Chapter 59 – "Final Test"
Mid-Wilshire Division – Advanced Training Room | 07:00
The fluorescent light in the room reflected off the carefully aligned metal desks. Sealed papers, standardized blue pens, a white board with the recruits' names and a sentence written in firm letters:
"Final Theoretical Assessment – LAPD"
The silence in the room was heavy, broken only by the sound of boots hitting the polished floor and the nervous breathing of some recruits. For many, this would be the turning point: the test that would confirm whether or not they were ready to continue on the streets in the uniform of the Los Angeles police.
Gustavo was already seated, his badge pinned to his chest, his posture erect. He was wearing the navy blue LAPD t-shirt and impeccable black tactical pants. His brown, attentive eyes examined the environment around him with a calm that contrasted with the growing tension.
Angela appeared in the doorway a few minutes later, along with Bradford and Talia, who had gathered in the back of the room to observe. This morning wasn't just for the rookies it was also a chance for the trainers to assess how their recruits were doing.
Angela crossed her arms, watching Gustavo with a small smile.
"I'll bet my lunch he'll get the highest score in the class," she whispered to Bradford.
"You've said that in the last three evaluations," Tim replied, narrowing his eyes. "And he lost all three. Do you want to lose again?"
Angela smiled confidently.
"I'll double the bet this time."
7:15 AM – Start of the Test
The door closed with a click. The lieutenant in charge of the evaluation, a serious, angular-faced man named Lieutenant Corbin, walked to the front of the room.
"Good morning, officers in training," he began firmly. — "Today you will take the theoretical assessment that covers: patrol procedures, progressive use of force, state penal code, civil rights, crisis interventions and administrative reports."
He paused, then added:
— "The minimum score to pass is 80. Those who score below that will be reevaluated. Those who do not reach 70... will be dismissed from the program."
The murmurs subsided. Gustavo took a deep breath, unfazed.
07:30 – During the Test
Gustavo read each question carefully. The test was more than a set of objective questions: it required critical analysis, legal understanding and application of situational judgment. He held the pen firmly, his handwriting clean and precise, as if each word had a calculated weight.
Question 17: "While on patrol, you witness another officer using excessive lethal force against an unarmed suspect. How do you proceed according to LAPD protocol?"
Gustavo scribbled without hesitation:
"Immediate intervention to stop the officer's action, protection of the suspect, formal report to internal affairs, and preservation of evidence. Article 3.7 of the LAPD Code of Conduct. Failure to intervene constitutes gross negligence."
In the back of the room, Angela watched. Tim approached with a clipboard, assessing the overall performance.
"Everyone is nervous... except Silva."
"He was born ready," Angela said.
"No. He prepared for this. The difference is that he never let his ego get in the way of the process."
8:45 AM – Tests Handed Out
One by one, the recruits handed in their test booklets. Gustavo was one of the first to finish, but he remained seated, rereading each answer in detail. He only stood up when there were five minutes left.
He handed the booklet to Lieutenant Corbin with a respectful nod. The lieutenant raised an eyebrow.
— "Officer Silva, you finished quickly."
— "I reviewed it three times, sir."
— "Confident?"
— "Ready, sir."
Corbin nodded. He picked up the notebook and placed it on top of the others, marking a red label in the corner.
9:30 AM – Grading
In the next room, the lieutenants were grading the tests with a team of instructors. The grades appeared on spreadsheets, and Gustavo's quickly caught attention.
— "Silva... ninety-nine point three." — one of the instructors muttered.
Corbin looked up, surprised.
— "That's almost perfect."
— "His writing is technical, but extremely human. He describes situations clearly and always puts civilian welfare first. That's rare in officers with legal training, who tend to stick to the text of the law."
Bradford, who was watching through the window, commented to Sergeant Grey:
— "The kid is a prodigy, seriously."
Grey just crossed his arms.
— "He's more than that. He's an example. I just hope the system doesn't break him."
10:15 AM – Results
Back in the classroom, the recruits were called one by one. The atmosphere was tense. Many held their breath as their names were called.
— "Officer Silva." — Lieutenant Corbin called.
Gustavo stood up. He marched to the front of the room, erect, confident, but without arrogance.
Corbin looked directly at him.
— "Best grade of the day. Almost perfect. Your test will be used as a model for future classes."
There was a murmur of surprise in the room. Talia smiled, quietly proud. Bradford nodded in approval. Angela clapped her hands once, firmly.
Corbin held out his hand.
"Congratulations, officer."
"Thank you, sir."
"Return to your seat."
As Gustavo walked back, he received a few admiring and even a few envious looks. But he kept his head down, modest. When he sat down, Angela came over and whispered,
"I owe you two lunches."
He laughed lightly.
"You better start saving, Lopez."
11:00 AM – Break in the Police Station Cafeteria
The group gathered in the police station cafeteria. The mood was now light, relieved. Most of the rest had passed. Gustavo, sitting with Lopez, Bradford and Talia, ate a simple sandwich, laughing at the group's stories.
— "Okay, but seriously..." — Talia said. — "How do you remember every article in the manual as if it were a song you memorized yesterday?"
— "I don't memorize. I understand. When you live the situations you study, they become memories, not just information."
Bradford shook his head.
— "Man... you should be teaching at the academy."
Angela added:
— "He's already teaching. He just hasn't realized it yet."
Gustavo was silent for a second. He observed his friends, the environment, the coat of arms on his uniform. Then he smiled.
— "There's no place I'd rather be."
Chapter 60 – "Shadows of the Past"
Mid-Wilshire Police Station – Captain Zoe Anderson's Office
3:17 p.m.
The afternoon sun streamed through the half-open blinds of Captain Zoe Anderson's office, drawing golden streaks across the dark wood desk and the metal LAPD insignia pinned to the back of her chair. The room was silent, and for the first time in weeks, there were no shouts over the radio or the incessant buzz of reports popping up on the system.
Zoe stared at her computer screen. But her eyes were blank, fixed on something far beyond the monitor. A notification flashed in the corner: "Gustavo Silva – Completed: Theory Assessment – Grade: 99.3."
She clicked, closed the tab, and took a deep breath.
The door knocked softly. Two precise knocks.
"Come in."
Gustavo entered with his usual composure. Impeccable uniform, shining boots, attentive, respectful gaze. He always seemed to be "on duty," even when he wasn't.
— "Did you ask to see me, Captain?"
Zoe nodded and indicated the chair in front of her.
— "Sit down, Silva."
He obeyed without saying anything else, sitting up straight, hands on his knees. The silence remained for a few seconds, until Zoe picked up a small black folder and placed it on the table.
— "What we're going to discuss here does not leave this room."
— "Understood, ma'am." — he replied, without hesitation.
She studied the young police officer's face for a moment. It was hard to believe that this 23-year-old boy had already passed through so many important institutions, that he used titles like Master of Law and had a security clearance granted by the Department of Defense. But more than that, Zoe saw in Gustavo something rarer: a sense of responsibility.
— "You know, before I took command of Mid-Wilshire, I worked at the Pentagon for two years. I was the liaison officer between the DOD and the Department of Justice, especially on sensitive issues regarding veterans, intelligence smuggling, and insider threats."
Gustavo nodded, interested.
— "I heard about that, Captain. And I also know that you were one of the first women to command an operations team in the Marine Corps."
Zoe smirked.
— "You did your homework."
— "Yes, ma'am."
She opened the folder and turned it toward him. Inside were grainy black-and-white photos, maps with red markings, and most importantly, a file with the Pentagon seal partially covered by a confidentiality label.
Gustavo examined the documents cautiously, only with his eyes. His fingers remained firmly in his lap.
— "May I?"
Zoe nodded. He pulled out the file slowly.
"This man," she said, pointing to the photo of a white man with short gray hair and a dark suit. "Retired Colonel William R. Hanes. He served in Special Operations Command and later worked in private consulting related to security contracts in conflict zones."
Gustavo immediately frowned.
"I know the name. He was mentioned in internal DoD reports as a possible link to third-party paramilitary groups. He was never indicted, but... he was a constant shadow."
Zoe nodded gravely.
"I received information that he is in Los Angeles. And most worryingly: he did not come for pleasure."
Gustavo leaned back slightly in his chair.
"And you want to know what he is doing here."
"Not only that," Zoe said, looking directly at him. — "I want you to help me confirm this information. Your contacts in the Department of Defense, possibly even in the security area of SWAT or JSOC, may know if someone has opened doors for him here."
Gustavo took a deep breath.
— "With all due respect, ma'am, this is... sensitive. If this man is really here and is involved in something illegal, perhaps it would be best for the FBI to take over."
Zoe kept her eyes on his.
— "And what do you think they're going to do with this? Shelve it. Hanes knows everyone. I've seen it happen up close."
— "Then why trust me?"
Zoe hesitated for a second.
— "Because you haven't been contaminated yet."
The sentence hung between them like smoke.
Gustavo looked down at the file and then back at her.
— "I can try, ma'am. But I'll need access to the DoD's internal terminal. At least to cross-reference some data and confirm recent logistical movements."
— "I can authorize this through the police's internal channel, as long as you don't leave any direct traces."
— "And I'll need to speak to a contact at Langley. He might know if Hanes has been on contracts with any agency in the last six months."
Zoe couldn't hide her surprise.
— "Do you have contacts at the CIA?"
Gustavo smiled, shrugging.
— "Let's just say I made some friends in the right places."
Zoe stood up, walked to the window, and pulled back the blinds. The city stretched out before her alive, chaotic, and vulnerable at the same time.
— "I'm not doing this out of paranoia, Silva. I'm doing it because I know the kind of man Hanes is. And if he's up to something here, we need to find out before it's too late."
Gustavo closed the file and pushed it back to her.
"I'll help you, Captain. But if this gets ugly, we need to involve someone on the inside. I trust you, but if his name comes up in any major investigation, it could put your career at risk."
She looked at him seriously. "I don't care about my career. I care about people. And if Hanes is here, people are going to get hurt."
Gustavo nodded, standing up. "I'll start working on it tonight. As soon as I have something, I'll bring it to you."
Zoe held out her hand. "Thank you, Silva."
He squeezed her hand firmly. "We're in this together."
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