recent win streak - was peaking it’s head back in again.

Tommy even got a call from Montoya, expressing his extreme pleasure and kissing ass in his own indubitable way. Montoya was typically as tough as nails but when it came to Tommy, he gushed and guffawed. The team had perks no one could resist. Montoya was on the take from every continent and was a bear cat. But when it came to Tommy, he would give him a favor for a suite and a night with a cheerleader. He assured Tommy the set-up would be tonight and carried out by his best team. 

Tommy had faith in the Chief, mainly due to his utter corruption. Tonight would be the night.

Although Tommy Berlini was as cool as a polar bear at the pole, the plan coming together shot nervous energy through his bones, catapulting him out of his office and into the schmoozing of the masses gathered in the arena. On a high of power, prestige and the buzz of risk, Tommy felt on top of the world.

By the time he reached his box, he was no longer merely a man, he was rushed with the flush of a smothering cloud which envelopes those so adored. In this other worldly state he took in the game, a tremendous contest. Billy Spikes scored the game winner with time running out. Billy had been a rising young star and since a perennial all-star, yet recently his image had been tarnished after drug and size-of heart allegations. Tommy had always really liked Spikes, as both a person and a player. He sought him out in the locker room and offered his congratulations.

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