Owen stood, “So what am I meant to do with him?”
“Take him out, show him the sights—show him whatever it is you do.”
“Show him? He has clearance?”
“Nope, but we can’t stop him using his own eyes now can we?”
“This is ridiculous.”
“Sure it is, but what the fuck do you want from me? Life’s a bucket a shit. You’re born in it, you climb up the sides and start shitting on the people below. In my case that’s you, but don’t forget I got people shitting on me too. Carroll won’t believe a word we say until he’s seen it for himself anyway. You got your partner, he’s green and keen, now hit the streets.”
“The first leech we run into will tear him apart.”
“Well you better make sure that doesn’t happen. And one more thing.” Fitz empties a bulgy envelope on his desk and a few fat plastic rectangles topple free. He tosses one to Owen. “You find yourself on a trail, and you’re sure you’ve got something, you press that button. Simple enough?”
“Feds huh?”
“How o’ bout because I told you to.” Their stare-off had been going on intermittently for nearly two decades. Fitz may be a fat sweaty bastard, but he always wielded a hobbling rationality. Owen met his gaze and for the umpteenth time realised there was an awful lot he wasn’t being told. All he had was trust and the fact that the chief hadn’t actually done wrong by him. Yet. “Right. So why don’t you take our boy down to the old railyards. There’s a bit of a scene down there, not sure how cold it is.”
Owen nodded and left.
Carroll was seated outside waiting. The rest of the station crew had been watching him with ambiguous glances, none approaching to say hi. When Owen stalked out he didn’t wait for the rookie to follow, but Carroll leapt up without the need for an invitation.
“Hey Serg, what’s the story?”
“Ain’t no story.”
“Where we going?”
“Take him out, show him the sights—show him whatever it is you do.”
“Show him? He has clearance?”
“Nope, but we can’t stop him using his own eyes now can we?”
“This is ridiculous.”
“Sure it is, but what the fuck do you want from me? Life’s a bucket a shit. You’re born in it, you climb up the sides and start shitting on the people below. In my case that’s you, but don’t forget I got people shitting on me too. Carroll won’t believe a word we say until he’s seen it for himself anyway. You got your partner, he’s green and keen, now hit the streets.”
“The first leech we run into will tear him apart.”
“Well you better make sure that doesn’t happen. And one more thing.” Fitz empties a bulgy envelope on his desk and a few fat plastic rectangles topple free. He tosses one to Owen. “You find yourself on a trail, and you’re sure you’ve got something, you press that button. Simple enough?”
“Feds huh?”
“How o’ bout because I told you to.” Their stare-off had been going on intermittently for nearly two decades. Fitz may be a fat sweaty bastard, but he always wielded a hobbling rationality. Owen met his gaze and for the umpteenth time realised there was an awful lot he wasn’t being told. All he had was trust and the fact that the chief hadn’t actually done wrong by him. Yet. “Right. So why don’t you take our boy down to the old railyards. There’s a bit of a scene down there, not sure how cold it is.”
Owen nodded and left.
Carroll was seated outside waiting. The rest of the station crew had been watching him with ambiguous glances, none approaching to say hi. When Owen stalked out he didn’t wait for the rookie to follow, but Carroll leapt up without the need for an invitation.
“Hey Serg, what’s the story?”
“Ain’t no story.”
“Where we going?”
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