Michaels hurried to catch up to his distinguished father. When he did, his dad looked him up and down. Shaking his head, his lip turned up in disgust. “Four years at Duke, graduated in the top ten percent of your class. You had some of the highest scores in your group of police academy recruits.” His father stopped in front of his shiny black Cadillac and faced him head-on. “Not to mention, you’re a goddamn Michaels, and look at yourself.”
Michaels didn’t dare drop his head; he wasn’t ashamed. He was in his jeans, had a black and white graphic t-shirt showing under his open Atlanta Braves jersey. His backwards ball cap gave him the appearance of a man most likely on his way to watch a game rather than to an elite task force team meeting. “Dad, I’m going out in the field later. I’m undercover. Have you forgotten what you used to look like when you were the most respected homicide detective in your squad? Back before you got stuck behind a desk, forced to kiss bureaucratic ass?”
His father’s glare was enough to make him back off. “How dare you insult me or my position?”
Michaels looked his father in the eye. “I apologize, Sir. That was disrespectful and completely out of line.”
“You’re damn right it was.”
Michaels sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just don’t know what the hell I have to do to make you proud.”
His dad looked at him dolefully before placing his strong hands on both of his shoulders, and turning Michaels to face him. “I am proud of you, son. Everyday. I just—” A sigh escaped his father before he continued. “I just don’t want you limiting yourself. You have the potential to lead, son. It’s in your blood. Following God and Day is not going to put you in that position. You’re the leader, not the follower.”
“I can make sergeant, lieutenant and any other rank as long as I continue to be a good cop. Working with them, I’m able to finally show what I’m capable of. So many departments have egomaniac lieutenants that are so afraid of rules and regulations that they’re barely able to let their detectives make an arrest. I just want to be able to show what I can do, and God and Day let me do that.”
“Like dropkicking a man through a window.” He saw the amused glint in his father’s eye.
“Yeah. Like that.” Michaels laughed. The story of their last bust - when he’d taken down three men, one of whom he’d kicked through a window - had circulated pretty fast. His father laughed with him, patting his cheek.
“I’m damn proud of you, son. I’m just being a father I guess.”
“I’m good Dad. Really. I’m happy with what I do. The guys are great, I trust them, and they trust me. We do good work together.”
“You do, son. I can’t dispute that. I didn’t mean to insult you, either.”
“I know.”
His father turned to get in his car. “I’ll see you at the house tomorrow night, right?”
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes, for poker. I told you last week, son. I’m having a few of the guys over. Umm. Aaron will be there too. He’s joined us now.”
Great. “I remember now. Sure, I’ll be there.” Don’t have anything else to fucking do on a Friday night.
“Good to hear.” His father started his car and put the window down. “Be safe out there today. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Michaels nodded and tapped the hood of the car as his father eased his luxury vehicle from the curb.
Chapter Two
Michaels was leaning back in one of the large chairs in their meeting room. Although their large department was inside the Zone 3 precinct, they almost felt like a separate entity. Michaels looked out the glass partitions at the hustle and bustle of the precinct’s bullpen while God and Day’s Sergeant went over their plan to take down a drug and small arms dealer named The Kid and his entire organization.
“This is the last time this bastard slips through the cracks,” Syn said. His voice was calm as usual, but the intensity of his dark eyes said that he was fired up just like the rest of them. “We’ve had Jones and Marrietty on the inside for six months, it’s time. The next deal will go down on Monday at the old shoe factory in Mechanicsville. God wants to do a simulation of the op on Sunday.”
“Why?” Detective Green asked.
Michaels smirked. Detective Green and his partner/boyfriend Detective Ruxsberg were both at their desks, looking through surveillance photos while simultaneously listening to Syn. They were the enforcers of the group. They carried out God and Day’s orders on the streets. Badasses in their own right, but they were big ass troublemakers too. Always in the hot seat because they were one hundred percent, shoot-first-questions-later-balls-of-steel-batshit-crazy. They worked together as one psycho team because no one else wanted to get caught up in their ridiculousness. Including Michaels.