Holly told her Captain about her plans and he supported her although he did ask her to carefully consider what she would be getting into. “Remember. Narcotics is an entirely different animal,” he said. “Training for that Division has specific requirements, some of which you already have but there’s intensive training in other areas.”
Holly wasn’t deterred or intimidated. Her next step was to enroll in the local community college to pursue a degree in criminology along with a basic knowledge of the legal system regarding illicit drugs, communication and interpersonal skills.
No one could deny her strong social and interpersonal skills, nor her intelligence and willingness to do whatever it would take to stop the drug trade. That was going to be her mission for the next few years.
Her fellow officers had always teased her about being some sort of ice queen. She took it in stride and would sometimes say, “don’t misunderstand. A few men who have turned my head and piqued my interest but I have goals and until they are reached, I’m single and I’m staying that way. Being ‘upstairs’ isn’t going to change that.”
A wave suddenly came over Holly as she realized that moving to the Narcotics Division would mean hanging up her “suit of arnor.” The suit she had wanted since she was a little girl because she wanted to be just like her dad. She quickly recovered when she thought about how proud her dad would be, with or without the uniform.
One of her fellow officers laughed and said “as soon as you move up there, start wearing plain clothes and interacting with the public, I’ll bet that within a year, you’ll be married and knocked up.”
Holly loved a challenge. She smirked and asked if he was willing to make it interesting. He said “sure. How about this? It’ll be a mutual bet. You win and I’ll shave my head. I win and you’ll shave your head.” Holly looked at him, laughed with confidence and said “you’re on. You’ll look good with a cue ball head.”
It was a given that there would be a place in Narcotics for her. She wasn’t yet a legend but her father and grandfather had been and by all rights, the title would be passed on to her.
For eighteen months, Holly went to class and endured the rigorous training to officially move upstairs and the day finally came. After a short flight of stairs, she was met with a chain-link fence, opened only with fingerprint confirmation. The Narcotics Division consisted of five in-house agents and one permanent “deep undercover” agent led by Lieutenant Foy.
There was Luke, Jayce, Frank, Madeline and Nedward.
Luke was the classic “average Joe.” He was 42 years old, 5′ 9″ tall, 150 pounds, medium brown hair and nothing outstanding as far as striking eyes, bulbous nose or eyebrows that could have their own zip code. He was the perfect type to blend in with crowds, quietly scouring the area with almost invisibility.
Jayce was a younger lad who was known as “pretty boy.” He was 32, although he could easily pass for his mid-twenties. His blonde hair and blue eyes made conversation easy with women, especially the local hookers. They were always good for information about certain drug deals and when and where they were going down. In return for the information, Jayce looked the other way when it came to their profession.
Frank was the muscle of the group, known as the “gentle giant.” He was 38 years old, stood 6′ 7″ and weighed close to 400 pounds. He was more like a “closer,” in that he would charge in after the initial bust and scare the shit out of everybody. Not too many people disobeyed when he commanded “hands where I can see them.” He had been in Narcotics for more than ten years and had never fired his weapon.
Madeline, a woman most guessed to be in her late thirties (she never divulged her age) was the “nerd” of the group. She stayed at the station, cracking security codes, passwords and tracking vehicles. She had a knack for digging up information that would make most librarians envious. It was commonly believed that she had Asperger’s, due to her social awkwardness and ability to focus so intently on the details surrounding the necessities of what the officers needed. There was never any chit-chat, which is why she was able to function as well as she did. The agents took it in stride because the bottom line was that she was brilliant at what she did.
Nedward was in his early fifties and immediately became Holly’s favorite. He was a little over 6′ tall, slender and almost eerily quiet. He always wore a toboggan and had a look of sadness on his face that Holly had never seen before. When he spoke, it was almost in a whisper and as Holly watched and listened, his dark soulful eyes, revealed what she believed was a hard, troubled life. She knew that he had earned every line, wrinkle and crease in his weathered face.
He wasn’t one to divulge much about his personal life but when Holly asked him about his name, a slight grin came across his face as he said “my mother couldn’t decide if the wanted to name me Ned, after my father, or Edward after her father. So, she combined them and named me Nedward.”
He was the one who would be “showing her the ropes.” He could tell that she was chomping at the bit to get her first big collar but he was wise and told her that for now, the most important thing she could learn was patience. “Right now, you’ll be observing. If we see a deal going down, we may step in or we may just ignore it. There’s an old saying…’don’t waste your whole day trying to pick up pennies when a dollar waits right around the corner’.”
“Good advice,” she said. “Reminds me of my father. Who said that?”
Nedward smiled and said “I did.”
To be continued_____________