Footsteps came up fast behind him, quick and uneven.
"Hey, man! I'm L.A. County Sheriff—one of you!" Felix called out.
He was genuinely worried someone might twitch and put a round in him by mistake. Luckily, nothing like that happened—only two officers came up and clamped down on his arms hard, making sure he didn't make any extra moves.
The lead sergeant walked over, gave Felix a slow once-over. "I'm Sergeant Green. This is just a necessary safety procedure. Once we verify your ID, we'll let you go. Hope you understand, man."
Felix could only take the hit. "My badge is in my right pants pocket."
Green fished it out, glanced at it, and handed it to an officer at his side. "Go verify it."
Meanwhile, other deputies rushed into the gas station. Whether the people on the ground were dead or not, they cuffed them first, searched them, and called for ambulances.
Several station attendants were still inside. Officers leveled guns at them and ordered them out, lined them up on the ground. No one cared about the fear on their faces—they were searched and questioned one by one until their identities were clear.
It wasn't long before the deputy who'd gone to check came back. "No problem—he's confirmed. L.A. County Sheriff's Department."
Green nodded, motioned for Felix to be released, and handed back the badge. "Sorry, man. We've got way too many deputies in this department for anyone to know all the faces. Nothing personal."
Felix nodded, took the badge, and casually unstrapped his gear, passing it over. "There's a registered backup gun in my patrol car, a SIG P320—it's in the center console."
Taking the gear from him, Green gave him a look. "You're a little too practiced at this, man."
"Uh… you do it enough times, you get used to it."
A nearby deputy leaned in to whisper something to Green.
Green's face lit with recognition. "You're that 'Killer with a Badge'? I know you—Felix, the Killer with a Badge. Just couldn't match the face to the name. Didn't think someone who looks this… un-hardboiled would be the guy who does hardboiled things. And what do you know—few days later and you're in the middle of something this big again." He gestured at the gas station.
Felix gave a helpless shrug. "I was just here to get gas. Didn't even get that far. Speaking of which, my car's empty—I'll need to fill up before I can drive off."
"Don't bother, man. That cruiser of yours took at least a dozen hits. It's not going anywhere. Wait for a tow truck."
Great. Practically a new ride, and now it's Swiss cheese. You guys really did deserve to get dropped.
Several ambulances pulled up with sirens wailing. EMTs jumped out with stretchers. Only one of the people on the ground was loaded in—everyone else was beyond help.
A few station attendants were also injured. When EMTs tried to lift them onto stretchers, they resisted fiercely, faces twisted in something worse than pain, until they were forced in by sheer manpower.
"Man, you're with Carles' unit, right? How's that working out? If you're not happy there, come join mine. I'm a very nice guy—ask my people." Green's eyes gleamed. He was already poaching.
"Thanks for the offer, Sergeant, but I'm fine under Sergeant Carles. Not looking to transfer for now." Felix turned him down without hesitation. He'd just made full deputy—hadn't been treated unfairly in the slightest—and even without much workplace savvy, he knew changing units now would be a bad look.
Green sighed. "Alright. But if you ever change your mind, you come to me. I like hard cases like you."
By then, the forensics team had arrived. After a quick word with Green, they started marking the positions of the dead, collecting spent casings, tagging bullet impacts—keeping busy.
Green came back. "You can't touch anything at the scene. I'll have someone take you back to the station. You'll probably be sleeping there tonight."
Felix nodded, got into a cruiser, and headed back.
The station was in chaos. Ironically, the man who'd caused it all wasn't busy at all—front desk clerk Mia, working the night shift, handed him a thick stack of forms and told him to find somewhere to fill them out.
Discovery of the incident, engagement details, number of rounds fired—it was all there. Felix gritted his teeth and got through it.
Then he ducked into the lounge to hide, only to come straight back out.
The smell was overwhelming—a toxic cocktail of foot odor, sweat, and body funk. The place might as well have been a gas chamber.
In the end, he had to settle for a bench in the locker room. A bit hard, but serviceable. He was asleep before long.
Felix slept. Many others did not.
His sergeant, Carles. The undersheriff, Robin. Captain Mesa. Legal from headquarters, even the DA's office and city government—they'd all been dragged out of bed to deal with the gas station shootout.
"Felix! Get up! Seriously, this is where you decide to crash?"
Felix opened his eyes to find Carles' big face hovering over him—greasy, heavy dark circles under the eyes, and bloodshot sclera.
"What happened to you? All-nighter?"
Carles shot him a glare. "Because of you. They dragged me out and I've been running all night. And you? Sleeping like a baby."
"Not exactly. Bench is hard—head's a little sore."
"Good. If you don't pass this next part, you'll have plenty of time to nurse it. Come on."
Felix was hauled to his feet, shoved into the washroom to wash his face, brush his teeth, and shower. A fresh uniform later, he looked sharp again.
Carles dragged him into a large conference room. Desks and chairs lined in neat rows. Seven or eight stacks of files sat on the tables. Felix leaned to peek, only to get a swat between the shoulder blades that sent him to the chair on the far side.
A few minutes later, a stream of people filed in.
Carles made the introductions—Captain Mesa, Undersheriff Robin, Internal Affairs' Sam, Deputy DA José Hernández from the L.A. County DA's Office (last seen in the case of Night Angel), Major Crimes Unit Captain Eddie Hernández, Asian Gang Unit Captain Cole Simmons, Narcotics Division's Cannabis and Controlled Substances Captain Jason Vera, and Sergeant Green.
Felix stood and saluted. He didn't remember all the names—just that he was a bit stunned this many people had shown up.
Carles shot him a look—don't worry about who's who, just focus on the review.
Once everyone was seated, Undersheriff Robin spoke. "Regarding last night's incident on Barlette Street, in which members of 'Lomas 13' were attacked at a gas station by 'Barrio 18,' Deputy Felix responded promptly and neutralized the suspects—the internal review begins now."
DA Hernández and Internal Affairs' Sam said nothing.
Felix instantly felt confident. With the incident already framed that way, how could it go badly?
Carles turned on the projector, pulling up footage from Felix's dash cam and body cam.