Several years ago

  Undercover operation 363 Lima

  Primary Unit: Castleton PD (Narcotics Division)

  Drug lord Eduard Maldavo's den of drugs, girls, and gambling

  Undercover officer Octavia Patterson presses her tiny red purse against the outside of her thigh. She squeezes past two men with slicked back hair standing near the entrance of the darkened club. One of the men scrutinizes Octavia as she passes by, admiring her barely there black dress. Octavia offers the man of unknown Latin-descent an appreciative stare as well. She will need to get in good with all of Eduard Maldavo's men. Whether she wants to or not. Slick-hair man is actually pretty good looking. Too bad he's in the wrong line of work. Mugshots never do anyone real justice.

  Finding an empty seat, at a table near the dancing stage, Octavia pretends to run a hand through the hair surrounding her left ear. She glances around as she performs the subtle action.

  "I'm in position," Octavia whispers ever so quietly.

  The hidden mic in her ear chatters softly as the team leader confirms Octavia's message has been conveyed. Octavia looks to her left, taking in the faces of everyone around her. A few tables away, much closer to the stage, is a large gentleman Octavia has seen before. One of the few county deputies assigned to provide backup to her drug unit. This particular deputy isn't half-bad looking either. A bit old for her taste, but that mustache. Damn.

  Catching the large deputy's eye, Octavia nods politely. The man offers Octavia a thin smile, but doesn't dare do more than that. Anything out of the ordinary might be observed by Maldavo's men, blowing their entire operation.

  Octavia places her purse on the table and crosses both hands on top of it. Breathing in deeply, Octavia focuses on what she has to do. She is hoping to gain an audience with Eduard Maldavo, the HotPot Club's sordid owner; and perpetrator of crimes against decency and humanity.

  After almost two years of meticulous work, a steady stream of underage girls--from all over the country--has finally been linked to Maldavo's underground paradise of sex, drugs, illegal gambling, and abuse. Most of the slimeball's girls are runaways. Many others were lured into the lifestyle with hopes of making tons of cash; marrying a rich Prince Charming; and owning a one-hundred room mansion with five swimming pools, a recording studio, and a helipad.

  The slimy Maldavo likes his girls young, but he will take any woman with a lot to offer. Somehow, Octavia found herself being voluntold for the part of attempting to make Eduard Maldavo cream his pants. An easier task than one might assume. Or so the stories go.

  Of course, it hadn't taken much coaxing. Octavia absolutely loves going undercover. A chance to live a completely different life for a short time. A chance to make a real difference; outside of the usual confines of the law. Although, the job does have its risks. If Maldavo or one of his numerous henchmen discovers her ploy, she could be seriously hurt. Or killed. Such was the rumored fate of the drug lord's previous girlfriend Charo Nellis. The beautiful young woman simply disappeared two nights after a very public confrontation with Senor Maldavo.

  A lone witness claimed to have seen Maldavo's two favorite toadies beat the poor Charo senseless before shoving her into a black sedan. Her pink stiletto heel washed up on the river bank three weeks later. The lone witness also disappeared. Maldavo was never charged.

  Octavia peers to her left again, watching the big deputy with the dapper mustache. The young woman on the stage has progressed to the portion of her routine which requires removing her top. The large man's eyes narrow, and he struggles not to seem too interested. However, Octavia is able to watch the rapid rise and fall of his broad chest. She smiles inwardly, pretending to look down at the table, while observing the deputy.

  Completely topless, the young woman tosses the bra behind her. A second young woman, barely more dressed than the first, scampers forward and retrieves the abandoned bra. Her colleague will need it again. Retreating back into the darkness, the second woman all but disappears.

  "Hey, Frankie!" A thickly accented latin voice yells over the music and steady yammering.

  Octavia's attention is drawn to a dark corner, several feet behind the large deputy, where two pink painted doors now stand open. Only darkness pours from within. Eduard Maldavo steps into the strobing light, his hair slicked back with more grease than it would take to slick down a porcupine's quills. Dressed in a pink pin-striped suit, shiny black shoes, pink spats, and holding a pink pimp's hat in his right hand; Maldavo looks every bit the eccentric scumbag he is.

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  The greasy drug lord stops walking as a young woman, probably a young girl in actuality, runs up to him. The young woman's thin legs are pressed tightly together, and she wrings her hands frantically, as she talks in a quiet whisper to the club's owner. Octavia notices how the young woman's hand continues to go to her stomach, tears running down her cheeks like rivers. Something important is happening here.

  Octavia has barely reached this conclusion when a loud slap rings out. The drug lord's strike was so quick that Octavia missed it. Eduard's pink hat now lies on the floor, having been released in his fury. The young woman's bony knees knock together as she utters a cry of pain. The left sleeve of her thin, glittery garment slips off of one shoulder and she immediately moves to adjust it. Maldavo uses this as an opportunity to grip her right forearm and yank her to him.

  "What did you just say to me, bitch?!" Eduard roars. "Did I hear you say...What I think you said?!"

  "No, Mr. Maldavo. No. I didn't..."

  "Now...You're lying to me, bitch?! You calling me stupid, now? You think I didn't hear what you just said to me?"

  "I'm sorry," the young woman pleads, shaking her head emphatically. "I'm sorry, Mr. Maldavo."

  "You're sorry? You say you're sorry?!"

  The furious gangster boss shoves the young woman away, causing her to stumble in her high heels. The henchman known as Frankie laughs under his breath and spreads his legs wide apart, arms crossed over his chest. He looks at the scared young woman over the bridge of his once-broken nose. Yes, something important is definitely happening here.

  "Get the fug out of my face, slut! I can't stand looking at you," Maldavo yells. "Go on. Get the fug out! Stupid bitch!"

  The gangster wrings his hand, which is obviously still aching from the slap he administered moments before. The frightened young woman hurries away, glancing furtively over her shoulder.

  "Can you believe the nerve of that bitch? Tells me what she ain't gonna do. Dumb bitch!"

  "I heard, Mr. Maldavo. I heard," Frankie says.

  "Well, I want you to do something about it, Frankie. I want you to do something about it tonight. Take Joey. Get it done. If she doesn't sink...You do!"

  "Yes, Mr. Maldavo," Frankie says.

  Frankie and the flunky named Joey move to obey their drug master's order. Officer Patterson touches the hair near her ear again, making sure her mic is still hidden. Poor girl.

  At the other table, the dapper deputy is no longer mesmerized by the exposed breasts of the topless woman on the stage. He peers in Octavia's direction, his lips tightly drawn together. The older deputy overheard the same conversation. A young life may be about to end. Possibly two.

  Present Day

  Detective Patterson sits up in bed, tired eyes adjusting to the dim lighting in her room. She reaches over and turns on her bedside lamp. Smacking her dry lips, she goes over the events in her dream.

  "Operation 363 Lima? Dave? Was that really Dave? Seriously?"

  Detective Patterson's cellphone rings and she grabs it from edge of the table. A smile explodes onto the detective's face when she observes the phone number displayed on the phone screen.

  "Hi, baby! What's going on?" Octavia says affectionately, grateful for any chance to speak with her hard-headed daughter.

  "I'm fine, Mom. How are you? I heard about the excitement today with the other victim. Is everything good?" Vivian Patterson inquires of her mother in a strained voice.

  "Yes, baby. Everything's fine. She had a little accident and is recovering in the hospital. But, she'll be fine."

  "Good. Well, Mom...I called because. I wanted to say...I love you."

  Detective Patterson stares at the phone display as if she expects Vivian to float out of it. The Mommy Alarms in her head begin going off full tilt.

  "Oh boy. What's going on, Viv?" Octavia says.

  "Nothing, Mom. I...I'm going back on assignment. And I couldn't leave without telling you I love you. I know you hate me working in narcotics. I know you hate me going undercover like this. But, I learned it all from you. You were always my hero growing up. I wanted to be just like you. Strong, fierce...Sexy. I love you, Mom. I just want you to be happy for me."

  "I am happy for you, baby. I am. I just want you to be careful. Your father and I...Our marriage couldn't survive...Nevermind. Just be careful, Vivian."

  "I will, Mom. I promise. Kisses?"

  Octavia pretends to kiss the air next to the phone's microphone.

  "Kisses. Love you."

  "Love you too, Mom. Talk to you soon."

  Vivian disconnects the call. Detective Patterson stares at the phone's screensaver with a saddened expression. The picture saved to the locked screen is one of her and Vivian. The picture was taken right after Vivian graduated from the police academy. A proud day for mother and daughter. For a few years, she'd believed she was losing Vivian. The divorce had been so messy. But in the end, Vivian had seen through the lies.

  Octavia leans back onto the headboard, closing her eyes in weariness. Memories of Operation 363 Lima continue to persist in the drowsy detective's mind long after her head drops onto her right shoulder.