One of the things that the U.S Army had taught Cori was that idiots sometimes found themselves amongst their numbers, and most often sported the shiny ranks you had to respect. She was used to working for idiots, and she was used to making them look good while not accepting any of the credit for herself. Yet, if she wanted glories, then Michaels would have picked a different career path. Maybe something as mind-blowing as waitressing or something to do with the arts…<br/><br/>Except she didn’t have a creative bone in her body; violence seemed to be her only muse. And for the life she’s lived, Cori was oddly okay with that.<br/><br/>Somerset was no different than any other officer she wanted to roll her eyes at; he was pudgy, paranoid, and forgot that sometimes simple silence was the best answer. She didn’t understand why he got so worked up for the Feds, but they were considered the guilty pleasure of the police force; no one liked them around in public, but once alone, they wanted to be used and treated like willing whores for the men and women in uniform. For her, they were the Marines; a more elite group of individuals trained to handle those particular situations that needed tact and the right amount of leverage. But that didn’t mean she was pleased to see them making tracks in her field, which only stated that they didn’t think she could do her job properly.<br/><br/>For the first time, Cori Michaels found herself silently agreeing with the Captain. She’d just never admit to it.<br/><br/>She sat at her desk, neck craned to watch the taller man with a placid face like a true stoic, and appeared almost bored as her superior worked himself up into a mild panic, already coming to his conclusion before the jury returned. Inwardly the woman sighed, letting him finish gesturing and talking like an over excited kid witnessing his first car crash, before looking away and back down to the files orderly stacked on her desk.<br/><br/>“He’ll not buy it.” She turned a page, reading it for a couple seconds, analyzing the data and storing it in her memory for later use. Cori made sure to speak up again before Somerset could interrupt or destroy the silence. “Send the sharks in another direction; preferably away from the caves. If you want me to keep an eye on the Devil Bat then one less black SUV parked in the road, the better. Snyder thinks discrete is walking around like a burnt-out porn star and making pelvic thrusts in the direction of anything that has a cunt.”<br/><br/>Cori might lack certain subtleties herself. She was okay with that too.<br/><br/>“Tell them our sources and the evidence is leading us back to the park; the moment you tell them where we’ll be, they’ll try to be there first. Let them wander around and get lost in the dark while the professionals take care of it. We’re too busy to hold their hand in the dark and point out the obvious."<br/><br/>Sighing now, the detective closed the file she was reviewing while tucking it back in the drawer, locking it up tight. She stood next, shrugging back into her shoulder holster and adjusted the straps so that they sat flat and didn’t chafe her skin. Her jacket went over that, and a set of keys were quickly snatched from a dish, stuffed inside her pocket. “I was going to head there anyways.” Which was true; but she had thought stopping by for breakfast first would be a better idea. She couldn't remember the last time she ate; or when she had seen her bed. It was easy to do when there was nothing to greet you at home but blank white walls and expired condiments in the fridge.<br/><br/>"I'll call you if I find anything." Which was a lie, though she highly doubted that he'd see that. Too obvious.