The Target

It was a piercingly cold January morning. The precinct lay nearly deserted, the silence broken only by the soft hum of a copier churning out case files Detective AJ was reviewing. He was slated to meet with the public prosecutor that afternoon to relay updates on the investigation. Paperwork was not AJ’s strong suit, he often postponed it until the last possible moment, completing it only under duress from his captain’s persistent reminders. He had spent the entire night preparing to ensure he had everything for Ms. Shaw, the prosecutor he’d meet with later.

Once the files were printed and meticulously organized for Ms. Shaw, AJ slumped over his desk to catch a brief nap — he knew he had earned it. Barely a few minutes into his rest, the phone rang, shattering the stillness of the poorly heated precinct floor. The sharp sound cut through the quiet like a shard of ice, and after a few reluctant rings, he grudgingly picked up the receiver. The voice on the other end was unfamiliar to AJ — a mature and authoritative tone. Still shaking off the remnants of his brief but deep nap, AJ asked what the call was regarding. The caller responded, “Good morning, Deputy Warden Miller from the Roarke Island Penitentiary. Am I speaking with Detective Ash Jackson from the Kurt City Police Department?” AJ replied, “Yes, good morning… yes, this is Detective Jackson. What is this about?”