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"I do."
"Do you?" He scoffs. "Cause it sounded to me like you were wondering the point of it all just a second ago. You were gonna learn this sooner or later, son. The deck's stacked against you, that's your weight to carry. But the real question is if you're gonna use this weight as something you lift to become stronger or if you're gonna let it pull you down like an anchor."
You remember that phrase well from your earliest days of training, just a few months ago, everything seems so different now. Hawthorne rises from his seat and approaches yours as he holds out his hand.
"You're not gonna let it be an anchor, are you?" He asks firmly.
"No, sir." You reply, grasping his hand and rising to meet him as he claps your shoulder.
"Good man. Now let's-"
The radio crackles to life and you hear Bunko's meandering voice come through.
"Sergeant, I got someone on the street out here, sedan with the brights on just facing the gates. Haven't made a move yet but it's been over five minutes."
Hawthorne goes to grab his belt walkie only for another crackle. This time Banks.
"Also got something in the rear garden near the cemetery, Sarge. Found a coat tossed over the top of the fence, someone might have hopped it."
Hawthorne mutters a curse as you speak.
"Do we do something?"
"Like what?" He replies
>"Like I go and check out the cemetery. Give Costas and Banks a hand sweeping it."
>"Like I go and make sure Bunko isn't freaking out over a pizza delivery boy."
>"Like you go and check out the cemetery. Give Costas and Banks a hand sweeping it."
>"Like you go and make sure Bunko isn't freaking out over a pizza delivery boy."
>"Fair point... we should stay here. We're the house team after all."
>Write-In
