Chapter 92-93-94 - The Lawyer and Policeman

Chapter 92 – "TS/SCI Access"

Washington, D.C. — 8:47 AM | Department of Defense Headquarters

The chill of the morning in D.C. was nothing new to Gustavo. He walked steadily through the central courtyard of the Pentagon Reservation, where the massive architecture and formal silence seemed to scream discipline and secrecy. The badge hanging on his chest bore his full name: Gustavo Henrique Silva, and the clear indication: TS/SCI – Active Clearance.

A Homeland Security officer gave a slight nod in recognition. He returned the greeting with a discreet smile.

"You're back, Silva," Colonel Allen Whitmore commented, appearing at his side with silent steps. "I missed the only consultant who quotes the Constitution as if it were the operations manual itself."

Gustavo smiled.

"And I missed the coffee here... at least it stays the same with the years."

"The coffee's still awful," Whitmore laughed. "But your clearance isn't. It's upgraded from Level 3 to TS/SCI. You're now in the club of those who know too much."

"Yeah... and who don't get enough sleep."

They both entered through the heavy doors and followed a corridor lined with biometric scanners. Gustavo already knew the procedure: retina, palm, and voice scans.

"Identification: Gustavo H. Silva. Clearance: TS/SCI. Access granted."

The door opened with a low sound of security being released.

Operations Room – Basement Level 3 | 9:12 AM

In the room, a team of six analysts and two intelligence officers discussed frantically in front of a wall of screens displaying satellite imagery and encrypted intercepts. In the center of the table was a sealed folder with the words: SIGINT PRIORITY / EYES ONLY.

Major Lynn Carter, a sharp-eyed middle-aged woman, stood up when she saw Gustavo.

"Officer Silva. Or should I call you Counselor now?"

"Gustavo is fine, Major."

She handed him the folder.

"You'll want to read this for yourself. Ultra-restricted code. The folder only opens with your biometrics."

Gustavo placed his hand on the surface of the folder, which lit up blue. He entered a code, and the electronic folder unlocked.

The inside pages were watermarked: Top Secret / SCI Compartmentalized.

He read for almost ten minutes in silence. His expression grew more serious with each line.

When he finished, he closed the folder and took a deep breath.

"Are you sure the intercept is authentic?"

Whitmore replied:

"Intercept confirmed by three agencies. A former military officer with access to encrypted defense systems is leaking information to a foreign agent. We want you to assess the legality of the approach we're taking."

Gustavo crossed his arms, thoughtful.

"Do you plan to use FISA or request direct authorization under EO 12333?"

Carter raised an eyebrow.

"You're the first consultant in years to ask that before suggesting direct surveillance."

"Because the difference between a legal proceeding and a constitutional violation can cost more than the case itself," he replied firmly. "And if this agent is a US citizen, EO 12333 doesn't apply. We need FISA."

Silence fell over the room. Whitmore smiled, as if expecting exactly that answer.

"We knew calling you would be worth it."

11:07 AM – Legal Strategy Adjoining Room

Gustavo sat in front of a touchscreen, analyzing the legal layers of the operation. He had requested files on everyone involved, including bank connections, security records, recorded communications, and previous involvement with foreign entities.

NSA Agent Rebeca Mendez joined him.

"Do you believe we got a solid FISA warrant with this material?"

Gustavo pointed to three passages in the dossier.

"This pattern of behavior, coupled with the sending of encrypted packets to IP addresses in Central Asia, is more than enough. But you'll need a sworn statement reinforcing the national security risk."

"Would you write that?" she asked directly.

"Yes. But with two very clear clauses about oversight and limits."

1:45 PM – Quick Break at the Complex Café

Gustavo grabbed a cup of coffee—the same awful one he'd joked about earlier—and sat at a table in the back. His personal cell phone vibrated.

[Cris Alonso]

"How's Washington doing? Are they arresting people based on case law, or have they already raided an embassy?"

Gustavo smiled and replied:

"I only shot down three legal arguments and humiliated a general based on Article 4 of the Constitution. It's a small matter."

"Come back soon. 20-David needs you... and so do I."

He replied with a simple:

"I promise to be back before the coffee here kills me."

4:02 PM – Presentation to the DoD Internal Legal Committee

Gustavo stepped up to the podium in the main conference room. There were senior officers, JAG (Judge Advocate General) lawyers, and representatives from agencies like the NSA, CIA, and DIA.

He took a deep breath. He knew every word would be recorded.

"Good afternoon. I've been asked for a technical, and honest analysis. So here goes. The suggested operation to neutralize the cyber threat is legally authorized if carried out under FISA seal. However, no lethal or intrusive action within national territory is justified without prior judicial authorization."

Some in the background murmured. Gustavo continued.

"The 2008 precedent, Doe v. United States, prevents us from using intelligence intercepted abroad to justify domestic actions without proper judicial filtering. And no, the Patriot Act does not cover this type of action without oversight."

General Brody, a burly, hard-eyed man, stood up.

"You mean we're going to waste time with bureaucracy while a traitor releases sensitive data?"

"I mean that if we don't follow the law, we're just criminals with badges," Gustavo replied firmly. "And you called me here to ensure that doesn't happen."

Silence.

Then Whitmore applauded slowly. Others followed.

Gustavo stepped down from the podium with the calm of someone who knew he had done the right thing.

6:17 PM – Private Room | Pentagon

Whitmore entered the room where Gustavo was collecting his documents.

—"You caused a stir, as always."

—"But it was a legally grounded stir," Gustavo smiled.

—"Are you still considering coming back for good?"

—"I love serving. But my life is in LA. My team, SWAT, the police station, my girlfriend... and the barbecues."

Whitmore nodded.

—"When we need you, we'll know who to call."

Gustavo extended his hand. They shook it firmly.

—"Thank you for trusting me."

—"Thank you for reminding us why laws matter."

10:34 PM – Red Eye Flight Back to LA

On the plane, Gustavo leaned his head back, took out his cell phone, and looked at a photo: him and Cris on the balcony, laughing, the sun setting behind them.

As the plane gained altitude, he knew that, although his talents took him on missions in Washington, his heart always returned home.

To LA.

To Cris.

To 20-David.

To Mild-Wilshire.

Chapter 93 — "Presidential Protocol"

7:18 AM – Mild-Wilshire Police Station | Main Conference Room

The aroma of hot coffee filled the hallways of Mild-Wilshire that morning. The routine seemed to proceed like any other detectives reviewing reports, patrol officers organizing equipment, and Sergeant Grey already reviewing the patrol roster.

Gustavo sat at the station's kitchen table, his stainless steel mug in hand, exchanging jokes with Bradford and Bishop.

"So you actually helped the DOD last week?" Bradford asked, looking skeptical and curious.

"Helped is too modest a word," Bishop replied, chiming in. "He presented legal arguments that overturned an entire operational plan. And he even got on a flight back as if nothing had happened."

Gustavo chuckled.

"It was just another day on duty... only with absolute secrecy and worse coffee than here."

Before they could continue their conversation, the briefing room door opened. Captain Anderson appeared with a serious expression.

"All officers, please report to the briefing room in five minutes. We have an important visitor."

The announcement was clear and direct. Gustavo raised an eyebrow and stood, following the flow.

7:26 AM – Briefing Room

The room was crowded. Officers, detectives, supervisors, and even a few cadets on observation gathered, standing attentively. In the center of the room stood a woman with an imposing posture. Her brown hair was tied back in a tight bun, and the black jacket over her impeccable white shirt bore a distinctive gold name tag: United States Secret Service.

Captain Anderson introduced:

"Officers, this is Special Agent Madeline Kerr of the United States Secret Service. She is here with an official request."

The agent stepped forward. Her voice was calm but firm, with precise diction that conveyed authority.

"Good morning, everyone. As some of you may know, the Vice President of the United States will be making a brief visit to Los Angeles tomorrow afternoon. The Secret Service already has the entire federal security apparatus mobilized, but, as part of protocol, we are counting on support from trusted local departments. Mild-Wilshire is one of the chosen ones."

A few whispers ran through the room. Gustavo kept his gaze fixed, curious. Madeline continued:

"I'm here today to provide preliminary instructions, assign positions, and also coordinate possible contingencies with local support."

She then distributed sheets with basic assignments.

"Detective Bishop, peripheral patrol in the south quadrant. Officer Bradford, side access coverage on the alternate route. Officer Lopez, traffic control on 5th Avenue with traffic detail. Officer Gustavo Silva…"

She stopped when she reached his name. She looked directly at Gustavo.

"Officer Silva, you will remain after this meeting. I need to speak with you, Sergeant Grey, and Captain Anderson."

A few glances met. Gustavo simply nodded calmly.

7:49 AM – Captain Anderson's Office

The room was silent when Madeline closed the door. The captain was sitting behind her desk, Sergeant Grey to her left, and Gustavo standing beside her. Madeline removed a tablet from her briefcase, entered a password, and activated the screen with a secondary password—indicating the sensitivity of the information.

"Officer Silva, according to cross-agency records, you maintain an active TS/SCI clearance level. Can you confirm?"

"Yes, ma'am. It was renewed in 2018, when I resumed work as a consultant at the DOD."

The agent nodded, typing something on the tablet.

"This means you have permission to view and participate in certain layers of presidential protocol that are restricted to operators with high clearance."

Sergeant Grey looked at the captain in surprise, then at Gustavo.

"Did you know he had this access?"

The captain calmly replied:

"I knew he consulted with the DOD and other agencies, but TS/SCI... is national intelligence level. And how long have you kept this confidential?"

Gustavo calmly replied:

"Since the clearance was renewed. I only mention it when necessary or when requested by an agency."

Madeline then opened the proposal:

"Given your legal background, tactical knowledge, and active clearance, the Secret Service would like to invite you to join, during this specific event, a Counter Assault Team (CAT) cell that will be positioned at an emergency extraction point. It's a crucial role. And your presence there could be decisive."

Sergeant Grey stroked his chin.

"And what exactly will he do?"

Madeline explained:

"The CAT team is not only responsible for neutralizing direct threats en route, but also for ensuring that evacuation routes are secure. Given that the Vice President will be making an unplanned stop, the use of operators with local tactical knowledge is necessary." Gustavo would serve as a liaison between federal and local forces, as well as act tactically if necessary."

The room fell silent for a moment. Captain Anderson finally spoke.

"The decision is yours, Gustavo. But if you want to go, you're free to go."

Gustavo took a deep breath, his expression firm.

"Captain, Sergeant… I accept."

11:02 AM – Temporary Federal Facility | Command Center

Dressed in the black tactical uniform with the temporary Secret Service CAT crest, Gustavo walked through the corridors of the command center set up in the basement of a federal building in downtown LA. His holster held his Glock 19, equipped with the holographic sight and tactical flashlight he had championed and taught other officers.

He met with the CAT operator team. There were six in total. All armed with Sig MCX rifles, tactical vests with Level IV ballistic plates, ops-core helmets, and internal radios.

The leader of the group, Agent Killian, extended his hand.

"Are you Silva?"

"Yes. LAPD."

Killian smiled. He was a tough-looking man with sharp eyes.

"I heard about you in D.C. The guy from Harvard who's also good with a gun and a knife."

"Depends on the coffee of the day."

They laughed. Killian continued:

"Here, you'll work with us at Point Charlie. Secondary evacuation route. If something goes wrong, you'll lead the column to sector three. Can you read tactical plans?"

Gustavo nodded and pointed on the map.

"This road here was recently reinforced, but it has a blind curve. I suggest we put the drone on standby at this point."

Killian looked at him admiringly.

"You're definitely not just another good-looking cop."

Gustavo shrugged.

"I can't promise good looks. But I can promise efficiency."

1:40 PM – Rapid Protocol Training

The CAT did a rehearsal with Gustavo. Positioning, radio calls, threat identification, and internal codes. It was like being back in DOD training, only with direct application. Gustavo absorbed everything like a sponge his mind working with surgical precision.

Killian called him over at the end.

"You were born for this. If you ever want to trade the West Coast for the world of the invisible, we have room for you."

Gustavo smiled.

"I have a team. I have a city. But if you ever need me… you know where to find me."

7:01 PM – Back at the Station

No longer in his black uniform, but in his LAPD blues again, Gustavo was in Captain Anderson's office with Grey. They both listened to him tell them about his preparation with the CAT.

"It was intense. I have to admit… part of me misses this kind of operation."

Grey crossed his arms.

"You never stop, kid."

The captain smiled proudly.

"You represent us on levels we can't always keep up with, Gustavo. But what an honor it is to have you here with us."

He just nodded humbly.

10:22 PM – Gustavo's Apartment

Back at home, wearing a gray t-shirt and sweatpants, he threw himself on the couch. He grabbed his cell phone and called Cris.

She answered with a smile:

"How was your day as a secret agent?"

"Nothing a hug from you can't fix."

"Then come get it."

Gustavo laughed.

"I'm going."

And he hung up, his gaze firm. Because, even with access to the country's best-kept secrets, it was in the simple things—like that smile on the other end of the line—that Gustavo found his true purpose.

Chapter 94 – "Recalibrating the Advantage"

9:43 AM – Los Angeles SWAT Headquarters | 20-David Briefing Room

The room was empty except for Gustavo, who stood in front of the large tactical whiteboard. On the table in front of him were carefully organized photos, notes, and fact sheets. He had spent part of the morning preparing this.

Gustavo wore his black tactical uniform, with his SWAT ballistic vest resting on the chair beside him. The door opened.

"Officer Silva?" Captain Jessica Cortez's firm, respectful voice echoed in the room.

"Captain," Gustavo turned and took a formal stance. "Commander Hicks."

The commander followed close behind, adjusting his holster on his hip.

"Did you ask to talk to us about weapons?" Hicks asked, casting a curious glance at the table.

"Yes, sir," Gustavo replied, pointing to the documents. "It's about the assault rifles currently used by 20-David and a possible upgrade to keep the team ahead in CQB operations."

Cortez crossed his arms and approached.

"You have our attention."

Gustavo took a deep breath. His tone was respectful but assertive—like someone who carries experience close to his heart and a duty to share it.

"During the support I provided to the Secret Service's CAT recently, I had direct contact with the SIG MCX Virtus rifles. I had the opportunity to handle them, conduct tactical shooting exercises, and even simulate urban movements. The difference is significant. Especially in confined environments, the tactical gain is notable."

He opened one of the folders and showed comparison photos:

"Today, SWAT mostly uses the 14.5-inch HK416 rifles, which are great, but... too long for certain intense CQB situations. The SIG MCX, in the 11.5-inch or 9-inch short-barrel configuration, offers the same firepower, with superior mobility. Furthermore, its piston system generates less heat in the breech and reduces wear during long operations."

Cortez leaned in.

"And the accuracy?"

"High. The MCX's trigger system is smooth and responsive. During training with the CAT, I transitioned between targets at short and medium range with excellent recoil control. And, using the EOTech with a magnifier, you get the best of both worlds: accuracy at intermediate range and quick response in close quarters."

Hicks, ever skeptical, raised an eyebrow.

"And reliability? Because our current rifles have already proven their worth in the field."

Gustavo nodded.

"Yes, sir. And I'm not suggesting abandoning the HK416s. I'm proposing a gradual integration. The MCX would be an additional tool, especially useful in certain entry teams, vehicle entries, and hostage operations. The CAT has been using this system exclusively for years, and according to operators, failure rates are minimal."

He pulled out a notebook and displayed a note:

"In fact, operators with over 3,000 rounds per month reported only needing basic maintenance. And yet, the SIG MCX is lighter and more modular. Changing calibers, adjusting the gas block for suppressors, changing stock length... all with few or no tools."

10:05 AM – Strategic Dialogue and Assessment

The captain sat, crossing her legs, attentive. Hicks looked at the papers, then at Gustavo.

"You brought data. You brought experience. But that also has a cost. What would the investment be?"

Gustavo picked up another card:

"The unit cost of an MCX configured with a short barrel, EOTech, magnifier, foregrip, tactical flashlight, and two-point sling is around $3,800 to $4,200. Considering the acquisition of 10 units for selected teams, we're talking about somewhere between $40,000 and $45,000 total."

Cortez frowned.

"That's a high price."

"Yes," Gustavo admitted. "But think in terms of operational investment. Every second we gain in an entry, every degree of precision we maintain in a tight environment, can save a life—of the operator, the hostage, or even the suspect."

Hicks reflected for a few seconds.

"Do you see any immediate application? I mean, if we put these weapons in the hands of our team leaders, would it make a difference now?"

Gustavo answered without hesitation:

"Yes, sir. Hondo, Deacon, Tan, Cris... they all operate at high performance. With the MCX, they gain an extra level of agility without sacrificing power. And I can act as a technical liaison between the team and the manufacturer, as well as help with training."

Cortez stared at him for a long moment. Finally, he spoke:

"Do you really believe this is a significant improvement?"

Gustavo nodded.

"I do. Because I've been in the field. Because I've felt the difference in weight when turning a corridor. Because I've seen Secret Service operators use it with efficiency that translates into lives saved."

10:27 AM – An Initial Commitment

Hicks and Cortez looked at each other. Then the commander spoke:

" Captain, what do you think about authorizing the purchase of three units for testing? We can pass them through Hondo, Deacon, and Silva here."

She thought for a moment and then nodded.

"I approve. But I want a full report after 30 days of use. No excitement without technical results. And you, Gustavo, will be responsible for coordinating this test."

"Understood, Captain. Thank you for your confidence."

Hicks concluded with a rare smile:

"Good presentation. You're not just a tactical operator. You're a forward-thinking person. Keep it up."

11:12 AM – SWAT Parking Lot

Gustavo walked with Cris Alonso to their SUV. She heard every detail of their conversation as they walked.

"So you convinced Hicks and Cortez with a presentation?" she asked, impressed.

"It wasn't just the presentation," Gustavo replied, smiling. "It showed that we need to be one step ahead. We can't rely solely on tradition. We need to evolve."

Cris laughed:

"You'll end up running all this one day."

"I don't know," he replied, opening the door. "But if I can help keep everyone safer, it's worth it."

She leaned over, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and got into the car.

"Then let's train. I want to see this SIG MCX in action as soon as I get back."

11:58 PM – Gustavo's Room | Tactical Journal Entry

Sitting at his desk, still with his tactical uniform partially unbuttoned, Gustavo typed on his laptop. He kept a technical and strategic journal, documenting everything.

"Today I proposed to the leadership of 20-David the integration of the SIG MCX Virtus into entry and CQB operations. I based my recommendation on direct experience with the Secret Service's CAT. The presentation was well received. An initial test purchase was approved. A small step for the team. But a huge step for our tactical response capabilities."

He saved the file, closed his laptop, and leaned back in his chair.

Outside, the city slept. But he knew the next mission could come at any moment.

And he would be ready.

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Chapter 42 - Chapter 92-93-94