Yes, without problems

“Come on, Georgie…” she muttered to herself, wishing her task to wrap up quick so she could go back to the precinct, put on some more tasteful clothes and bury herself under the heap of paperwork waiting for her at her desk.

She took a deep breath as the blue car’s door swung open and a young black man climbed out. Bald head, neatly trimmed goatee, muscle-packed arms, dressed in a too-small white shirt and baggy, ripped-up jeans, he fit the picture in his file to a tee.

Apparently not too worried about the legality of this meeting, Jizzy wasted no time taking in his surroundings. Instead, he immediately zeroed in on the black SUV and strode across the parking lot, a wad of dollar bills already in hand and clear to see.

“This idiot is really making it easy, huh?” Nancy muttered, feeling a small smirk form around her lips. And it had taken Schmelzer and Campbell months to get this far…

Constantly clicking away and adjusting the zoom and focus, she documented the young gangster’s approach of the SUV. As he came closer, the driver’s side window rolled down. Whoever the Machida-lieutenant was, he was more careful than his obnoxious business partner, rolling only half-way down, just wide enough for him to hand over a small, tightly-wrapped parcel. Jizzy took the package, pushed it into one of his pockets and handed over his wad of cash. He then tried to say something to the mysterious driver, but as soon as the money had entered the car the window rolled back up and the SUV started moving, swiftly and silently rolling of the parking lot.

“What an idiot!” Nancy frowned, shaking her head a little as she watched Jizzy stand about for a moment, trying to act casual before he quickly returned to his car. The music resumed, the engine blared and the tuned BMW left in a dusty cloud, once again shrouding the secluded parking lot in silence. “Gotcha!”

Feeling elated, Nancy glanced over at her colleague, cocking an eyebrow in irritation. “Are you… texting?!” she asked, stunned at how unprofessional this man was.

Schmelzer quickly let his phone slide back into his pocket and shrugged, giving her a grin. “You seemed to have a handle on things…”

“Yep!” Nancy smirked, proudly lifting the camera. “We got what we needed. Now let’s get back to the precinct.”

“Let me see!” Schmelzer reached for the camera.

For a moment, Nancy was vexed. Was he seriously doubting her capability to fulfill a task as simple as this? What a fucking prick… She really just wanted to get this over with and after a second of contemplation she realized that a discussion was likely only going to prolong things. Schmelzer literally sat in the driver's seat here and she would get out of here once he allowed it. Besides, if he was looking at the pictures, he wouldn’t look at her… How bad could it be? Sighing, with a dramatic eye-roll, she handed over the equipment.

“Great, now let’s see how you did…” Schmelzer mumbled, moving with the relaxed pace he liked to drive her mad with, treating her like a rookie under his supervision, not the far superior detective she was. She huffed as he switched the camera back on, then took his sweet time to slowly click through the pictures she had taken, inspecting each and every one with a ridiculous amount of minute attention.

“Are you fucking serious?!” Nancy frowned as he even zoomed in, apparently finding it very important to check the amount of detail they had on the wad of cash. Gritting her teeth in frustration she stared straight ahead, knowing that he was doing this only to get under her skin. There was no good reason why he should check the photos for several minutes but to keep her in her revealing attire for longer.

“I’m going to be rid of him in half an hour!” Nancy repeated in her head to herself, taking a deep, calming breath. She was going to make Calloway pay for this! Staring into the distance, she decided to sit out the rest of the task in silence, simply letting the clock run out until Schmelzer had **** but to drive her back. Then it was just a bunch of paper work before she could head back to the guest room of her brother Nico’s place, with a bottle of scotch and some cheesy Netflix-comedy, just treating herself.

As Nancy felt the relaxing thought work its magic on her tense muscles, she heard another car approach from the distance. At first, she didn’t think too much of it. Doubtlessly, as it got later in the evening, more and more prostitutes would guide their johns to this place to earn their living and the place would get more crowded within the hour. Then, she got a weird feeling. As the car approached that engine sounded oddly familiar. It was a ridiculous idea, there were hundreds of thousands of cars in the city and the idea that she could identify not a model, but an individual car, by sound was ludicrous. Nonetheless, her instincts told her that she knew it.