Chapter 41 – The Name on the Last Line
Mid-Wilshire Police Station, Los Angeles
Sunday Afternoon – The Day Before the New Recruits Arrive
The constant sound of phones ringing, the rapid tapping of keyboards, and the hushed murmurs of conversation between officers filled the Mid-Wilshire Central Station with an end-of-shift energy. Even on a Sunday, the city was not asleep, and neither was Captain Zoe Anderson's station.
Anderson was known for her firm, impeccable posture. She was one of those leaders who could command respect with just a look intense hazel eyes that seemed to take in everything. She was dressed to perfection in her LAPD uniform, her badge gleaming in the cold light of the office.
She stared at a computer screen as she slowly flipped through a folder of files. Beside her, Sergeant Wade Grey, a tall, African-American man with a serious expression and a posture of decades in the force, watched with his arms crossed.
Zoe took a deep breath, then closed the folder and said:
"It's tomorrow. The recruits arrive."
Grey responded with a simple nod. "Bradford will have the pleasure of molding another rookie. Bishop too."
"But it's the third one that's generating buzz in the high command…" she said, sliding her finger over the page of the recruit's file. "Gustavo Silva."
Grey raised an eyebrow. "The Brazilian?"
Zoe nodded slowly, then took Silva's folder and opened it. The file was thicker than usual. There were cross-references with Department of Justice files, a triple background check, letters of recommendation and… pages with classified confidential passages.
— "He was the best in his class. By far. Excellent physical fitness, top-notch tactics, and theoretically… Grey, this kid is a monster. He graduated from Harvard Law, got a perfect score on the Bar Exam, has an LLM in Criminal Law and National Security and…" — she flipped to the bottom — "… interned at Pearson Hardman and the Department of Defense, with TS/SCI clearance."
Grey whistled, impressed.
— "Why would someone with that resume want to patrol the streets of LA? He could be in Washington, making six figures a year."
Zoe closed the folder, looking at him seriously.
— "He wants to make a difference. He says he always dreamed of being a cop. Maybe because he saw what happens when justice doesn't reach everyone."
Grey nodded, but still intrigued.
— "Who's going to train him?"
— "Angela Lopez."
Grey narrowed his eyes, but smiled slightly.
— "Lopez? That woman doesn't accept anything less than excellence. If he's not all they say he is, she'll find out quickly."
Zoe crossed her arms.
— "She needs someone who's up to par. And if Gustavo is really who he seems to be, he'll fit right in."
Briefing Room – A few minutes later
All the officers in the precinct were gathered in the briefing room. The atmosphere was noisy and casual, until Zoe and Grey walked in. Like magic, silence took over.
Zoe stepped up onto the small stage in front of the tactical board. Grey remained by her side.
— "Well, everyone. Tomorrow is arrival day. Three new recruits will start their shifts with us. I want to make it clear right now: they are our responsibility. They are moldable, and how they leave here at the end of training depends directly on who trains them."
Some of the more experienced officers among them Tim Bradford, with his stoic expression, and Talia Bishop, always attentive looked at each other.
Zoe continued:
"The first one will be assigned to Officer Bishop. His name is Aaron Patel, he's 24 years old, good tactical skills, good emotional control. Bishop, he's yours."
Talia nodded, not commenting.
"The second one goes to Officer Bradford. Melanie Torres, 25 years old, transferred from San Diego, family history with law enforcement, good marksmanship."
Tim responded with a simple "okay."
Zoe then opened the folder of the last recruit. She looked around the room, as if preparing the ground for something more intense.
"And lastly…"
Everyone turned to the captain. The tone of the room changed. Zoe held the name for a second longer.
— "Gustavo Silva. 21 years old. Brazilian naturalized American. Got into Harvard at 18. Graduated in Law, completed his LLM at 21, passed the Bar Exam with a perfect score. In addition, he interned at one of the most selective firms in the country, Pearson Hardman, and worked for the Department of Defense on national security issues."
A murmur of surprise ran through the room.
Grey added, in his deep voice:
— "The details of his time at the DOD are classified. But I can tell you that he worked directly with government lawyers on counterterrorism cases. He has contacts in Washington, and more experience than many agents twice his age."
Zoe then announced:
— "Silva will be assigned to Officer Angela Lopez."
Angela, sitting in the third row, raised an eyebrow.
— "Really?"
Zoe stepped down from the stage and walked over.
— "You're one of the best, Angela. He needs that someone with his candor, his rigor, his experience."
Angela crossed her arms.
— "If he's really all that, he'll hold out. If he's not… he'll find out what it means to work on the streets."
Zoe smiled.
— "Exactly what I hope."
Angela Lopez – Private Reaction
Later, while checking the patrol car's equipment on her shift, Angela Lopez found herself thinking about that Gustavo guy.
— "Master of Law… Pearson Hardman… DOD…" — she muttered to herself, connecting the dots.
She picked up her cell phone, accessed the police station's system, and read the basics of his profile. Not much more than what Zoe had already said. But something on the guy's face in the file caught her attention: his gaze.
He wasn't smiling. But it wasn't a cold expression either. It was… determined.
— "Let's see if you can handle the real world, Harvard."
Closing – The Silence Before Arrival
The Mid-Wilshire police station was getting ready. New weapons were cleaned. Police cars were adjusted. The rhythm of the shift seemed to foreshadow a change.
The next morning, at 6:00 a.m., the new recruits would walk through the double doors of the police station ready to face not only criminals and unpredictable situations, but also their own limits.
And among them would come a name that would not go unnoticed. A name that carried history, weight and expectation:
Gustavo Silva.
Chapter 42 – First Strike
Mid-Wilshire Division – Monday, 5:45 a.m.
The sky was still shrouded in a dark blue blanket when Gustavo stepped out of the ride-hailing car in front of the Mid-Wilshire police station. He was wearing his impeccably pressed navy blue uniform, his badge securely fastened to his chest, his utility belt adjusted with millimeter precision.
He took a deep breath before walking through the glass door. The building had a cold, functional architecture. The interior walls were covered with pictures of veterans, tactical maps, and operational codes. The atmosphere was unlike anything he had experienced and even though he had been to Harvard, Pearson Hardman, the DOD, and the UN, Gustavo knew that no theory compared to what he would face from now on.
Here, there were no rehearsals. Here, everything was real.
He headed to the reception desk. A middle-aged officer looked at him over her glasses.
"Name?"
— "Officer Gustavo Silva. First day."
She nodded and quickly typed something into the system.
— "Tactical briefing room. Third hallway on the left."
— "Thank you."
Tactical Briefing Room – 6:00 AM
The room was full of experienced officers. The sound of male and female voices filled the room until Captain Zoe Anderson entered with Sergeant Grey close behind. As on the previous day, silence automatically fell.
Zoe walked to the front of the room, clipboard in hand.
— "As you know, we have three new patrol officers joining our battalion today. All have been very well evaluated. But there is one in particular with an unusual trajectory. Silva?"
Gustavo stood and stepped forward.
Zoe looked at him, then turned to the rest of the room.
— "Officer Gustavo Silva. Brazilian naturalized American. Graduated in Law from Harvard. Master in Criminal Law with a focus on National Security. Worked at the DOD. Yes, that's true. And now he's here, in uniform, ready to protect the city like any of us."
There was a buzz among the police officers.
Zoe then turned to Angela Lopez, sitting on her left, arms crossed, expression analytical.
— "Officer Lopez. He's yours."
Angela let out a soft sigh, got up from her chair, and approached Gustavo. They stood face to face.
— "Silva, right? Harvard, DOD, blah blah blah. I hope you know that there's no courtroom here. Just streets, hot cement, and people who want to kill you for nothing."
Gustavo kept his posture straight.
— "Yes, ma'am. I'm aware. That's it."
She arched an eyebrow.
— "We'll see."
Locker Room and Weapons – 6:30 AM
Angela guided Gustavo to the police station's armory. There, a responsible officer handed him his service weapon, a Glock .22, duly registered, as well as a radio, retractable baton and bulletproof vest. Gustavo checked everything calmly, without anxiety.
Angela watched him out of the corner of her eye.
— "Weapon handling?"
— "Certified. Previous training with the DOD, and before that, shooting competitions in Brazil. I still maintain my own weapons."
— "Hm."
She said nothing more, but made a mental note. Gustavo did not tremble or hesitate. Everything was done with precision.
Patrol – 7:00 AM
The 7A45 patrol car cut through the streets of downtown LA like a shark in murky waters. Angela was driving, her hands firmly on the steering wheel. Gustavo was in the passenger seat, eyes alert to everything around him.
— "Rule number one," she began. "You are the eyes and ears of the city. It tests you constantly. If you get distracted, someone dies. And that someone could be you."
Gustavo nodded.
— "Understood. I've dealt with pressure before. But here… here is different. And I'm here to learn."
Angela glanced at him briefly. She expected arrogance. She found humility.
The radio crackled.
"7A45, we have a 415, commercial disturbance, 5th and Alvarado."
— "This is 7A45, en route," Angela replied.
She sped off.
Scene 1 – Bar on 5th and Alvarado – 7:15 AM
They arrived at a small Mexican bar, where two men were arguing loudly. One of them was pushing the other against the wall, and patrons were filming with their cell phones. Angela jumped out of the car.
— "Los Angeles Police! Stand back!"
Gustavo followed right behind. In seconds, he positioned himself to the side, as he had learned in training — creating a viewing angle while Angela approached from the front.
— "You, hand on the wall!" — she ordered the attacker.
The man hesitated. Gustavo saw his hand go down toward his waist. His voice was firm.
— "HAND ON YOUR HEAD NOW!"
The authority in her tone cut through the air like a blade. The man froze.
Angela quickly handcuffed him. She looked over her shoulder, staring at Gustavo.
— "Good movement reading. Almost like you've done this before."
Gustavo simply replied:
— "Instinct, training… and luck."
Angela smirked.
— "Less modesty. Keep it up and maybe I won't have to beat the shit out of you by the end of the week."
Gustavo smiled discreetly for the first time that day.
Scene 2 – Car, after the arrest – 8:10 AM
On the way back to the police station for the inmate screening, Angela spoke more naturally.
— "Did you really go through the DOD?"
— "Yes. I was a legal intern in a special national security program. I had clearance to read records involving covert operations and domestic terrorism."
— "And now you're here in the police car with me. Why?"
Gustavo looked out the window for a moment.
— "Because none of this matters if you're not willing to get your boots dirty. Because I want to be where justice begins, not just where it's judged."
Angela stared at him. It was rare to see a rookie with this kind of idealism… that didn't sound empty.
She muttered:
— "You're weird."
Gustavo laughed.
— "I've been told that before."
Day One Wrap-Up – 6:00 PM
Back at the station, after a long day of patrolling, calling, reporting, and being exposed to the chaos of the city, Angela and Gustavo sat side by side in the reporting room. He typed quickly, with impeccable legal precision, but without making the text bureaucratic.
Angela read over his shoulder and murmured:
"Seriously… you write reports like you're going to write arguments in the Supreme Court."
Gustavo smiled.
"I can't help it."
"You're going to have trouble with the lazy people here."
He shrugged.
"Then they'll just have to adapt."
Angela shook her head in surprise. Then she held out her hand.
"Good first day, Harvard."
He shook her hand firmly.
"Thank you, Officer Lopez. I'm ready for day two."
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