2019-11-23 - Bad Boys, Bad Boys

Ruiz is not at his desk when the call comes through; he's in the stairwell, coming back up from a (very) late lunch with Charlie in tow, and when he sees the number, he answers it immediately. "Morrison? Yeah, it's de la Vega. Tail them, but don't engage unless necessary." And by necessary, he probably means that pretending to pew pew things turns into actually pew pewing things. "We'll head out now. How long would you say we've got?" He hitches his head to Charlie as if to say, you're driving and digs his keys out for her as he pivots and starts heading back down the stairs.

There is zero question from Charlie when the phone is answered, but there is a very interested look. She's listening to this side of the conversation, and when Ruiz holds the keys out to her she grabs them and starts to take the stairs two or three at a time to haul ass back to the car. She's not on the phone, and the faster she gets the car running the faster they can get the hell out of there.

"The bridge. Red Hyundai. Get me a license plate number? I'll put a call in to the Casino enroute." Just, you know, in case they need to evacuate people. Then the captain hangs up, and hoofs it down the stairs after Charlie. She's got a bit of a headstart on him, and he's got at least one more call to make. But their secret weapon? That fucking Charger. They might have to obey traffic laws (mostly), but the thing accelerates like nobody's business. He shoulders his way out after the blonde, and heads briskly for the unmarked muscle-mobile while she gets it started up.

Driving that car is a pleasure. Especially compared to Charlie's personal car, and even the car she usuaully gets to drive while working a case. Not that she'll ever say so. Traffic laws are barely paid attention to, although she's careful about not blowing through any red lights. No one needs to hit some poor granny or anything.

When they get there, she waits for Ruiz to share the plan on where they are parking, and what exactly their next move is, "We wanting to just ambush them... or you got some other plan, Cap?"

Ruiz is not accustomed to riding passenger in his own car. Looks like Christmas came early for Charlie, though. They pile in and gun it for the bridge, and he takes the opportunity to check his weapon's clip on the drive over. "Ambush?" He chuckles. "I think you've been watching too much television." He rolls his shoulders out as they pull up near the checkpoint. "We're going to walk over there and ask them some questions. See if we can keep it civil, si?" Because fully loaded sig sauers are super duper civil. "Let's go." He pops his door.

"With what free time, Cap?" Charlie wonders as she gets out of the car, a hand moving to check her gun, but she doesn't pull it. She knows exactly what it is loaded with, but it doesn't hurt to reassure herself that it is there. It is. She tucks the keys into the pocket of her jacket before she flashes Ruiz a smile, "And I'm always civil, Captain. No need to worry about me, at least."

Yeah, these guys are real professionals, all right. The interplay between Mitchell and Big J is observed as the captain, uniformed and kitted out today in standard ballistic vest and duty rig, prowls on over to the car. He speaks into his radio briefly, probably to inform dispatch of the situation and that they're going in. And might need backup. Then he draws his gun and uses it to rap on the back of the vehicle, to inform the guys in the car of his presence there. "All of you. Out of the vehicle. Hands up on your head." His voice is pitched to a rough bark, a little louder than it usually gets. Hopefully Charlie's backing him up.

It'd be a really shitty thing to not back the Captain up, and pretty much a career ender, too. The gun that gets stuck out the back window is enough for her to draw her own weapon, and she moves around to cover Ruiz. Big J is watched with half her attention, since he's already out of the car being a dumb ass, but she doesn't take her full attention away from the car and the other idiotic occupants that are in it, "Take the exit slow, boys."

Wallace gets a gold star, at least, for behaving himself. And by a gold star, he pretty much gets to be the first to get booked. Ruiz hitches his chin to Charlie, then to the guy on his knees beside the car in a clear directive to get him cuffed. And hopefully they do have some reinforcements arriving, as he isn't going to be able to fit all these guys in the Charger. "I said get the fuck out. Get out of the car. NOW." That would be the voice he uses on rookies showing up for work hungover, and stupid civilians getting on his last nerve.

Mitchell's checked for a weapon and then hauled to his feet. Charlie can book him, too. Meanwhile, he shifts so that he can level his very loaded weapon at the schmucks arguing over the gun, and bellow his request one more time.

There is a tense moment where there might be this whole situation falling apart around them. But as three hand themselves over like nice little annoyances, Charlie is willing to jump on this and get Wallace cuffed first before she moves on to Mitchell after he's been checked. Getting those three out of the way as quickly as possible leaves...well, the less than intelligent pair in the backseat, "Cap..." It's a worry, right? Two dipshits fighting over a gun in a tense situation usually doesn't end well.

Ruiz has that air of things being under control, which may be entirely fabricated and designed to convince himself as much as the more junior detective on this little ride along with him. But he sure seems to think everything's cool. Despite the fact that this is no longer all that civil. "Get him in a different car," he tells that other cop tautly, jerking his head to Buster. What's his name? "Morrison." Yeah, something like that. Meanwhile, Wallace and Mitchell are totally going for a ride in the back seat of the Charger, courtesy of a snarly looking Hispanic cop. "Gun," he tells Charlie, just as brusquely as he spoke to the other cop. "Back seat." She'll know to glove up first, so he doesn't bother telling her how to do her job.

It's not until everyone is handcuffed, ziptied, or otherwise restrained in some form or fashion that Charlie reaches into the pocket of her jacket, pulling out some latex gloves. She tugs them on before she moves towards the car, tugging the back door open before she starts to search the back of the car, sliding her hands into the creases of the seats, checking the doors. It might just be a gun she's looking for, but she's going to make sure there isn't anything else they can slap a charge on them for. Soon as she finds the gun she digs hooks her pinky through the trigger guard, holding it up to show Ruiz that she's got it.

Buster, that sneaky little fucker, is given the stinkeye in particular by de la Vega as the LEOs get the men booked and farmed off toward cruisers. The area's swarming with cops by this point; lights flashing, radios crackling as a few more patrol officers roll up to assist. Ruiz gets the two guys shoved into the back of his car, slams the door, and swings into the front to wait for Charlie. The laptop in the centre console is pivoted around so he can key something in. "If you haven't done anything, you've got nothing to worry about," he informs Mitchell coolly. Wallace, he keeps half an eye on while he waits for his partner, and pauses to relay something to dispatch when they ask for a status.

Chain of evidence could be signed over to anyone else, left to run the gun to evidence. But Charlie puts it in a bag, signs it, and keeps it with her when she heads towards the car to slide into it with Ruiz and the other pair. She puts the gun right within sight of the two in the backseat, letting them know that they damn well aren't getting off scott-free in all this. Then she starts the car, letting the rest deal with getting the others to the station, and focusing on the drive. A nice, slooooooow drive back.

Obviously it's Buster they want. Not that Ruiz is going to let on to this fact. He faces forward, though his eyes flick to the rearview mirror occasionally to keep tabs on his cargo back there. When Wallace starts to cry, there isn't so much as a ripple in those calm waters. He gazes at him for a few seconds, then turns back to the laptop as he fills in more information. Identifying information for the gun, and for the suspects they've picked up. Their car's license plate number. All the boring ass details he doesn't typically get stuck with.

"Got a prior, don't you?" That's to Mitchell, his voice low. "Married? Or is it your girlfriend expecting? Kids are a lot of work. Hard to do when you're in jail."

The tears are given a very brief look, and Charlie glances at Ruiz with a little bit of a roll of her eyes. But then she's turning her attention forward again, and she's not at all taking the more typical route back. She lifts her eyes up towards Mitchell in the rearview, trying to convey to him that she has utter faith in him, that he can get through this, get off with probation. If he just talks. She believes in him, and his future baby. "You can tell us everything?"

The laptop? Oh, good luck with that, Mitchell. Ruiz makes sure to keep the thing turned toward him, and out of the direct line of sight of the guys in the back. It's also got one of those funky covers that makes it almost impossible to read at even a slight angle to the screen. "Hey!" he barks to the pair, switching to his snarly, authoritative voice again. "Settle the fuck down before I slap charges on both of you so fast your heads spin."

Oh Wallace. Charlie turns her attention towards him when he starts saying these fuckers shot them. "Name names..." She suggests, because names are good and if someone is going to flip? Better be direct about it.

"Immunity? That's a pretty tall order. I'll have to think about that." Meanwhile, the station's visible up ahead. "Why don't you start by talking, and we'll see what we can do about the gun," he tells Wallace flatly, finishing up with the laptop and shutting the lid. His phone rings, and he picks up while keeping half an ear on the conversation with Mitchell and Wallace. Something about the perps' car having been towed in, and what would he like done with it.

Charlie's not going to help out with encouraging anyone about this. Instead she's focusing on the driving, letting Ruiz dangle the prize of immunity and things out in front of the pair in back, although she's listening like a hawk.

See? Was that so hard? They are, in fact, tossed into separate interrogation rooms once they get to the station. And de la Vega's happy to help them talk, if they forget why talking's a good idea. And then they might get around to discussing what deals can be made, in exchange for something ironclad on Buster.