[A few days later][Nine-Nine Precinct – Briefing Room]
Terry stood at the front of the room, holding a stack of folders like a man distributing the world's least exciting birthday gifts. The whiteboard behind him was filled with case numbers, mugshots, and sticky notes that read things like "DO NOT LOSE THIS FILE AGAIN – LOOKING AT YOU, PERALTA."
"Alright, squad. Listen up," Terry said. "We've got new cases from Major Crimes and the precinct rotation. Let's get through these quick so we can hit the ground running."
He handed the first file to Rosa. "Diaz, you got the triple homicide on that private yacht docked at Pier 91. Three victims, all tied to a high-end poker ring. CSU says the scene's a mess."
Rosa took the file without flinching. "How messy?"
"Someone chopped off their limbs and left them there," Terry replied with a slight shiver. "Poor guys bled to death."
"Bloody mess," Rosa gave a nod as she opened the file. "Perfect."
Next, Terry turned to Boyle. "Boyle, you've got the car arson case from 5th Avenue. Someone's been torching luxury rides. Fire Marshal says it's intentional."
Boyle's eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas. "Arson and intentional? Oh, it's like the crème brûlée of crime scenes!"
Everyone just stared.
Jake muttered, "Pretty sure that's not how metaphors work, buddy."
He moved down the row and handed a folder to Amy. "Santiago, you've got the library stabbing. Victim survived. Witnesses say the attacker was arguing with her over a missing rare book."
Amy's eyes widened. "A stabbing over a rare book? This is awesome... Ahem! I mean, it's truly horrifying, Sarg... and also weirdly intriguing."
Gina, who was half paying attention while scrolling through her phone, muttered, "Only you would find a murder bibliographically stimulating."
Amy ignored her. "Don't worry, Sarge, I'll get every detail alphabetized and filed by the end of the day."
Terry nodded approvingly. "Good. That's what I like to hear."
He looked around the table, then started handing smaller files to the uniformed officers. "Johnson, you've got the break-in at the hardware store. Lillian, noise complaint at that weird karaoke bar again. Chen, the stolen delivery truck case. Ray, go to the 15th Avenue shelter and get Karl. He missed his community parole. This is his third time." He handed the remaining files.
When the last file was gone, Jake raised his hand. "Excuse me, Serge. You seem to have forgotten one very important detective who just so happens to be the heart and soul of this precinct. The best detective of Nine Nine." He pointed at himself with a large grin.
Terry sighed. "Nope, didn't skip anyone."
Jake frowned. "Then where's my case? My brain needs action. I thrive on adrenaline. You can't just cage this wild stallion, Terry."
Terry crossed his arms. "Peralta, you still haven't closed the 34th Street pizzeria robbery. Until you do, no new case."
Jake froze. "Wait. You mean... I'm benched?"
Terry nodded. "You're benched."
Jake clutched his chest dramatically. "You can't bench greatness! That case is practically solved! I just need, like, one more lead. Maybe two. Or seven."
Rosa smirked. "You mean the case where the suspect wore a pizza box as a mask?"
Jake pointed at her. "Hey, innovation should be admired, not mocked."
Boyle leaned in, whispering loudly. "You spent three days interrogating a pizza delivery guy because you 'had a feeling.'"
Jake snapped his fingers. "Exactly! And you know what that feeling was called, Boyle? Detective instinct."
Terry groaned. "It was gas. You drank expired milk, God knows how long that bottle had been sitting in your drawer, and ate five slices of pepperoni before the stakeout. And then you caught the wrong guy. He was the manager, Jake."
The squad laughed.
Jake threw up his hands. "Fine. I'll close it. I'll solve it so hard that you'll be begging me to take another case."
Amy smirked. "Statistically speaking, the odds of you solving it today are about the same as Captain Holt laughing at a pun."
As if summoned, Captain Holt stepped into the room. "Good morning, detectives." He was about to say something but...
Jake turned immediately. "Captain! Great timing. Quick question—would you say that my progress on the pizzeria case has been... extra cheesy?"
Holt stared at him for a long, silent second. "That was not even remotely clever."
Jake grinned. "So you did get it."
Holt blinked. "Unfortunately."
Terry clapped his hands. "Alright, briefing over! Everyone get to work. Except you, Peralta. You're on pizza duty until that case is closed."
Jake sighed, dramatically slumping into his chair. "This is discrimination against pizza-loving heroes."
"Amy and Ray, in my office," Holt said before walking out.
...
[Holt's Office – Minutes Later]
Captain Holt sat behind his desk, hands folded, the blinds closed. Amy and Ray stood across from him. The atmosphere felt heavier than usual, the kind of air that said: classified.
Holt broke the silence. "This briefing does not leave this room. The case has come directly from the commissioner himself."
Amy's eyes widened. "Sir, you can count on me. My lips are sealed. My mind is focused. My binder is ready."
Ray tilted his head. "She actually carries a binder for secret missions?"
"She carries a binder for brunch," Holt replied flatly, before continuing. "This assignment requires precision and discretion. The commissioner wants it solved before either the FBI or the CIA catches wind of it."
Amy's excitement was barely contained. "Understood, Captain. You can completely trust me to handle this case. Whatever it is, I'll crack it."
Holt opened a folder and slid a few photographs across the desk. The first showed a man in an expensive suit with a face that screamed danger and money. The second, a woman in sunglasses with a sharp, unreadable smile.
"Travis Ortega," Holt said. "Mexican cartel leader. His wife, Melissa Ortega. They arrived in Brooklyn two days ago and are currently staying at Hotel Brooklyn Bridge."
Amy leaned closer, studying the pictures. "Why Brooklyn? Cartel leaders don't exactly come here for sightseeing."
"Precisely. The commissioner believes they're here for a private deal, but we don't know with whom," Holt said. "We need to find out who he's meeting and what's being exchanged. Your mission is to locate their suite, plant a listening device, and gather intel without raising suspicion."
Ray nodded slowly. "So, basically, we're going undercover in a five-star hotel."
"Correct," Holt said. "You'll check in as a couple and remain in close proximity to Travis's suite."
Amy blinked. "Wait. A couple?"
"Yes," Holt said. "A romantic couple."
Amy's composure faltered for half a second. "I'm sorry—what?"
"You and Officer White will pose as a couple," Holt said, unbothered. "There is a couple's event that will take place in that hotel this weekend, and we believe the deal will go down during that event. So, you two being a couple provides the perfect cover."
Amy looked at Ray, then back at Holt. "Sir, not to question your judgment, but… wouldn't it make more sense for Rosa and Ray to work together? You know, since they're an actual couple and won't have to fake anything?"
Holt shook his head. "Under normal circumstances, yes. But this mission involves more than stealth. Travis Ortega conducts all of his exchanges using intricate puzzle boxes that contain encrypted drives or documents. Each box has a built-in self-detonation mechanism triggered by a single incorrect attempt. We need someone who can solve complex logic sequences and handle delicate mechanisms."
Amy straightened, eyes wide. "You mean… puzzle boxes? Mechanical encryption with booby traps? That's basically my dream case!" She was so excited that if Holt wasn't there, she would have done her signature dork dance.
Ray muttered under his breath, "Her dream is a bomb puzzle. Figures."
Holt continued. "Detective Santiago, your analytical skills make you the most qualified person in this precinct to handle that element. Rosa's skills are formidable, but she is not known for… patience. She might smash the box in anger... in the process, killing herself and everyone around her."
Amy nodded quickly. "That's fair. Very fair. She once broke a vending machine because it ate her dollar."
Ray smirked. "And then made it spit out ten Snickers."
Holt gave them both a look. "Focus. You'll depart tonight. I've already arranged your cover identities. You'll check in as Mr. and Mrs. Lasker. Married for two years. You're celebrating your anniversary."
Amy's mouth opened slightly. "An anniversary? Oh. Oh wow. Okay. I can do that. I can pretend to be married. To Ray." She looked at him, then quickly added, "For work. Strictly professional marriage."
Ray shook his head. "Good to know."
Holt slid a small case across the table. "Inside, you'll find the listening devices, encrypted phones, and micro-cameras. Do not engage Travis or Melissa directly. If they suspect you, this mission is compromised."
Amy nodded crisply. "Yes, sir."
Ray picked up the case. "Undercover marriage in a luxury hotel. Sounds easy enough."
...
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[24 advance chs] [No double billing.]
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