Detective Jackson drove slowly through the street. The black police modded Charger he drove usually had the effect of making people think twice about who was behind the wheel…normal citizen, or badge and gun-toting officer of the law. The power hungry side of him always got a kick out of the subconscious reactions of others around the car. Symbols of authority had a way of making all the right people uneasy, but that was only after enough of them were taught what the symbols were. Everything else just took care of itself.<br/><br/>He took a look at his “partner” to make sure she was okay. He didn’t bother asking, because he didn’t want to tip his friend in the backseat off anymore than he might already be. Some random passerby gave the car the finger, and he flashed the lights once as the car emitted the beginning “Whooop!” of a siren. Mr. Random made sure to keep his knees high as he took off.<em>’That one ran track in school…’</em>he thought idly. His brain was on. Really on. The people crowding all around, in obvious confusion bothered the hell out of him.<br/><br/>He always told uniforms to know their roles whenever they tried to stick their noses in his investigations, and to his credit he was the kind of guy that took his own advice. Authority took many forms, and his form only worked on certain people. People like his friend Dante back there. The uniform’s authority was universal , though it registered with little respect from more hardened criminals, it still had the ability to give a confidence to a person, even when he lacked it. The uniform knew what to do. The uniform could keep them safe.<br/><br/>He was not a uniform. Not anymore. Not for some time.<br/><br/>“So tell me, Dante…” Jackson said as they slowly made headway “Why would the Iceman be coming after you?” The Iceman, Hector Santiago. A drug trafficker that moved crystal meth like it was water in the desert, named the Iceman for his variety of crystal meth “flavors”, not to mention his uncommonly cool demeanor. The guy was slick as shit, no doubt, but if he was coming after Dante and Dante hadn’t a clue, then he must have saw or did something that the Iceman had hard feelings about. Such is the world they lived in. He gave the guy a look in the rear view mirror for a moment during the lull in traffic. He was too intent on noticing the blood faced man mounting the woman, or the uniform that went over to assess the situation.<br/>