Realistic or Modern Leonard Beauregard: A Justified Rage

[Stickdom]

Just Another Day...
You sit behind your desk, cluttered with uncountable piles of paperwork, evidence reports, potential suspects, and posters for missing cats. You thought that becoming an investigator would be the pinnacle of your career, a position that would leave you engaged and content with your work for the rest of your days. Instead, you find yourself doing much of the same routine tasks you had when you were "just an officer", though now with more responsibility and the pressure of having to procure much more noticeable results. You've been officially promoted to an investigator for several months now; Six? Seven? You lost track, you don't feel like much has changed except they moved you to a more secluded office, piled on a truckload of mundane cases, and probably worst of all, cut most of your contact with the rest of the patrol group. Not that you're isolated or forbidden from getting in touch, but your lines of duty are on such a different course that there's not much time for socializing with the rest of the guys and bumming around town looking for speed racers or stopping grandmas for running red lights. Your circle of associates are now much more high-brow, important chiefs of city security, Officer So-And-So with contacts in Washington, Agent What's-Her-Name who insists on shouting like it's a national emergency every time there's a new problem. You get the feeling that some of these others in the upper crust are like kids playing at being cops, there's the same sense of drama and nonsense you'd expect from a 6-year-old pointing his finger at his friends and calling out "bang!"

You just hope to get your big break soon, there have been a few cases that have potential, you just have to be the one to get the jump on the gun and you'll be in big business. Some are routine for a big city, persons gone missing or evidence of drug rings operating, but one slew of cases has caught your eye several times. A couple of gangs that have been showing their heads recently, picking on the other when they get the chance, robbing their turf or burning down a hideout you hadn't got the chance to get a search warrant for yet. You've had one instance of a full out gun fight in the streets, last month, a couple of casualties, but no civilians or officers were hurt in breaking it up. You tried to bring them back in for questioning, you personally nabbed one of the wounded combatants as they tried to limp away. A squad of police escorted the ambulances to the hospital, where you watched them as they tried to save as many as they could. Unfortunately, your man didn't make it, and the ones that did survive their injuries were tried immediately and released on a hefty bail, paid up front by anonymous benefactors to the perpetrators. Your jurisdiction should have had full rights to interrogation and incarceration, but the court let them go way too easily for it to have been a simple bail. If you play your cards right, you think you are beginning to find the traces of a corrupt court being paid off by the gangs, but you don't have enough solid evidence yet to point any fingers, and you know the media and their own corruption will eat you alive if you start poking your nose where it doesn't belong. You have to set it up, dig out some more evidence, and then when you've got them right where you want them....

Your big plans are cut short by a sharp ring from your pocket, the theme song you and your old partner Vincent shared a laugh over a few times. Of course you'll take a call from him. His gruff voice cracks a little over the phone, you aren't getting very good reception here, he must be on the outskirts of town. "Hey Leo. I'm at Elle's Drive-In," Vince was at the old diner you two used to frequent, it's around lunchtime so that wasn't unusual, but you caught the stressed tones in his voice, something was wrong. "You're going to want to come down here. I... I haven't seen anything like this." Before you can respond, he has already hung up. You check your watch, it'll take you ten minutes to get there from your personal office, no one is going to miss you in that time. As you look around to locate your things, you notice the card you got at the fortune teller's shop last night. You don't know why it suddenly comes to mind, but you feel compelled to slip it into your pocket. Maybe it'll give you some good luck after all.

JustWhipIt​

 

[JustWhipIt]

From a professional standpoint, it'd be a rather foolish thing to do to run out of the office to Vince's aid. Even though the man was Leonard's longtime partner and cherished friend, he could only imagine the PR disaster it would be if he was caught acting alone without the approval of his higher-ups. Leave the heroism to the patrollers—he was an investigator now, which included a brand new set of rules to abide by and an entirely different job description altogether. Leonard himself would be the last person to consider himself above the law or his position, and the potential consequences were more than enough to keep in line most of the time. Of course, that's only most of the time. The thought of leaving Vince out to dry made him feel equally as uneasy. The guy was his partner, for god's sake. He knew Vince, and the solemn vibe he picked up was more than enough to set off a few alarms. Surely there was a reason he requested him personally, all that partner-crap aside. And so here he was, given the dilemma of choosing between his own career or whatever it was that Vince was dead-set on showing him. Leonard pressed two fingers against his temple, trying to further along the deciding process. Luckily, he tended to be a rather decisive person.

Another quick glance at his watch gave Leonard some reassurance that he would be back in the office within the hour. A feeling of urgency manifested from his partner's brief and incredibly vague message—what exactly should he be prepared to witness? Some bodies or another shootout in the making—those were the most urgent possibilities that came to mind. Still, he knew better than to call back, aware of the limited time Vince must be working with right now. That much was enough to get Leonard out of his chair. His old patroller mentality was peaking right about now. Yet, he couldn't help but worry about what was at stake for him. Much of the department would be having a field were they to discover that he was off neglecting his duties and instead chit-chatting with his old partner. He'd given Vince the benefit of the doubt that whatever was happening on the other hand was dire enough. Leonard paced down to the department parking lot, careful not to raise suspicion—the last thing he wanted right now. He unlocked and hopped into his assigned vehicle, trying to shake off the terrible feeling that one of his bosses could potentially discover his disappearance any second now.

Only a few seconds later, Leonard found himself on the streets of Chicago. Knowing the city layout as well as the back of his hand, as well as possessing refined motor skills, he was only a block away from Elle's within six minutes, only stopping due to unfortunate traffic light timing. By now, he'd opted to forget about his own worries in favor for whatever the hell it was that's waiting for him just around the corner.