Chapter 248: The Intimidating Veteran
"Because this area has one of the biggest drug distribution networks in Los Angeles. Look at that black cashier behind the counter—looks harmless enough, right? You'd never guess that he's one of LA's..."
Ron was mid-sentence when the diner owner actually brought Ron's order to the table personally. With Ron's buildup, Ian was so tense that every muscle in his body was coiled tight, but Ron continued talking casually:
"Actually, scratch that—he's probably the largest methamphetamine manufacturer and distributor on the West Coast. His product gets shipped to every major city from here to Chicago, and it's popular with everyone from street dealers to white-collar addicts."
"Thanks for the endorsement." The owner set down Ron's food, acting as if he hadn't heard what Ron just said.
"Don't mention it. You've earned the reputation. The timing might not be right today, but believe me, sooner or later I'm going to put you behind bars."
"Looking forward to it, Ron. But don't forget—I'm still waiting for my chance to put you in the ground." The owner smiled warmly like any friendly restaurateur. "Can I get you anything else, officer?"
"No, we're good. Thanks."
The owner didn't linger, walking away like any normal restaurant manager would. Ian was already slumped in his chair, sweating and breathing heavily.
At first, when Ron introduced the owner, Ian didn't believe it. But when the man casually mentioned wanting to kill Ron, the menace in his voice was so palpable it hit Ian like a physical force. Like prey sensing a predator, he'd frozen completely, unable to even twitch a finger.
Only after the owner left did Ian's body start responding again.
Ian had grown up in one of LA's roughest neighborhoods—Boyle Heights—and thought he'd seen every type of criminal. But he suddenly realized that all those so-called tough guys he'd once feared looked like kids playing dress-up compared to this diner owner.
"He... you... how can you..." After a long moment, Ian managed to stammer out a few words through trembling lips. Ron, sitting across from him, seemed completely unbothered as he dug into his eggs and hash browns.
"You're wondering why I'm still eating? Worried he might have poisoned it?"
Ian nodded.
"Because he doesn't need to," Ron shrugged, speaking matter-of-factly. "Just like I know exactly who he is but can't touch him right now, he's equally powerless against me. He has no choice but to let me collect my quarterly... consultation fees.
Sounds crazy, but from another angle, we actually depend on each other."
"How is that even possible?! Aren't cops and drug dealers supposed to be enemies?" Ian's jaw dropped.
"Listen up!" Ron dropped his casual tone, his expression suddenly becoming dead serious. "This is your first lesson, rookie."
"The world isn't black and white. Growing up in the projects, you should know that better than most—just like our friend back there.
On one hand, he needs me to bust his competitors and keep new players from muscling in on his territory. That's how he maintains his monopoly on the meth trade in this part of the city.
On the other hand, I need someone predictable to work with. I could take him down tomorrow, but the chaos that would follow—turf wars, bodies dropping, civilians getting caught in crossfire—would do way more damage to this city. You getting this?"
"If you can't wrap your head around these realities, you better find another career fast, or you'll end up face-down in an alley before your probation period's over."
Ron's words were harsh, but they were also true. There was an even darker reality he hadn't mentioned: the diner owner's real protection came from federal agencies—forces even Ron had to be careful around.
The current uneasy truce between Ron and the owner was actually the result of a delicate balance between competing interests at levels Ian couldn't even imagine.
Both men were just waiting for the day when that balance shifted, and when it did, each would try to eliminate the other at the first opportunity.
That's exactly why Ron had been steadily building his network and influence. From where he sat, if things ever went sideways, he liked his chances.
Ian swallowed hard and nodded. Ron finally cracked a satisfied smile and pushed his plate toward Ian.
"Come on, try the food here. It's actually pretty good. You'll probably end up eating here a lot during your patrol shifts. Finish up and we'll take a ride."
Ian's first training session was going relatively smoothly, but Jake—who had graduated from the same academy class—was having a much rougher morning.
"Good morning, sir."
Jake walked into the coffee shop and greeted the Black officer sitting at a corner table, reading the Los Angeles Times. His greeting sounded awkward and uncertain.
The waitress handed him a menu, but Jake waved it away.
"Breakfast first, then business. My treat." The veteran officer didn't even look up from his newspaper.
"Thanks, but I already ate."
"Suit yourself." The officer didn't push it and went back to reading in silence, creating an uncomfortable standoff.
Jake glanced around nervously, finally unable to handle the quiet. "Nice place."
The veteran officer lowered his paper and stared at Jake over his reading glasses. "I'm trying to read here, okay?"
"Right, maybe I should order something after all." Jake raised his hand to signal the waitress, but the officer cut him off.
"Nope, you missed your window. Now sit there quietly and let me finish my paper."
The officer's stare was predatory, like a wolf sizing up prey, and Jake felt a chill run down his spine.
"Yes, sir."
After another ten minutes of silence, Jake tried again: "It's nice not being stuck in that oven of a patrol car."
The veteran officer finally smiled, showing bright white teeth that stood out starkly against his dark skin. Then he made a completely unexpected request: "Tell me a story."
"You want to hear about my background?" Jake was caught off guard, though he'd prepared a personal introduction.
"No, not your story. A different story. Either tell me one, or shut up and let me read, or you can sit there trying to entertain me."
"I don't really know any stories."
"Fine, then I'll tell you one," the officer folded his newspaper. "This here's a newspaper. Ninety percent of it is complete garbage, but it's entertaining garbage. I read the paper to be entertained. You've been interrupting my entertainment, so now it's your job to entertain me instead. Tell me a story, right now. Go!"
(End of this chapter)
[+100 Power Stones = +1 Extra Chapter]
[+5 Reviews = +1 Extra Chapter]
If you enjoyed this chapter, leave a Review!
P*atreon/Soulforger (80+ advanced chapters)
Buy me coffee - ko-fi*com/soulforger01