Del Fuego!

Amy and Rosa stepped out of the town-car and onto the curb. Jeffords closed the door and the car silently pulled away, to be replaced by another, seconds later. The entrance to the club was wide, bright and welcoming. A neon sign saying Del Fuego! hung above the door, suffusing the area with vivid pink light.
"You ready?" Amy asked, glancing over at Rosa. Rosa nodded. They stepped through the door and into the noisy club.

The girls couldn't approach Fyers or DeAngelo directly, so they tried to blend in. They danced till they got thirsty, then ordered drinks, then danced some more. That they were being observed did not go unnoticed by Jeffords.
"Santiago and Diaz have certainly attracted attention. I just hope it's the right kind." He said into his lapel mic.
"Copy that Jeffords, see if you can get closer. I need the camera on them." Holt's voice crackled in Jeffords' ear. Sergeant Jeffords was wearing a hidden camera. He slowly moved through the club and eventually found Diaz and Santiago drinking at the bar.
"On the house." The barman said, passing the two ladies another drink each.

"Thanks, hot stuff." Amy said, slurring her words slightly.
"What the hell was that about?" Jeffords said, approaching.
"Four-drink Amy is a pervert." Rosa reminded Jeffords. "We should probably go now." She added, as Amy knocked back her fifth. Five-drink Amy is super confident. If ever they were going to take down Fyers, now was the time.

The two ladies found a quiet corner of the club, on a beautiful couch, and tried to be as seductive as possible. Sergeant Jeffords tried to scare everyone off so that Fyers and DeAngelo would approach.

"I gotta admit, they look foxy as hell." Peralta said, watching on the camera. "I might be biased, but I think Amy is the hottest person in the whole place."
Amy and Rosa did their best to look sexy.

It worked. After about twenty minutes, a thick, balding man approached. They knew from their intel that this was Victor DeAngelo, Fyers' Number 2.
"You ladies look ravishing." He said hungrily. His voice was oily and smooth. If you had to describe Victor DeAngelo in one word, that word would be: slimy.
"You've caught the eye of someone very special. He'd like to meet both of you. Follow me ladies." He said it with the air of someone used to complete obedience.
Amy and Rosa followed him upstairs, past pairs of guards, and finally into a luxurious wood-panelled office. Saxon Fyers was sitting at the large oak desk, his hands crossed in front of him. The door clicked shut behind them.
They had him now.