Mafia VS Police VS Killer

BBS

  Bryce's eyebrows furrowed. "But, Ohm, that's something we all learn at an early age."

  Ohm looked at him. "Well, yeah, but it hadn't hit me until then. If I hadn't gone and taken Buddy on a walk, I never would have had such fun just going around the streets and playing at the beach. If I'd stayed home and looked for the remote some more, I would have found it and just watched TV." He sighed deeply. "It made me stay up all night just thinking about all of my previous decisions in life. . . To be honest, I think I got too philosophical."

  "Well, you certainly got deep," Bryce commented, scratching the back of his neck. They stayed silent. Bryce made up his mind and went to sit down. "Do you know who our new head chief is?"

  Ohm shook his head. "Don't have a clue," he admitted.

  "Morning, everyone!" Someone exclaimed cheerfully. Both Bryce and Ohm turned around, seeing a slightly below average height man just a few feet away. "I'm Officer Lui Calibre, and I'm the new head of the Bay district police department."

  ________
Third PoV
Luke
_____________

  Luke didn't want to get up. After celebrating the arrest and successful trial against Liam Peterson, all he wanted was to sleep in and forget the world existed. Obviously, that didn't work. Groggily getting out of bed, he trudged to his bathroom to take a nice shower before he went to work.

  He checked his phone for the time. 5:45 A.M. Odd, Luke didn't usually wake up at this time. He shook it off and took his shower. With a towel wrapped around his waist and some Q-tips in hand, he went to the kitchen to go make himself some coffee. Lord knew he needed it.

  "Nice place ye've got there."

  Luke cursed and whirled around, fists raised. Why did he leave his gun under his bed? He had another stashed in the drawer under the microwave, but that was on the other side of the kitchen. He'd never make it before he inevitably got shot.

  The---freakishly---tall man leaning against his kitchen's doorframe looked amused as he looked around the kitchen.

  "How---how'd you get in here?"

  Luke cursed his little stutter at the start of his sentence, but tried to look less intimidated than he was. Not the easiest thing to do when you're in nothing but a towel.

  The lanky man shrugged. "I'm handy with the old lock picking tools." He glanced at Luke's still raised fists. "Put 'em down, man, I've come as a bit of a diplomat, if ye will."

  Luke looked at him warily as he slowly let his fists fall to his sides. "What kind of diplomat breaks into someone's house?"

  The man laughed. He had a bit of an accent, Irish maybe? Luke was of Irish descent, but being born and raised in the U.S. left him with a North Carolinian accent instead. "All right, ye've got me." He stood up straight. "Luke Patterson---"

  "How do you know my name?"

  The man flashed an annoyed look at him. "If ye let me finish, maybe I can fucking tell ye!" He cleared his throat. "Luke Patterson, my name's Daithi, although in English it's David. I'm from the FBI and we want to recruit ye."

  The kitchen was silent for all of ten seconds before--

  "What?" Luke laughed. "I'm sorry, but there's no way the FBI wants to recruit me."

  Daithi didn't look amused. "Oh yeah, laugh all ye want, just assume it's all a joke, why don't'cha?"

  Luke stopped laughing, only giggles escaping his lips. "I'm--I'm sorry, man, but the FBI? There's no way they want someone like me." He was surprised he was taking this so well.