Chapter 8: Armstrong's Shadow
Thursday, May 10, 2018 - Morning Roll Call
Officer Doug Armstrong leaned against the wall near the briefing room, coffee in hand, easy smile on his face. Mid-forties, solid build, the look of someone who'd been doing this long enough to be comfortable.
I'd never noticed him before. But I'd been focused on the main cast—the people I knew from the show. Armstrong had been background noise until now.
He caught my eye. Smiled. Walked over.
"Officer Mercer, right? Heard you've got the mansion with the fountain. Nice setup."
My chest tightened immediately. Not danger sense. Lie detection.
His smile was friendly. His words were casual. But underneath—something false. Something wrong. Like listening to music slightly out of tune.
"Thanks." I kept my response neutral.
"Your aunt's the congresswoman, yeah? Rebecca Mercer? Met her at a fundraiser last year. Sharp lady."
"She is."
"You're lucky. Family connections like that? Doors open." His smile widened. Nothing reached his eyes. "Of course, you're out here doing the work anyway. Respect."
The lie detection screamed. Not about specific words. About intent. About the person behind the pleasant facade.
This is Armstrong. Dirty cop. Eventually targets Lopez. Eventually kills Andersen.
"Thanks," I said again. "Appreciate it."
"See you around, boot."
He walked away. I stood frozen, processing.
Captain Zoe Andersen's POV
Armstrong had always been solid. Fifteen years on the force. Good arrest record. No complaints. The kind of officer who kept his head down and did the work.
But Mercer's reaction when Armstrong approached had been odd. The rookie's whole body had gone tense. Defensive posture. Like he'd encountered a threat.
Interesting.
I made a mental note. Probably nothing. But Grey had mentioned watching Mercer closely. The kid's instincts were unusual.
If those instincts said something was wrong with Armstrong, maybe I should pay attention.
Friday Afternoon, May 11, 2018 - Street Patrol
Lopez and I responded to a shoplifting call. Standard day. We wrapped the arrest, processed the paperwork, grabbed coffee from a food truck.
That's when I saw them.
Armstrong and Carlos Rivera. Rivera was low-level muscle for the Varrio Locos, busted last week on weapons charges. They stood outside a bodega, Armstrong's arm around Rivera's shoulders. Too friendly. Too familiar.
Armstrong saw me watching. Waved casually. Like this was normal. Like cops hung out with arrested gang members all the time.
My danger sense pulsed. Low-level warning. Not immediate threat. Just wrongness.
Rivera walked away. Armstrong approached the shop.
"Mercer. How's rotation treating you?"
"Good, sir."
"Sir." He laughed. "I'm not your TO. Doug's fine. You need anything, advice about the job, let me know."
"Thanks, Doug."
He bought coffee and left. The whole interaction lasted thirty seconds.
But my recall captured every detail. The way he'd touched Rivera's shoulder. The tone of his voice—too friendly for someone who'd helped arrest the guy last week. The casual offer of help that felt like something else.
He's dirty. I know it. But I can't prove it.
Friday Night, May 11, 2018 - Ethan's Mansion, Home Office
I created the file on my personal computer. Encrypted. Password-protected. No connection to LAPD servers.
ARMSTRONG, DOUG - OBSERVATIONS
Date: May 10, 2018 - Morning roll call. Initial contact. Lie detection triggered immediately. Surface pleasantness masking something false. No specific dishonest statement, but overall impression of deception. Note: Subject mentioned family connections (Aunt Rebecca). Potential leverage point?
Date: May 11, 2018 - 2:47 PM. Observed Armstrong with Carlos Rivera (Varrio Locos associate, arrested May 3 for weapons possession). Physical contact (arm around shoulders), familiar body language. Too friendly for professional relationship. Rivera walked away when Armstrong saw me watching. Danger sense triggered (low-level) - situation felt wrong but no immediate threat.
I sat back, staring at the screen. The meta-knowledge from the show was already fading—I remembered major plot points but not specifics. Armstrong killed Andersen. Targeted Lopez. But when? How? Season 1 finale? Season 2?
Months away. Maybe half a year. Time to build a case.
The lie detection and danger sense gave me leads. The recall meant I'd never forget a single detail. If Armstrong made mistakes, I'd document them all.
But I couldn't tell anyone. Couldn't explain how I knew. Couldn't reveal I was watching.
This is the line. Jackson gets to live. Andersen gets to live. No matter what it costs.
I added one more line to the file:
OBJECTIVE: Gather evidence of corruption. Prevent harm to officers. Protect Captain Andersen.
Then I closed the laptop and went to bed.
The hunt had begun.
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