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Mirana watches as Grey writes four numbers on the chalkboard: 81, 91, 97 and 100. The four rookies share surprised looks at the full marks on the board.
"All right," Grey says. "Shake off the rust and grab a seat. Anyone want to guess what these numbers represent? Nolan,"
"Those are the scores to our six-month exams," Nolan says.
"That is correct, Officer Nolan," Grey nods.
"Oh! We all passed," Lucy says happily.
"Technically, yes," Grey nods. "But that 81 is ugly, given that an 80 is basically an F"
"Who got the low mark?" Angela asks.
"Clearly not West," Tim says.
"I could tell you, but self-reflection is necessary for your success as a patrol officer," Grey says. "So I want your guesses, as to which score is yours by end of shift. Understood?"
"Why not give them now?" Jackson asks.
"To mess with our heads," Nolan says.
"Are you saying you're so easily sabotaged, Officer Nolan?" Grey asks.
"No, sir, I was speaking for Officers Chen and Cabrera,"
Mirana and Lucy give Nolan pointed looks before breaking into small grins.
"Sir, will there be consequences for the officer with the low score?" Lucy asks.
"Officer Lopez, you want to take that?" Grey asks.
"At a minimum, a low score means merciless taunting for months," Angela says.
"Great," Lucy mutters.
"But you four did pass, so there's good news - you can now wear short sleeves. Congratulations. Nolan,"
"Sir, who will I be riding with today?"
"I was thinking me. How's that sound?" Grey asks and Nolan gives him a thumbs up. "All right. Be safe out there"
The four rookies walk out of the room, discussing the results on the board.
"I know I did better than an 81, didn't I?" Lucy asks.
"Definitely," Mirana nods.
"Yeah, the oral exam is the X-Factor," Jackson says. "Mirana definitely got the hundred, she has Tim as her study buddy"
"Jackson's right," Nolan says. "Chief Williams could ding us on the tiniest of mistakes, which I'm sure he did with me, and Grey knows that, so he's gonna spend the day torturing me"
"Or he knows you pulled the high score and plans to torture you anyway," Lucy says.
"You're lucky you don't have to worry," Nolan says to Jackson. "Even if you're right and Mirana got the hundred, you probably got the 97"
"Who says I'm not worried?" Jackson asks.
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"We've been slacking on the Tim Tests," Tim says to Mirana as they get out of the car.
"I knew things were too good to be true," Mirana sighs.
"If recent events have taught us anything, it's that we need to remain ever-vigilant. You probably think you know everything about policing, but you don't. For example, what's the most important thing you need on the street?"
"You're you, so the answer won't be easy," Mirana hums. "You couldn't pay a shrink enough to decipher your brain"
"Are you through not answering my question?" Tim asks, smirking at Mirana.
"Yeah, I've decided trying is too doloroso," Mirana nods.
"Your eyes. Cop eyes stop crime and save lives. Did you study explosive devices in the Academy?"
"Yeah," Mirana nods.
"Good. I hope you paid attention because I had a buddy from the bomb squad mock up an IED and hide it somewhere here in this park. You have 10 minutes,"
"Why would you do that?" Mirana asks.
"Go! 10 seconds!"
Mirana sighs before she begins running through the park, looking for a good position to hide a bomb.
After five minutes of running through the park, Mirana finds the bomb in a garbage can. She turns and grins at Tim who waves his radio at her.
"I found-" Mirana is cut off by an explosion of white powder coating her.
"And you're dead. Because radio frequency energy can trigger a bomb. You gonna forget that lesson?"
"No," Mirana sighs, spluttering to get the powder out of her mouth.
She turns to face Tim with murder in her eyes before she lifts her powder-covered hands, wiping them down Tim's shirt. Mirana smirks at Tim before she wipes at her mouth.
"Go get cleaned up,"
"You're a pendejo," Mirana huffs.
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"You missed a spot," Tim says, reaching out to wipe powder off the side of Mirana's neck before knocking on the door.
Ritchie Brown opens the door, anxiety written across his face as he looks at the police officers.
"Thank God," He says. "My wife's missing. She never came home from work last night. She always comes home. I texted and called her friends, and nobody's -"
"Sir, I need you to slow down," Mirana says. "I need to get all the information 100% accurate so our detectives are fully informed. What's her name?"
"Susanna Brown. She's a clerk at the courthouse downtown. We're trying to have a baby, and she was supposed to come straight home to - you - you know,"
"I understand sir," Mirana nods.
"Do you have a picture?" Tim asks.
"Uh y-yeah," Brown shows them his phone and Tim shakes his head.
"No, hard copy's preferable," Tim says and Brown nods.
"Of course. Hold on," Brown says before stepping back into the house.
"Poor man," Mirana sighs.
"Really?" Tim asks.
"What?" Mirana asks.
"Cop eyes," Tim says and Mirana frowns.
"You think he's done something?"
"You always assume the husband did something,"
"Doesn't that create bias in an investigation?" Mirana asks. "Potentially ignoring evidence that doesn't fit your narrative"
"Look, you don't have the experience to evaluate people yet, so your default should be suspicion, not compassion. Understood?"
