“Target spotted. Exiting the building.”

Constable J.J. took in a slow, deep, and steady breath. She adjusted her hands on the scope in her hand, dialing a wheel to zoom in. She balanced herself against the metal railing, feet at shoulder width, knees bent. One hand on the bend of her elbow, bracing the scope against her shoulder.

Several blocks ahead was the Stanley Central Prison. A large four wing complex in the middle of dust and dirt, with only a few sparse clusters of trees around. A single road passed it by, only a few cars and busses travelled to and fro.

J.J. trained her scope at the front door. A large man with a broad chest walked out of the prison’s front entrance. Arms out, embracing the freedom that blew in his hair. He brought up his hands to comb his handlebar moustache, making it nice and neat. Tattoos of swirling fog and smoke rippling over his thick arms.

“Identified target, Big Smoke. He’s heading to the side of the road. Unarmed. Carrying only an envelope.”

J.J. zoomed in more, close enough to fill the scope with the target’s head. She could see the fine lines in his bleach white handlebar moustache. She stretched out a finger, curling it around.

“Taking the shot. Firing. Firing.”

The scope went black!

“Wh-wha! Sarge! I need another quarter!”

Sergeant King leaned his back against the railing on the hill, next to an old water tower that tourists were flocking around with pictures and selfies. He looked away as J.J. shook at the tourist scope with both of her hands hands.

“Sir! Quarter! Please!”

“This wouldn’t be so awkward if you hadn’t forgot to bring binoculars.” King sighed and he pulled out another coin, flicking it with a thumb for J.J. to catch. His other hand held onto a burger in a wrapper, taking a huge bite to ease his despair of being a quarter poorer. “If you really want to be a SWAT sniper so badly, just apply to their department like a normal person and receive proper training.”

J.J. stopped the coin mid-insert with a wince.

King slowed his chewing. “Said they call you back, didn’t they?”

“I-it’s been three days.” J.J. coughed, restarting the timer on her tourist telescope. “We haven’t seen any of the suspects. The last time the Jones brothers visited their father it was a whole month prior the hospital incident. Are you sure they’ll show up, especially when we have an ABP on them.”

“...” King held up his free hand, making a phone gesture to his ear. “Yes. Hello. Lieutenant. Constable J.J. would like to say your intel sucks. That is all. Click.” With a dead pan stare he went back to eating his burger like a normal person. “Patience is a virtue.”

J.J. frowned, but ended up sighing. She peered back into the telescope, keeping an eye on their main target. “Hey Sarge?”

“Yeh?”

“Could you train me? You know, to be better?”

“You really want to be in SWAT that bad?”

J.J. nodded!

King thought it over, then answered. “...20 more cases, then we’ll talk.”

“Oh come ooooooooooon! Can we cut it down to ten!?”

King turned around to lean his elbows on the railings, nonchalantly enjoying his lunch. “Bored or not J.J. we got a job. Cap said observation only. So.” He ended the topic by gesturing a hand towards the view of Stanley Central Prison.

“Sarge, I’m serious I...fiiiine.” J.J. let out a long groan of defeat and turned back to her tourist scope. After adjusting the zoom and checking the area around Big Smoke, she spoke up again. “Still, I don’t get it. The Jones brother were brazen enough to rescue their little brother from the hospital, straight out of police custody. Why wouldn’t they storm the jail to get their dad out? They got the firepower right?”

“Beanie Brain could be a lynch pin.” King eyed the prison as he chewed on his mouthful. “Maybe the brothers had a plan, to wait for their father. Lay low until his release. But when Beanie got arrested, they got antsy. To go that far to get Beanie out, he must be critical for whatever they’re working on.”

“What plan would that be?”

“Who knows. Big Smoke has a long history of larceny, robbery, assault battery, almost anything he could make money off of. The streets say his mob empire was built from robbing places and extortion. Very ambitious.”

J.J. furrowed her brow. “So, after 6 years of prison, a free man, he’s gonna throw that away for another gig?”

“As I said.” King whispered. “very ambitious man... Hey, see that Honda Civic?”

“Ah, yes sir. I do. License plate Victor-Tango-Niner-Five-Two-Zulu...The windows are tinted but I can tell there are four people...Big Smoke is following them.”

J.J. focused the scope, taking a better look. She saw the freed man Big Smoke softly jogging to the side along the road curb. The more he did so, the more he fell out of view from the prison building as well as the guard watch tower. He ended up standing under some trees, giving him more than shade.

An orange Honda Civic drove past him, only to make a quick u-turn to where he was standing. It stopped, and a man with a bald head climbed out. A scorpion tattoo crawling over his dome. The man with a tattoo glared at Big Smoke, slamming the door shut...then pulled out a gun on him!

...Psyche! Finger guns!

J.J. stared as Scorpion swept his father Big Smoke into his arms, hauling the freed man off his feet in a spin. “...Oh my god it’s really them.”

One by one, the Honda Civic opened their doors. One-Eyed, Piercings, even Beanie Brains climbed out. One-Eyed ran over, throwing himself in a father-son-son group hug. Piercings walked up, but stopped and turned to look at his little brother. Beanie Brains loitered around the car, head down and thumbs tapping on his phone. Piercings came over, smacked Beanie Brain across the back of his head and gave him a light shove towards the others.

Big Smoke pulled back from the father-son-son embrace, seeing his youngest boy. Tears welled up in his eyes, a big toothy grin. He knelt down on one knee, arms wide open. Beanie Brain stared...turned around with a nope. Big Smoke lunged, giving Beanie Brain a bear hug from behind and hauled him in the air. The teen’s legs were flailing all over.

“Gang’s all here.” King asked, squinting from his position. “Ballsy.”

J.J. nodded. “Yeah. All suspects, including Beanie Brains. They’re boarding their car and heading out.”

“Let’s continue the observation then.” King finished up the last of his burger, crumpled up the wrapper, and tossed it into the garbage bin. He walked up, slipping past a crowd of tourists, J.J. following closely.

“Wait, sarge. Should we try and slip a tracker on them? I’ll volunteer!”

“Now you want to be a James Bond? My god, J.J. you’re everywhere..”