Comic?

Opening panel: news caster reporting the news of a dismembered Vietnamese man. The reporter is talking about how the man was found in the trunk of his own car.

“Local Authorities have another hate crime with an elderly Vietnamese man dismembered and left in the trunk of his very own car. Detectives are currently on the scene obtaining evidence of yet another heinous crime!” The echoing words of the reporter play behind closed eyes until what sounds like a drop of more paperwork hits my desk. “Shee-ah or however you pronounce it, here’s another one little lady.” Opening my eyes to the displeased view of a slicked hair man refusing to admit his age and a worn out face only a mother could love. I grumble “Detective D, how sweet? I got enough cases on my plate; don’t be humble take some for yourself”. Detective D glances up at the television & points “isn’t that one of your people Kali?”. “They are all my people” I mutter; he slides my feet off my own desk & puts more paperwork on it and then sternly “Then perhaps the extra credit can go to you”. He walks off feeling cocky and I wonder to myself how shocked he would be if I leaped at him; just once.

I hear my favorite detective slide her chair over to my desk “ Detective Чурбан (pronounces Churr-ban) at it again I don’t think he realizes you can kick his ass”. I smirk “then let’s leave it as an element of surprise, so what case are you spinning on Kira?”. “My anxiety is spinning on this girl. She dates this guy 3 times he gives her плохое предчувствие & she dumps him. Kid can’t let it go, girl goes missing. We got probable cause, the warrant, no suspect in custody”. “How old are they?”. Kira tosses her blonde hair accidentally showing her auburn roots “girl is 28 and the guy 35 Kal”. I am trying to give suggestions but I honestly can’t think of any angle she hasn’t thought of. I hear whistling coming from down the hall and I nudge Kira “Siti must be here with lunch”. Siti is a curvy Malaysian woman with long hair, full cheeks that give her a much softer look than Kira and I could ever dream of. Kira is beautiful but most American men fear her Russian beauty and accent even though she’s sweet. Siti’s cherub cheeks are dangerous. I’ve seen men try to own her beauty out of fear but only one man ringed her.

Siti drops Lunch on my desk “Here Kal & they made it extra spicy and sweet for you”. I notice Siti has a bag that smells like Pho “Siti how could you get Pho knowing I’m eating Asam Laksa, I can’t choose!” Siti proudly smirks into a bubbly laugh and passes the second bowl of Pho to Kira. I mimic my heart being shot and we all laugh. Kira asks “Siti what’s the stitch on your case?”. Siti cocks her head back “I won! So hopefully no more problems!” “Cheers to that!” I say as I slip out my flask. Kira & Siti glance at me lovingly but judging from concern. I smile and reluctantly put the flask back with my wallet. For a minute, we remember we are human and feel it too.

The television blares “Another Black kid killed by local law enforcement! Tune in at 11!” I hear the Sergeant come from her office and the whole floor turns to her. She sternly speaks “I know another media circus production makes us look like the enemy of the people but we can pull through this! We are here to protect the people and anyone whose not for the community can be weeded out. Don’t let this new story deter you. We are this city’s last line of hope and protection. Without us, the city will go back in time”. The room is silent. Sargent Chloe Lombardo has been trying to keep the good willed motivated since the city started showing signs of turning against its protectors. I turn to Kira and Siti “It didn’t take many rotten apples to create a war with the people; we’re not all bad.” Kira interjects “at least your color helps you in some situations, from where they stand I’m another white cop with bad motive”. I respond “our skin is blue & that will always separate us from the people signed up to protect.” We eat in silence until my partner arrives at my desk hard “KalKal, we gotta go!” I grab my coat and badge and wave to Siti and Kira.

Fox and I slide into our car with sirens blaring. “Whoa Fox! Where we rushing to?”. His smug face replies “Remember the paid protestors who were joining the movement but destroying the city?” I roll my eyes “Of Course & we caught the small timers.”. Fox lights up “Yeah but we just got a hit on one of the leaders; it’s full organization maybe a new mafia. One of their guys talked and it looks like they are inciting more mayhem to come”. I raise my fist in the air in excitement “let’s get em Fox, they turned this city into mayhem.” We weave through traffic like a sewing thread. I see the locals divulging in their debauchery. We arrive to a tattered home in Brooklyn. Backup is right behind us but the house seems too quiet. There’s a parked van at the end of the block. A small framed Spanish teenager walks by carrying a bag of metal. “Hey kid, get away from here”; he looks up for a second and runs away. (Moment to put Hidalgo in for a second).

Backup has arrived as Fox and I carefully scope the house; something doesn’t feel right. Sirens blare to make our presence known and we hit the door three times loudly “ITS THE POLICE COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!”. No response. I signal to Fox that I was going to go around back and he nods in agreement. As my boots crunch on the dead lives, it smells like more than dead plants back here. No movement. No sound. I carefully climb up the back stairs to peak in the window and I flash my light. Fox startled me “is it me or is too quiet?”. “Yeah, you think bomb?”; Fox shrugs. We decide to make our way towards the front when we hear swat running through the front door. We enter the premise and the rooms are filled with metal barrels & each look like they have two letters on them. I lean to Fox whose wide eyed, “Tell me these are rolling graves”.