Chapter 11-12 - Former CIA, Now LAPD

Chapter 11 – Flags and Shadows

January 30, 2016 – 6:41 AM

LAPD West Precinct – Office of Captain Elaine Maynard

The black folder sat on the desk. The State Department seal was stamped on the front page.

Elaine kept her expression firm. Mike stood, hands behind his back. Athena was across the room, a steaming mug of coffee between her fingers.

"Today, you two are the face of the LAPD in a joint operation with the federal government and foreign security," Elaine began. "The French ambassador in Washington, Charles Moreau, is on a three-day visit to Los Angeles. Today is the most delicate item on the agenda: a visit to the French Embassy in Beverly Hills, lunch with businessmen, and dinner with European diplomats at the German consulate. At all times, he will be under our care as well."

Mike nodded.

"What is the perceived threat?"

— "From an official standpoint, none." — Elaine replied, with a subtle raise of her eyebrow. — "From a realistic standpoint? There are at least two demonstrations planned: a pro-Palestine one on Wilshire and one against the European Union's presence in local trade negotiations. Both legitimate, but any spark could turn into a diplomatic firestorm."

Athena took a sip of her coffee.

— "And where do we fit in?"

— "You two will be responsible for maintaining the bridge between the French delegation, the DSS and the LAPD's local coordination. Mike, you will deal directly with the embassy's field agents and the feds. Athena, you will keep the unit in order on public roads and respond to any unexpected civilian contact. You are a double and a shield."

Mike picked up the folder and leafed through the documents.

— "Names of the French agents and credentials?"

— "Everything here. Including the two Gendarmerie Nationale agents assigned as the ambassador's personal security. They've been in Los Angeles for three days, assessing the city. And they've already asked about you."

Athena raised an eyebrow.

— "They already know you're ex-CIA, then?"

Mike gave a half-smile.

— "If they're any good, they even know where I bought my last French wine."

Elaine closed her speech clearly.

— "Remember: today you're not just in the field. You're under observation. The civilized world moves in silence. And today you are the ears of that silence."

08:03 – French Embassy in Beverly Hills

The embassy's elegant facade blended classic European architecture with the modern minimalism of Beverly Hills. Flags fluttered. Security was present, but discreet.

Mike and Athena passed through the two security rings. Identifications validated. Credentials crossed. All coordinated by the DSS, led by a thin woman with her hair tied in an austere bun and thin glasses.

— "I'm Special Agent Lynn Cordova, DSS. Thanks for being here. Homeland security is ours, but we want local eyes to read the street. They know the pulse of LA better than we do."

Mike shook her hand firmly.

— "Officer Mike Edwards. LAPD. I worked with your team in Bogotá, 2011. American citizen detained in Venezuelan diplomatic compound. Joint operation. Code name: Arc of Fire."

Lynn studied him for a moment and then nodded, not hiding her surprise.

— "Now I remember you. Edwards. Longer hair back then. Less relaxed eyes."

Athena watched with her arms crossed.

— "He's gotten better. Now he even tells jokes."

— "Only on good days," Mike replied.

08:45 – Coordination Room | Second floor of the embassy

Two French agents sat side by side: Commandant Laurent Dubois and Capitaine Clémence Morel. Their uniforms were discreet, but their posture was elite. Their Gendarmerie insignia gleamed in the light of the monitor.

Mike approached first.

— "Bonjour. Mike Edwards. LAPD."

Laurent stood up.

— "Ah. L'Américain avec un passé intéressant."

(The American with an interesting past.)

Clémence shook his hand, eyes analytical.

— "Nous avons lu votre dossier. Impressive."

(We read your dossier. Impressive.)

Mike replied in fluent, impeccable French:

— "Laissez mon passé là où il est. Aujourd'hui, je suis là pour votre sécurité."

(Leave my past where it is. Today I am here for your safety.)

Athena approached, slightly amused.

— "Do you speak French too?"

Mike replied without turning his head:

— "I spoke to a former DGSE agent for two months on the border with Lebanon. If I didn't learn, I would die."

Laurent smiled.

— "Bien. Alors, travaillons ensemble."

(Then let's work together.)

10:00 AM – First stop: DeLouise headquarters, West Hollywood

The motorcade of cars followed in surgical order. Two LAPD patrol cars, two embassy vehicles and a DSS SUV. Mike and Athena were in the second car.

The internal radio crackled.

— "Arrival in two minutes. Perimeter clear. Minimal civil movement."

Athena scanned the sidewalks with a trained eye.

— "That man over there in the baggy coat is staring very hard at the train.

Mike discreetly touched the radio:

— "Point three. Male in gray coat, bus stop. Verify approach, avoid direct contact for now."

DSS agents moved discreetly, confirming that the man was just a counterfeit goods salesman waiting for the bus.

Mike turned his gaze to Athena.

— "Even when nothing happens, something can always happen."

She answered without hesitation:

— "The difference between control and reaction is a second's delay."

1:45 p.m. – Lunch with businessmen at the Mondrian Hotel

Mike remained at the back of the room, with Clémence. Athena discreetly patrolled the corridors of the floor.

While the ambassador spoke, Clémence commented, in English:

— "You seem at peace here. But your eyes never rest."

Mike smiled, but didn't answer.

— "That's the difference between being home… and being safe."

7:15 p.m. – Dinner at the German consulate

Last stop. Formal ceremony. Mike and Athena remained outside the event hall. The Los Angeles sky was already darkening, and the night wind carried the smell of cut grass.

— "Do you miss it?" — Athena asked, looking at the horizon.

— "What?"

— "This world. Of diplomacy, of codes, of silence."

Mike thought. Then he answered sincerely.

— "I miss the clarity. The visible danger. But I learned to value the invisible. Like... this." — he pointed at her, at the sky, at the noise of the streets.

— "Do you feel like you belong here now?"

Mike looked at her.

— "More so every day."

9:22 p.m. – Return to the police station

Elaine was waiting for them in the office. When she saw them, she stood up.

— "Mission completed without incident. Diplomats satisfied. DSS praised the team's conduct. And the head of French security left a note for you, Edwards."

Mike opened the envelope.

In French, just one sentence:

"Ceux qui comprennent le silence sont les plus dignes de confiance."

(Those who understand silence are the most trustworthy.)

Mike put the note in his inside pocket.

Athena, standing next to him, smiled discreetly.

— "And now, time to return to the real world. Patrol, calls, bad coffee."

— "And maybe... a visit to the Grant family table."

She laughed.

— "Harry wants you to teach him Lego espionage."

Mike chuckled.

— "I didn't even learn that at Langley."

Chapter 12 – Between Silence and Sound

January 31, 2016 — 06:22 AM

West Division Parking Lot – LAPD

The morning chill still clung to the metal of the patrol car as Mike adjusted his bulletproof vest. He already knew how to do it with precision — it was almost a dance. Athena approached with a steel thermal mug in her hand, the steam rising like a promise of lucidity.

— "New day, same city with existential crises."

Mike smiled.

— "And the same coffee that tastes like it was brewed in a car engine."

— "Stop complaining and get in the patrol car, recycled federal agent."

She tossed the key in the air. Mike caught it with one hand and got in on the driver's side.

06:38 AM — Start of patrol | Pico-Union

The sunlight was still low, painting the buildings orange and gray. The streets were half deserted, workers were leaving their homes, trucks were unloading. Mike drove slowly along Pico Boulevard, keeping an eye on the movement. Athena was typing on the tablet on the dashboard, updating the route and the areas with the highest number of calls in the last 12 hours.

— "Three reports of trespassing in abandoned buildings. One cell phone theft with minor assault. And a 72-year-old man who thinks his neighbor is a Russian spy."

Mike raised an eyebrow.

— "Have you ever investigated real spies?"

Athena answered without taking her eyes off the tablet.

— "I've questioned people who thought they were. I don't know which is worse."

— "The ones who think they are are always the most dangerous. Because they lie to themselves."

She glanced at him.

— "Are you okay?"

Mike took a deep breath.

— "I am. But sometimes, days like these are the most challenging."

— "Because there is no mission. Only silence."

— "Exactly."

Athena smiled. It was a mature, understanding smile. The kind of smile that only those who have been through gray areas can give.

— "Then let's turn silence into an opportunity."

7:22 a.m. — First call: noise in abandoned construction

The decrepit building on Santee Street was surrounded by hoardings and graffiti. In the distance, hurried footsteps could be heard and a portable radio playing Nortec Collective. Mike and Athena got out of the patrol car carefully.

— "Officer Edwards, LAPD. Anyone in there?" Mike shouted.

Silence. Then a noise. Cans being kicked.

Athena pulled out her flashlight and pointed it at the side of the entrance.

— "There are fresh footprints in the mud. Two pairs. One adult and one minor."

Mike and Athena entered carefully. The smell of mold and urine filled the space. In the second room, they found a man and a girl, no older than nine. They were covered in dirty blankets and staring at them in terror.

— "We're not going to hurt you," Athena said. "We just want to know if you're okay."

The man, unshaven and with sunken eyes, raised his hands.

— "She's my daughter. We have nowhere to stay. I didn't hurt anyone."

Mike crouched down, lowering his height to the girl's level.

— "What's your name?"

— "Luna."

— "Nice to meet you, Luna. Do you want something hot to eat today?"

She nodded slowly.

Athena was already calling social services.

— "We're going to take you to the municipal shelter. You'll have food, a bath, and a real bed."

The girl's father was shaking.

— "Aren't you going to arrest me?"

Mike replied:

— "You did what you could to protect her. Now, let us take care of the rest."

When they left, the girl was holding Mike's hand tightly.

He felt it.

Even in the "normal" situation, it had an impact.

9:58 a.m. – Break in MacArthur Park

Sitting on a bench in the square, the two shared a quick snack. Mike ate in silence, watching the pigeons, the skateboards breaking the concrete, and an elderly man carefully feeding ducks.

— "Do you know what I learned in my second year at the CIA?" — he said, without looking at Athena.

— "Tell me."

— "That the world is only saved in small parts. Fragmented. A conversation here. An outstretched hand there. An unavoidable glance."

Athena chewed slowly, then said:

— "And you think you're saving the world?"

— "Little by little. One Luna at a time."

She smiled.

— "So let's see who needs it most today."

11:42 a.m. – Second incident: contempt and minor threat at a gas station

Two young men were arguing with the cashier. One of them pulled out something that looked like a knife, but was actually a letter opener. When Mike and Athena arrived, the two fled on foot.

Mike went after the taller one, cutting between cars, jumping over the hood of a sedan and pinning the young man against the wall of a warehouse. Athena held the other one 40 meters away with the help of a shopkeeper.

— "What's the fight about?" — Mike asked, already handcuffing the young man.

— "He accused me of stealing. But he just wanted to buy juice."

— "With a letter opener in his hand?"

— "It was for the package, I swear."

Athena arrived with the other young man.

— "And you?"

— "I only ran because my friend ran. I didn't even know what was happening."

Mike looked at Athena.

— "Would you bet that those two are more scared than dangerous?"

— "Let's take them to the police station. Do a background check. But yeah... they look more lost than criminal."

And that's what they did.

Nothing explosive. Nothing cinematic.

But necessary.

2:35 p.m. – Return to the patrol car, mid-afternoon sun

As they got back into the patrol car, Mike took off his cap and wiped his sweaty forehead.

— "Do you think days like today… change anything?"

Athena looked at him calmly.

— "They keep the world from falling apart. And if we can keep it from falling apart for one more shift, we've already done a lot."

Mike smiled.

— "Then let's end this day doing just that."

5:03 p.m. – Last call: elderly man lost in downtown LA

An 84-year-old man with Alzheimer's had left his home that morning. His daughter called, desperate. The man was found walking near Wilshire, confused, dehydrated.

Mike approached him in a low, gentle voice.

— "Sir, what's your name?"

— "I'm… James. But I don't remember where I came from."

Athena held his hand.

— "Let's take you to your daughter. She's waiting for you with blankets and hot soup."

He cried. Mike did too. But quietly.

8:07 p.m. – End of shift | Police station parking lot

Mike and Athena sat on the hood of the police car, looking at the Los Angeles sky. The radio was finally silent.

— "It was a… normal day," Mike said.

— "And yet, tiring."

— "But necessary."

Athena stood up.

— "Come on. Michael made feijoada. And Harry wants you to read the new list of questions: 'Have you ever gone undercover as a musician?'"

Mike laughed.

— "This day was definitely worth it."

They got into the police car.

Not like two ordinary police officers.

But like silent guardians of a noisy city.

Day after day.

In the midst of chaos and silence.

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Chapter 6 - Chapter 11-12