Chapter 4: The Transfer Arrangement
The Governor's office smelled like old leather and power.
Mahogany furniture, state seal mounted behind the desk, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Sacramento. Everything in this room was designed to remind you exactly how small you were and how large the state of California happened to be.
Governor Patricia Halloway stood when I entered, which surprised me. She was shorter than she looked on TV, mid-fifties, gray suit that probably cost more than my car. Her handshake was firm, professional, and lasted exactly two seconds.
"Detective Colen. Thank you for coming." She gestured to a leather chair. "Please, sit."
The System activated immediately.
[ **ANALYZING: GOVERNOR HALLOWAY** ]
[ **CONFIDENCE: 74%** ]
[ **GENUINE RESPECT: 82%** ]
[ **POLITICAL CALCULATION: 91%** ]
[ **POWER AWARENESS: ABSOLUTE** ]
[ **ENERGY: 97/100** ]
"She respects me, but this is still chess. Every word is positioning."
"The Vanderfeld case was impressive work," she said, settling behind her desk. "Three months cold, international complications, and you closed it in four days. Ambassador Vanderfeld personally called to express his gratitude."
"I had good instincts and better luck," I said.
"Don't be modest. I've read your file." She opened a folder on her desk—my personnel record. "Competent detective, solid case closure rate, but nothing exceptional until last week. What changed?"
The question was sharp, probing. I met her eyes and lied smoothly.
"I stopped playing it safe. Took a risk on a case everyone else had given up on."
[ **ANALYZING: GOVERNOR RESPONSE** ]
[ **SATISFACTION WITH ANSWER: 76%** ]
[ **STILL EVALUATING YOU: ACTIVE** ]
She nodded slowly. "Risk-taking with calculated precision. That's exactly what I need."
The shift in pronouns was deliberate—she'd moved from evaluation to recruitment. I kept my expression neutral, waiting.
"California Bureau of Investigation's Serious Crimes Unit handles our state's most complex cases," she continued. "Murders, organized crime, political corruption. They need detectives who think differently. Who can see angles others miss."
She paused, studying my reaction.
"Especially when working alongside consultants who... operate unconventionally."
Patrick Jane. She was talking about Patrick Jane without naming him.
"I've heard CBI uses civilian consultants," I said carefully.
"One in particular." A slight smile. "Brilliant, difficult, and utterly essential. The team that works with him needs to be adaptable. Strong enough to push back when necessary, flexible enough to follow unconventional leads."
[ **ANALYZING: RECRUITMENT PITCH** ]
[ **GENUINE BELIEF IN YOUR FIT: 84%** ]
[ **POLITICAL BENEFIT TO HER: 88%** ]
[ **THIS IS CALCULATED MOVE, NOT CHARITY** ]
[ **ENERGY: 94/100** ]
"You're offering me a position with CBI," I said.
"I'm offering you a transfer to the Serious Crimes Unit, effective one week from today. You'd work under Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon, partnering with her team on major cases." She leaned forward. "This is a significant career acceleration. Most detectives wait years for this opportunity."
The offer hung in the air between us. I let the silence stretch for exactly three seconds—long enough to seem thoughtful, short enough to avoid seeming uncertain.
"I accept."
Her smile widened. "Excellent. Deputy Director Hightower will handle your official onboarding. Welcome to CBI, Detective Colen."
We shook hands again. This time, the gesture felt like a contract signing.
CBI headquarters in Sacramento occupied the third floor of a state office building downtown. Glass walls, open floor plan, bullpen layout with desks clustered in teams. Nothing like the cramped precinct I'd left behind.
I arrived two days later under the pretense of "transfer paperwork," but really, I was scouting. Understanding the terrain before I officially joined. The receptionist directed me to HR, and I took the long route, eyes cataloging everything.
Senior Agent Teresa Lisbon's team occupied the northwest corner. Four desks arranged in a rough square, with a brown leather couch against the wall. The couch currently held one sleeping Patrick Jane.
I stopped at the visitor's area—a glass wall separated me from the bullpen—and watched.
Lisbon was exactly as I remembered from the show. Compact, maybe five-four, dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. She moved like coiled energy, every gesture efficient and purposeful. The System tracked her through the glass.
[ **ANALYZING: TERESA LISBON** ]
[ **CONFIDENCE: 71%** ]
[ **AUTHORITY COMPLEX: STRONG** ]
[ **PROTECTIVE INSTINCTS: 87% - REGARDING TEAM** ]
[ **STRESS BASELINE: ELEVATED (JOB-RELATED)** ]
[ **ENERGY: 91/100** ]
Wayne Rigsby sat at the desk closest to her, big guy with an easy grin, currently doing paperwork. His body language was relaxed but alert—former athlete, probably. The System confirmed military background in his posture.
[ **ANALYZING: WAYNE RIGSBY** ]
[ **CONFIDENCE: 69%** ]
[ **LOYALTY MARKERS: HIGH (TEAM-ORIENTED)** ]
[ **ROMANTIC INTEREST DETECTED: SUBJECT UNKNOWN** ]
Grace Van Pelt was newer—I could tell by the nervous energy, the way she double-checked every file she touched. Redhead, young, probably fresh from academy. She had the intensity of someone trying to prove themselves.
[ **ANALYZING: GRACE VAN PELT** ]
[ **CONFIDENCE: 64%** ]
[ **INSECURITY MARKERS: MODERATE** ]
[ **DEDICATION LEVEL: VERY HIGH** ]
Kimball Cho sat perfectly still at his desk, reading a case file with complete focus. Asian, maybe mid-thirties, and the System struggled with him.
[ **ANALYZING: KIMBALL CHO** ]
[ **CONFIDENCE: 58% - LOW READING ACCURACY** ]
[ **EMOTIONAL TELLS: MINIMAL** ]
[ **HIGH DISCIPLINE RATING** ]
[ **SUBJECT PRESENTS DIFFICULTY FOR ANALYSIS** ]
[ **ENERGY: 87/100** ]
"Cho's going to be a problem. Can't read him easily."
And then there was Patrick Jane.
He lay on the couch with his eyes closed, three-piece suit slightly rumpled, hands folded on his chest like a corpse. For a moment, I thought he actually was asleep. Then his eyes snapped open.
He looked directly at me.
Through forty feet of space and a glass wall, Patrick Jane's gaze locked onto mine with laser focus. The System reacted instantly.
[ **WARNING: OBSERVANT SUBJECT DETECTED** ]
[ **RED HERRING PROJECTOR: ACTIVATING** ]
[ **DEFENSE PROTOCOL: ACTIVE** ]
[ **ENERGY: 84/100** ]
Jane sat up slowly, head tilting like a bird examining something unusual. His eyes narrowed. I could practically see the gears turning in his head, trying to read me the way he read everyone.
The Red Herring Projector scrambled the signals. Whatever he was seeing, it wasn't accurate. The confusion on his face was subtle but unmistakable—a micro-expression of frustration crossed his features.
He stood, still staring at me, clearly intrigued by something he couldn't quite parse.
I smiled and gave a small wave. Casual. Friendly. Nothing to see here.
Jane's expression shifted to open curiosity. He started walking toward the glass wall, and I knew staying would only invite more scrutiny. I turned and headed toward HR, feeling his gaze on my back the entire way.
[ **ANALYZING: PATRICK JANE** ]
[ **CONFIDENCE: 41% - EXTREMELY LOW** ]
[ **RED HERRING INTERFERENCE: MAXIMUM** ]
[ **SUBJECT ATTEMPTING TO ANALYZE YOU: CONFIRMED** ]
[ **SUBJECT CONFUSED BY LACK OF CLEAR READS** ]
[ **ENERGY: 81/100** ]
"Perfect. I just became the puzzle he can't solve."
The HR paperwork took twenty minutes. Background verification, security clearance confirmation, insurance forms. Standard bureaucracy. When I left through the main entrance, I glanced back at the bullpen.
Jane stood at the glass wall, watching me leave. Our eyes met again, and this time he smiled—small, knowing, the kind of expression that said I'm going to figure you out.
I nodded once and walked away.
The dynamic was set. Patrick Jane had just met someone who defied his legendary abilities. That curiosity would work in my favor—he'd want to understand me, which meant engaging with me, which meant I'd have access to his insights and methods.
But I needed to be careful. Jane was brilliant, and the Red Herring Projector wasn't foolproof. If he got close enough, observed long enough, he might start seeing patterns the System couldn't hide.
"One week. Then I'm officially part of his world."
The farewell gathering at Sacramento PD was small, awkward in the way these things always were. Captain Perez had ordered pizza, Hayes brought beer, and Morrison showed up because not showing up would've looked petty.
"To Colen," Hayes raised his bottle. "Getting out before the rest of us."
Everyone drank. Morrison's smile was tight, forced, but he clinked his bottle against mine anyway.
"You earned it," he said, and the System confirmed he meant it. Barely.
[ **ANALYZING: MORRISON** ]
[ **GRUDGING RESPECT: 67%** ]
[ **LINGERING JEALOUSY: 74%** ]
[ **GENUINE ACKNOWLEDGMENT: 52%** ]
"He hates that I succeeded, but he can't deny I deserve it."
Captain Perez pulled me aside near the end, away from the others.
"You're going to do well up there," she said quietly. "But remember—CBI plays at a different level. Bigger cases, bigger stakes, bigger egos."
"I'll be careful."
"I'm not worried about careful." She met my eyes. "I'm worried about you getting lost in the politics. Stay focused on the work."
"Yes, ma'am."
She squeezed my shoulder once, then let go. "Make us proud."
My phone buzzed during the drive home. Bank notification. Another deposit—fifteen thousand this time, from Aunt Helen. The accompanying text included a photo of a designer suit being shipped to my apartment.
Congratulations on CBI! You'll need to dress the part. - Aunt Helen
I laughed despite myself. The family had somehow heard about the transfer—probably Uncle Richard's connections—and decided celebration required expensive gifts. The balance in my checking account had crossed ninety thousand.
"Most cops scrape by. I have more money than I know what to do with."
The apartment felt different when I got home. Quieter. The Vanderfeld case files still sat on my coffee table, but they belonged to the past now. In seven days, I'd be working real cases. Major crimes. Murders.
And Patrick Jane would be there, brilliant and damaged and dangerous in his own way.
The System chimed softly.
[ **QUEST PROGRESS: ESTABLISH CBI POSITIONING** ]
[ **STATUS: 94% COMPLETE** ]
[ **NEXT MILESTONE: FIRST DAY AT CBI** ]
[ **ENERGY: 78/100** ]
I sat on the couch and let the reality settle over me. Seven days until Season 1 began. Seven days until everything I knew from the show started playing out in real time.
The question was whether I'd be ready when it did.
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