Syd

“Shut it!” Nancy growled as she pulled out her phone and checked the display, confirming her worst fears. Syd had promised to hold up the fort until the morning, allowing her, Nancy, some much needed off-time to spend with her husband. That she called meant it was important.

“Yeah?!” she answered the phone brusquely.

“I found them!”

Nancy sighed. 'They' were the two bastards on top of the LAPD's Most Wanted list. Michael Wesson and Vincent Beretta. Elemental players of one of L.A.'s most notorious crime syndicates, both of them on the run due to Nancy's and Syd's investigative work. Wesson, more of a behind-the-scenes player, had used Beretta as his executioner for years. Numerous hits had been conducted in which one or both of the shady fucks had been involved while they had repeatedly slipped through the LAPD's fingers.

This had changed. Beretta had slipped up in a hastily conducted hit, leaving evidence behind to render both him and Wesson ****. Now they had been on the run for days, presumably already in Mexico. At least that was what Nancy had presumed until now.

“Alright... get 'em, girl!” she tried.

“They don't hide together! I cracked it but I can only go after one of them!” Nancy could hear that her partner was running, apparently already on the move, “I am going after Wesson. Nancy, you gotta get Beretta!”

“Why me? There's hundreds of good cops on duty...” Nancy pleaded.

“Cause Beretta is at the fucking Milton's Motel, which is about a mile from the airport you are at right now! And time is of the fucking essence.”

“Syd... FUCK!” Nancy dropped her head back in frustration, her good mood gone, “Which room?!”

“23!”

“FUCK!” Nancy shouted, unable to hold back her cursing as she had to focus her hardest not to smash her own phone against the dashboard. It took her two seconds to collect herself before she turned to Izzy, who watched her wide-eyed. “Get out!”

“Wh-what?!” the short-haired teen stuttered.

“Get out. Damned, Izzy!” Nancy shouted, already out of her passenger side door to run around the car, ripping open Isabel's door.

“But...” the girl protested, but complied nonetheless, knowing that Nancy's job took priority, “What about dad?!”

“You guys take a cab home! I will meet you there!” Sliding into the seat and slamming the door shut, the LAPD detective took off, leaving her step-daughter in the curb in front of the airport.