CHAPTER 2: A NIGHT WITH CAMILLE

Leah parked, arriving home. She walked from the side of a dark gray-blue high-rise building and entered through glass doors. She made her way to the main elevator and pressed its call button.

The elevator opened, and she took it to her floor. She walked to her apartment, placing her thumb on a small black digital pad to unlock the door. Neon and city lights gave her apartment a dim lighting. She tossed her jacket up on a hook and walked through the living room, heading straight to the bedroom.

She efficiently secured her weapons in the safe near her nightstand before stripping off her shirt, jeans, and tactical boots, leaving her in a black sports bra and black boxer briefs. She picked up her phone to double-check for messages, finding none from Sidney, but noticing the new text from Camille: Do you feel like company?

Leah replied, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” I have a lot on my plate, too.

Camille: Yeah, well, we all do... and blowing off steam helps. Remember the last couple of times.

Leah replied: I do…

Camille: Hmm, that sounds like a yes.

Leah responded: Eta (estimated time of arrival)?

The reply was instantaneous: GPS says I’m not far, just ten minutes, and I find Gold.

“Right, the door will be accessible, just scan. See you soon.”

Leah walked to the floor-to-ceiling windows and turned the remote to open the large curtain. She watched the city lights, the calm she was drawn to washing over her. She took a deep, centering breath, pulling out her vape pen.

A soft click at the front door announced Camille’s arrival. Leah turned from the window just as Camille closed the door behind her.

Camille stood there, still in a tight, light-gray NTS shirt. Her expression was serious, her brown eyes scanning Leah.

Leah said nothing, simply returning the gaze.

Camille’s eyes darkened. She shed her tactical belt and hip holster, tossing the gear onto Leah’s desk with a sharp clatter. She quickly pulled her shirt off, revealing a plain white bra, then unzipped her jeans and stepped out of them. Her urgency was palpable.

She walked directly across the room toward Leah. Leah finally moved, meeting Camille halfway, letting the vape pen drop onto the soft rug.

“Hey,” Camille murmured, reaching out and grasping Leah’s shoulders, pulling her close.

Leah responded immediately, her hands finding the small of Camille’s back, pressing their bodies flush against each other. The kiss was immediate, hard, and needed, erasing the day’s tension.

Camille gently pushed Leah back onto the bed. She looked down at Leah, admiring her, the desire in her eyes intense and unfiltered. The pause stretched between them before Camille straddled her and kissed her deeply again, silencing the need for words.

Afterward, Leah lay back, feeling the weight of the day finally lift. She looked over and saw Camille propped up on an elbow, looking at her with a satisfied, soft expression. Leah smirked, and Camille smiled back, a genuine, unguarded smile.

“I need to use the bathroom,” Leah finally whispered, sitting up.

As she washed her hands and returned, she saw Camille sitting on the edge of the bed, already pulling on her jeans.

“You, um… outta here?” Leah asked, disappointed.

“Sigh, yeah, I wanted to stay ahead of things. I have something developing I may need help with later, and... I get to show you I’m not clingy. Make you chase, maybe?”

“I don’t think you’re clingy, Camille.”

“I really want to say I know that, but I don’t. So, before we mess up the night, I’m going to head out. I’ll see you at HQ tomorrow.”

“Okay.”

Camille walked over, planting her lips lightly on Leah’s again, savoring the lingering contact. She pulled back and swiftly finished dressing and buckling her holster. She opened the front door, looking back at Leah. “Bye.”

Leah crawled back into bed, looking at the ceiling, and exhaled, sighing. She rolled over on her side before shutting her eyes and falling asleep.

CHAPTER 3: NEW HAVEN POLICE NTS HEADQUARTERS

The next morning, Leah arrived at the New Haven Law Enforcement Precinct, a looming five-story structure of dark glass. Above the double doors, a large golden sign read New Haven Law Enforcement (Police, Agents, Detectives, and Narcotics Tactics Special Operations Division). Leah stepped into the sleek black elevator, riding it to the seventh floor where her division’s base was located. The doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing a large glass front desk manned by an Agent in a bulky black Teflon bulletproof vest, his eyes glued to the live surveillance feed behind him. She walked around the desk to greet him.

“Hey, Zack.” “Hey, Gold,” he replied, looking up. “Oh, dude, you catch that Sharks game last night?” “No, I was out. Brought in three perps last night.” “Oh… overtime, huh?” She smirked. “Yeah,” she said, continuing down a wide, bright corridor toward glass double doors emblazoned with the large letters NTS Narcotics, Tactics, and Special Operations division.

Opening the doors, she stepped onto an open business floor of cubicles and offices. The strong, familiar scent of coffee and breakfast pastries, mingled with a faint smell of office paper, was comforting. The ringing phones, laughter, and chatter of agents gave her a feeling of belonging. She proceeded to her office, walking past the rows of cubicles where the newer, lower-ranked agents worked. The private offices were reserved for Higher ranks, veterans, and decorated officers; the large corner office, with its floor-to-ceiling windows, belonged to Commander Michael Gold.

She heard a familiar voice near her. “Whoa, hey, you don’t answer texts now?” Leah stopped at the sound of her brother’s voice. Kody Gates was a tall, Black male, very fair-skinned, and slim but notably muscled-bound. He was usually clean-shaven, his jet-black hair cut low in a fade, with waves gracing the crown of his head. The haircut complemented his handsome features and his kind dark brown eyes.

He became an NTS Officer, also following Michael’s path into law enforcement. Michael helped raise Kody as his own after his mother was lost to street violence. Michael found Kody’s hopeful nature as a child to be remarkable. He knew this nature would be helpful to Leah when she was a kid, and he was right. Kody stood waiting for a response. “Kody, sorry. I was out, and I fell asleep pretty fast.” He looked at her with prying eyes.

“So, a fast, simple typing of one letter like ‘K’ or ‘buzz off for your brother’ couldn’t happen?” “Oh, my goddess, ‘Cold’... I need coffee.” He smiled at his nickname, developed in childhood; he was anemic, so he usually got cold quickly. To offset this, he increases his iron intake. He smiled and continued to pry. “Yeah, so… don’t try to play me. I know what’s up. You were either with Dad on one of his missions or maybe… with some chick?

Speaking of, I haven’t seen that stewardess you’ve been seeing in a minute. Leah refused to respond, jousting with her brother. ‘Long distance,’ huh?” “I get it.” She’s probably in Barbados twerking. Kody scoffed, then made a slight jiggling motion with his rear. “I mean, hey, with that job, who wouldn’t?” He smiled, anticipation in his eyes. “So, what happened?” Leah kept walking, attempting to stall. “Really, Lee? You won’t share the details?” She walked into a small cafeteria area, grabbed a white foam cup, poured the coffee to the brim, and finally spoke. “So, you got the email about the big meeting from Dad early this morning?” Kody’s face immediately turned serious and inquisitive. “Yeah, we’re taking out the drug trade… Gravel and all affiliated members?”

“Yeah. He’s mapping it out, and we’re gonna be busy… street sweeping.” Kody smiled widely. “Oh, man, I love scrubbing out the scum.” Leah smirked. “Yeah, scrape it off the street,” she said, her tone slightly amazed. They looked at each other, smiling, and said in the exact same unison: “And trash it.” Kody laughed lightly, holding out his fist. Leah bumped it.

“Let’s go, Lee.” He tossed his arm over her shoulders, and they walked toward the main conference room—a large space with glass doors agents affectionately called the “Shark Tank.” A voice rang out: “Here comes the ‘Golden Gate.’”—the nickname for the sibling duo, amongst the police force. Leah Gold and Kody Gates. “Hey, Ramirez,” Leah responded with a cautious smile. “Sup, sergeant,” Kody replied. Camille Ramirez was a disciplined NTS agent and very dedicated. The first thing most people noticed about Camille was the air of strict, military-bred discipline she carried, a confidence that squared her tall, slim shoulders. Her father, a retired military veteran, instilled a strong work ethic in her, so much so that she became the youngest Sergeant in the division. Her light tan skin and striking, long black hair—usually pulled back into a severe ponytail for work—spoke to her Puerto Rican heritage. Her eyes were always assessing, intelligent, and brown. But they rarely gave anything away. The only soft detail she ever allowed was the tiny gold cross necklace resting on the center of her collarbone, a subtle nod to the faith her father had given her years ago.

She was beautiful, but her beauty was tempered by a toughness that had ultimately proven too rigid for Leah to fully break through. “You guys seem more festive than usual,” Camille said in an easy tone. “Festive?” Kody declared in confusion. A short woman, only five-foot-four, with pale skin, she was heavyset, mostly from muscle. A frosted off-white edgy pixie crop haircut with brown eyes and thick black rectangle-framed reading glasses. She popped her head up from her cubicle.

This was Nicole “Nikki” Corgi, A veteran agent known as the energetic heart of the NTS Division. “What’s this about a festival? Do they have free beer or officer discounts? What’s the tea on this?” Kody laughed. “Hey, Corgi, what’s up with the hardcore discount stuff?” “Pssh, do you like wasting your labor, Gates? Because I don’t. Plus, that one-up feeling you get when you save on something is better than that small accidental dose of gravel I took while undercover two years ago, know what I’m saying!” Corgi chuckled. “Uh, Corgi, there is no festival,” Ramirez said with a dry smirk, correcting her. “I was just messing with Gates and Gold.” Corgi gave Ramirez a puzzled look, shrugging her shoulders. “Well, that’s a total letdown. Oh well, meet you guys in the Tank.” She walked off to the briefing room. “Truly, I like Nikki Corgi. She’s the best person here, always keeps the jokes going in the good and bad times. I envy that,” Leah said.

“Really, Gold?” Ramirez reacted

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. Nodding her head, Leah commented back, “Well, I almost envy it,” giving Ramirez an indifferent look. Ramirez tossed on her jacket and looked at Leah sullenly. “Yeah, well, I haven’t seen you smiling first thing in the morning in a long time, so today’s energy has to lead to something really good.” Looking longingly at Leah, she added, “See you, boys, inside,” and walked past them toward the Shark Tank. Kody looked at Leah with a nosey, goofy expression. Leah sighed, rolling her eyes. “What, Cold? Just ask it.” Almost immediately, Kody asked, like a gossipy teenager, “What is happening between you and Ramirez anyway?” “Oh my gosh, not this again.” “Hey, hey, I’m just saying. Ramirez keeps giving you… unfinished business looks, IF you know what I mean,” He wagged his eyebrows up and down. Leah, confused, turned to Kody. “What?!” He laughed. “I’m just saying, I sense some thirst, little sister.” Giving her brother an exasperated sigh, she murmured, “Can we focus, seriously?” Kody gave his sister a salute, and they walked into the Shark Tank, where over fifty NTS agents had already poured into the large conference room.

Start of Romance chapters(Alyssa)

Gin’s girl bar: Jovial City

Leah followed Ronnie’s invitation to meet her at a women-only bar in Jovial City. As Leah walked, the city was bright with neon lights. She approached a bar with a white light sign: “Gin’s girl.” Two stylized female gender symbols hung beside the name—a pun for a dive bar. This has to be it, she thought to herself.

She entered the bar through a wide glass front door, met many voices, and heard low, upbeat music playing faintly in the background. The bar, set in the middle of the room, was packed but felt comfortable and nice. Leah found Ronnie fairly quickly, sitting at a tall table next to the bar. Ronnie spotted Leah, and excitement rushed onto her face as she waved Leah over.

As she walked over, Leah caught the eyes of several women, and Ronnie noticed, bringing a smile to her face. She hugged Leah, almost engulfing her, as she chuckled. Leah laughed lightly. “Sorry, dude, it’s been a while since we’ve been out.”

Leah sat at the tall table across from Ronnie. “Yeah, it has.” She noticed two cocktail glasses—one empty and the other almost empty. “You didn’t wait up here.”

Ronnie picked up the half-empty glass and, as a woman walked right past their table, her eyes followed her. Ronnie replied, “I was thirsty.”

Leah looked at Ronnie, unamused. “Yeah. So, I gotta talk about it.”

“What, the promotion? Hell, yes! Those bastards owe me. They threw this lame party until Raina spiked some of our drinks.”

Leah’s eyebrows raised in surprise and approval. “Things have changed a lot since High School. Did that cause any problems?”

“Nope. Just loosening a couple of tight asses up a bit. Let’s get you a drink.”

Leah looked at the bar. “Yes.”

Just five feet from the bar, they approached it. The bartender, a short white male with dyed pinkish-red hair, recognized Ronnie as they approached and served them immediately. “Hey, Ronnie, what can I get you boys?”

Leah responded promptly. “Two light beers.”

“Oh, no, add two house shots, Adam. We are celebrating!”

“No problem!” Leah looked at Ronnie, and she placed her hand on Leah’s shoulder. “Pony up. You gotta catch up.”

Adam moved fast but with purpose; they heard the faint clink of bottles, the music and voices swallowing the sounds. He placed glasses of clear liquid in front of them and two opened bottles of beer. “Here you go, my pretty boys.”

“Thanks,” Leah said as they grabbed the drinks. They returned to the table, and Ronnie noticed the attention that Leah was commanding. “You are like the perfect wing man.”

Leah shook her head, smiling. Ronnie continued, sipping her cocktail. “I mean, we both get ‘em, but you tend to make it even easier for me.” Leah dropped her head, smiling as she knew eyes were on her, but pushed doubt away.

“So... cheers!” Leah raised her shot glass, and Ronnie picked up her glass, raising it, touching Leah’s glass. “To me! UP and ‘Cheers’!” The glasses chimed heavily, and they drank from the shot glasses immediately. They smiled, and Leah nodded, enjoying the burn from the alcohol.

“Feels like when we were twenty-three.”

“You remember when you just resurfaced, huh?”

“Yeah, I remember.” Ronnie laughed. “Yeah, yeah.” She looked around and spotted a beautiful woman on the other side of the bar talking with friends. “Oh, you know, Leah, I know that girl will talk to you.”

Leah saw the blonde woman, surrounded by women conversing. She noticed a red-haired woman at the far end of the bar who kept her eyes on Leah periodically as she conversed with another person seated next to her at the bar. The woman smiled at Leah. “I won’t go for the ‘Ronnie type,’ but I’m going to buy that girl in pink a drink.”

“Okay... well, that means I gotta talk to that girl.”

“OK?” Ronnie walked to the bar and was served a shot immediately. As she walked back, she finished the drink and sat down, stumbling. Leah jumped up to help Ronnie.

“Whoa, are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, it’s still all good.”

“Yeah, it is, Ron. How much have you had all day?”

“Hey, don’t be a cop tonight.” Leah gave her a concerned look. “I mean, I had a couple,” Ronnie slurred out. She was leaning over the table. Leah studied Ronnie; her eyes were dilated, and Ronnie’s head struggled to keep steady. It was clear that Ronnie was very intoxicated. Leah rubbed the back of her head.

“Ronnie, can you stand up really quickly?”

“For what?” she said as she stood and began to stumble. Leah caught her, and Ronnie leaned on Leah.

“Okay, so... Let’s change plans. I have to get you home.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not going to leave my very drunk friend alone outside with strangers.”

“Oh, am I drunk?”

“Yeah, just like a little.”

“Oh, no,” she said in disbelief. “Really?”

“Yes, Ronnie. Where are my keys? You can take them, Officer,” and she laughed loudly.

The Art Gallery

Later, Leah dropped Ronnie off at her house on the outskirts of Jovial City. The air was cool and comforting. Leah unzipped her jacket, glanced at the mild clouds in the dark sky, and decided to walk and enjoy the city as neon lights bathed her and lit the streets.

She could hear teenagers playing and skateboarding on a street that was closed for repairs. She continued to walk, and each deep breath felt like a rugged smoothness of a city with grit and so much love that she felt in her heart. The air itself fueled her. She walked fast and light, watching cars zip around the city blocks. She watched people carrying street food and thin briefcases. The many people of New Haven are moving together, and without even noticing, Leah smiled to herself, reciting it in her head.

She entered a bar district downtown, Jovial City. Business workers seemed to stream into the bars, as well as random people seeking R&R from the work week. Slim 3D hologram ads brightly lit up the city as they dangled from the sides of skyscrapers.

She looked at a light-gray brick building with glass floor-to-ceiling windows, with paintings and sculptures on display on its ground floor. In front of the entrance, a black sign read: Open Floor, $16 entry fee, with a free glass of wine. She shrugged her shoulders and said, “Why not?”

She walked up four concrete steps and approached a man with a bushy mustache, wearing a faded rainbow beanie and a black pouch on his hip. “Hey, what’s up. Sixteen bucks, and wine glasses are on the table.”

She gave him $20, and when he started to reach into his waist pouch to make change, Leah stopped him. “Hey, keep it,” she said. He looked up and replied, “Thanks, man.” He then opened the purple curtain, inviting her in.

Leah walked through and saw a table with wine glasses. Many people crowded around it, talking, sipping, and pouring wine. The floor was packed. She looked around and saw portraits of art hanging on every wall. She walked past the art and reached a window. There, she could see the famous statue of the Rebel leader, one she really liked and had viewed many times. City lights reflected and decorated the city. The night was beautiful, and it drew Leah to want a better view.

She looked around, spotted a red elevator, and walked toward it. As she approached, several young adults exited, holding wine glasses and discussing art on the seventh floor. Leah brushed past the group and entered the elevator. She tapped the button for the highest floor, and the doors closed promptly. The elevator chimed loudly when she reached her destination.

She stepped off and met a large sculpture of a shirtless man riding a shark, seemingly charging into battle. Leah squinted, and a look of confusion was on her face. She continued down the hall, passing exhibits, and saw a small, wide floor-to-ceiling window through which she could see so much of the city. She walked right up to the glass, allured by the city. A silver rail was set from the floor in front of the glass, and Leah leaned on it slightly, continuing to enjoy the view.

A feeling of being watched vaguely hit her. She stood up from the rail, scanning her surroundings until she noticed a dark-haired young woman across from her, staring directly at her. The woman’s wavy, loose curls fell to the tops of her shoulders. Her skin glowed with a radiant tan-brown; her rich amber-brown eyes held Leah’s gaze, and a smile formed on her pink lips.

Leah’s eyes met hers, and they stayed on her as she froze, finding her very beautiful. A welcome and intense intrigue, in the form of a pause, occurred between them. The woman folded her arms and walked towards Leah.

“That’s different,” the woman said.

“What?”

“Who goes to an art gallery just to bypass the art for a city view?... I like that,” the woman said. Leah, pausing at the window, turned toward her, drawn in by her presence.

Leah looked briefly at the window and around, attempting to ground herself in the face of the woman’s profound presence. And answered, “The real art is the city.... besides, how would you know I bypassed anything unless you were watching me.”

The young woman smiled at Leah and replied in a joking tone. “Is it watching?... or just noticing,” Leah said nothing. The young woman kept her eyes on Leah’s, fueling intrigue. They shared a grin before the young woman interrupted the silence.

“Well, you can chill, your eyes are pretty like the clouds, but I’m not the stalking type.” Leah’s eyebrows raised, and she smiled, looking away, trying to hide her flattery. “I own this gallery, well, I mean, co-own the lease with a friend.” Leah smiled, reacting to the compliment. The woman pointed out the window. “Were you looking at the statue out there?”

“Most people do,” Leah replied.

The woman continued gazing at Leah, visibly intrigued. “I... asked you.”

“Yeah, I was.”

“Hmm. Sounds like the soul ties to the city?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“You guess?” Playful tone. “You didn’t see any sculptures here that you liked as much.”

Leah responded, “I’m not really into art. I don’t know much about it.”

“Well, the statue out there is pretty serious art, so you do know something... or maybe you just know quality when you see it.” Leah smiled, and the woman smiled and continued. “It’s not really my thing, either.”

Leah looked a little confused, “Then why own a gallery?”

The woman snickered. “Lease. I dabbled in computer graphics in the past. It was more of a stress relief, and I gained a best friend doing it, but my bestie is the gifted artist who is just as gifted at convincing me to co-lease with him in this.”

“I see,” Leah nodded. “So, what is your thing?”

“Computer engineering.”

“You’re a coder.”

“Yes. That’s uh cool.”

“Really…you don’t think it’s boring?”

“No, what you do powers most of the city. It’s practical, invaluable.”

“I don’t run into a lot of wise people these days in this city.”

Leah responded flirtatiously, “I am just well-informed, and I try to notice good quality when I see it.”

The woman smiled. “Okay.... what’s your name?”

“Leah.”

She smiled. “I’m Alyssa.” Leah smiled as they locked eyes.

Alyssa’s phone rang. “Hello.” Faint chatter, Leah could hear, and Alyssa began speaking in Japanese fluently. She turned to the side as she spoke. She took the phone from her ear, covering it with her other hand. “Hey, um, I’m sorry, business...” Alyssa looked at Leah, alluring. “Um, you should come by tomorrow night. More free wine and cocktails will be available, and the moon will be full, so something to complement the view you really like.”

Leah and Alyssa’s eyes kept locked, and a brief pause occurred as they were captivated, feeling an obvious mutual attraction between them. Leah answered as they smiled at each other. “I’d like that.”

“Byyye,” Alyssa said, walking away.

Leah watched Alyssa walk away, subtly admiring her figure. She stood submerged in captivation, her senses caressed by jasmine vanilla perfume that still lingered, even after Alyssa was out of her sight. She looked back at the city briefly and headed for the exit to start her way home.

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Morning and Patrol

Leah’s apartment. The sun is rising, but Leah’s phone chimed loudly, waking her. She rolled over, stopping the alarm. She sat herself up. The neighboring skyscrapers greeted her outside her window, and she was thinking about the woman she met last night. She picked up her phone and texted Ronnie: How is your recovery? She didn’t expect an answer from Ronnie, knowing she would be hungover.

She showered and began her day. She knew she would be on a light patrol. She headed to HQ.

Leah arrived at HQ and proceeded with her normal routine, heading to the lounge, seemingly following the coffee smell. She made a cup of coffee. As she took a sip, her brother found her. “Hey.”

“Hey, Cold.”

“So, you hear about anything on Makoto?”

“No.”

“Yeah, me either. There’s a meeting, though, with Aquino. You get that invite.” Leah pulled out her phone, checked her email, and surely found the meeting. “Yep.”

“Okay, well, early is better than being late.”

They sat in Aquino’s office, waiting. Paul Cripps entered the office and greeted them both. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Kody stood up. “Hey, you tell us.”

“Well, we’ve been working on infiltration for a long time here, and it’s not that easy.”

“Infiltration usually isn’t exactly easy,” Kody responded.

Aquino entered his office and sat down behind his desk. “Alright, so your informant has disappeared?” he asked Paul.

“Yeah, Timothy Lurke. He hasn’t disappeared; he’s backed off and refuses to cooperate. He’d rather go to jail than work against Makoto. Says it’s way too much heat either way, as you all know.”

Aquino showed frustration. “Now the other one, Francisco Cook, he has disappeared shortly after our... uh, major seizures. Do you think he has a reason to disappear?” Aquino asked.

“Things are hot right now, I’m sure, so I’ll wait a bit. Not much else I can do.”

“Okay, anything else you got? I can try to tail some of my others. We need to get... rough here, sir.”

“Well, do it. Twist someone, I don’t care. We need a way in.”

Kody looked around. “What’s going on?”

“We have put so much pressure on Makoto, and we have every dealer scared. It’s a good position, but also can be a disadvantage, Gates.”

Paul agreed, adding, “Yeah, we are going to have to get an informant who’s vulnerable and has no choice but to work with us.”

“Yeah, someone with a family that solely depends on their life or something. They looked surprised. This guy is no joke. Welcome to the real sacrificial Agent work. I called you both in here as an audience, nothing more. When the time comes, waters will get rough,” Aquino says. “If Cripps needs you, he will be the lead Agent. Understood?”

Leah and Kody replied at the same time. “Understood.”

“Dismissed.”

The three of them left the office. “I’ll call you if I need you. I pushed for you two... I trust you guys the most.” He walked off.

Kody reacted. “Hmm, it’s getting real. Hey, let’s roll. Meet me downstairs in ten min.”

“Yep.”

END of PREVIEW

I hope you enjoyed, contact me for more details. Likes, restacks, and love are much appreciated. Leah Gold’s story is completely finished and I also have another sapphic romance book in progress. Be Blessed!

Leah Gold — elite NTS tactical agent, adopted daughter of the Commander, the city’s most dangerous weapon against organized crime.

Alyssa Macoto — beautiful, untouchable, daughter of the city’s kingpin.

One is sworn by law and badge to destroy the other’s world.

But desire doesn’t care about badges, bloodlines, or even bullets.

This is messy. This is intense. This is what happens when duty and obsession collide.

The first 5 chapters are completely free.

After that, we’ll drop twice a week (Tuesdays & Saturdays).

If you love slow-burn sapphic tension that turns explosive, moral gray areas, family legacy, and women who love women without apology… you’re home.

Dive in. Part 1

New Haven -The Leah Gold Story

By Yona Ouranos

CHAPTER 1: WELCOME TO NEW HAVEN

A full moon hung in a clear, crisp sky, lending the air a slight, invigorating chill. Below, the sprawling, luminous canvas of New Haven sat like a precious jewel—a city fought for and rebuilt by activists, refugees, and rebels, all of whom desired a safe place to call home. The skyline was a jagged testament to its history, a thicket of skyscrapers that lorded over office buildings, bustling businesses, vibrant restaurants, high-rise apartments, and quiet homes. Snaking through it all, like illuminated veins, was the subway rail that pumped life and created the city’s pulse, all managed by an unseen AI transport system. The carts—silver and blue, shaped like bullets—moved methodically, with AI-driven speed, transporting the citizens through the city’s metallic heart.

Tonight, one such car was packed to capacity. The air inside was thick with the scent of beer, sweat, and triumph. Citizens dressed in the dark blue and white colors of the New Haven Sharks baseball team—playful, loud, and happily tipsy—celebrated a home team playoff win. At the center of the cart, a man with a sloppy, beer-bellied grin and an unshakable rhythm began to dance, his voice belting out the all-too-familiar Shark’s theme song. Leah scanned the revelers from the far end of the cart, her light gray eyes piercing the chaotic scene. She was the sole rider not joining the boisterous chorus, her reaction a tight-lipped annoyance. She tugged at her collar, adjusting her short, thin, faded black peacoat jacket, pulling it close, her attire a uniform of utility: a plain, tight-fitting navy-blue men’s dress shirt with black buttons.

Black jeans and black tactical boots that covered her ankles. Her light brown hair was severely undercut, shaved high on the sides, with the longer top section slicked back into a tight, perfect bun. The edgy haircut complemented her soft facial features. She was tall and slim, with broad shoulders, carrying the lean, toned muscles of an elite agent. She checked her phone—no notifications—and let out a silent sigh before carefully placing the device into the inner chest pocket of her jacket. The head of the impromptu choir finally surrendered to exhaustion, collapsing into a seat and falling asleep almost instantly.

Laughter rippled through the immediate crowd as they commented on the man’s spectacular intoxication. Leah ran her fingers through her hair, shaking her head, and shot the man a stern, withering look. “Next stop: Fox land Station,” a voice announced over the intercom. The announcement was Leah’s cue. A flicker of satisfaction crossed her face; she was about to escape the rambunctious, celebratory crowd. The screeching brakes of the massive metal rail cart sounded like a dinner bell, causing everyone to stand at attention.

Two chimes followed, and the doors opened. Leah, along with the civilians, spilled out of the carts, pooling onto the platform and down the escalators, where a dizzying sea of ride-share vehicle signs glowed like Christmas lights. She checked her phone at the vibration of a text notification from Commander Michael Gold, the head of law enforcement in New Haven, who also happened to be her father.

Commander: It’s a green light, Agent. ETA 12 mins.

She quickly texts back: En route, four minutes.

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The Old Tire Shop

Leah was heading to an abandoned building, a defunct tire shop, where Commander Gold had set up a meeting. The mission was a trap: Commander Gold, under the guise of an unassuming chemist, hoped to intercept Liam, a disgruntled operative currently pushing the deadly drug Gravel for the notorious street gang leader and the Head supplier Vogel, who created the drug. Liam was looking to break off on his own and needed a chemist to manufacture the drug for his own operation. The Commander’s role was to record an unaware confession from Liam, leaving him with one choice: cooperate as an informant to take down Vogel. The drug had been flooding the city streets for years, responsible for hundreds of deaths and turning the young generation into mindless addicts, or what the locals referred to as “zombies.”

The Commander was on a warpath to eliminate it, and Leah was tasked with ensuring the elaborate sting went off without a hitch. She walked briskly away from the fading lights of the subway, slowing her pace only as she pulled out a very small black vape pen from her jacket pocket, tucking her head down and shoving her hands deep into her pockets—an attempt to blend in on her part. The designated meeting spot, an old tire shop, was bordered by a metal fence. The red rust on the roll-up doors testified to its long closure.

As she moved to the left side of the building, she spotted lights inside, a lone yellow Mustang parked nearby, and something unexpected: a man in a charcoal gray hoodie peering into one of the shop’s grimy windows. She quickly texted her father.

Leah: Arrived—we got a perp in a dark grey hoodie outside? Expecting anyone else? The reply was immediate.

Commander: No clue who the guy is—keep an eye on him—don’t let him interrupt this meeting—going in now. Be ready to go when I give the signal.

She followed the hooded man as he began walking toward the back of the shop. She scaled the 7-foot rusty metal fence almost effortlessly, dropping silently onto the other side. She took cover behind a rusted-out car, watching the man pull a large Mac-10 from the front of his waistband. She silently shook her head at the weapon choice. “What a poor choice, that gun is an inaccurate brick.”

He was not one of Liam’s; more likely an opposing gang member coming to steal a drug haul or settle a turf dispute. The hooded man glanced nervously at his phone and then pocketed it. He reached the back door and hit the rusted door lock with the butt of his gun; the weak mechanism immediately fell apart along with the rusted chain attached to it, granting him access. Leah kept her distance short. Her hand smoothly dipped inside her jacket, drawing the black .40 caliber handgun from her shoulder holster.

The weapon’s ejection port, a dark oily gold, glinted under the moonlight. She held it low and in front of her. She had to intercept this man before he could crash the meeting

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Intervention

The man removed his hoodie, revealing a crooked smile. He kept his gun low to his side and entered the rear of the building where the meeting was scheduled. Leah sprang into action, determined to lure him back outside. She found a heavy chain and began repeatedly striking it against the metal door.

CLANG CLANG.

The perp froze in place. Annoyed that he’d been pulled away from his objective of “popping” Liam, he immediately turned and headed back toward the sound’s source. Leah hid behind the exterior door, chain in hand, timing her move perfectly. The man stopped at the sight of the large chain weaving across the floor, his eyes following it silently until it disappeared behind the door. He approached the threshold— “FREEZE—NTS. Don’t move.” Leah appeared, her handgun raised and pointed at the man’s center mass. The hooded man put his hands up but kept his tight grip on the Mac-10.

“Drop the crap gun.” Rolling his eyes, the man froze, letting the weapon drop to the floor. “Hands on your head and get on the ground,” Leah commanded. Feigning a fall to his knees, he swiftly reached into his front hoodie pocket, pulling out a short knife, and sprang back to his feet. Leah, anticipating the move, met the side of his head with the butt of her gun. He collapsed, instantly unconscious, before he could register what had happened. Leah shook her head, quickly applying the handcuffs, wondering about his vendetta.

She then jogged back into the building, toward the lobby. Taking a deep breath, the scent of mildew and old rubber filled her lungs. She quietly approached a large, dusty area, spotting three men talking in front of a black four-door coupe, its trunk open. She inched closer, listening intently for Commander Gold’s distress signal. Leah heard the familiar voice of Commander Gold, and a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding escaped her. Posing as a chemist, Michael Gold was every bit the seasoned operative.

He was a man built for authority and gravitas. Standing at six-foot-one, his broad shoulders filled the off-white dress shirt he wore. His thick, dark brown hair was cut in a sharp Ivy League style, though it was threaded with the undeniable signs of stress and time: several prominent gray hairs. This silvering was echoed in his thick goatee, a striking salt-and-pepper color that framed his olive-pale face. Beneath a brow that often seemed furrowed in thought, his dark eyes possessed an intense, unyielding quality—eyes that could truly pierce steel.

Sticking firmly to his persona, he wore Khaki pants and thick white reading glasses, which he kept nervously adjusting while speaking, demonstrating light nervous ticks expected of any civilian approaching a member of Vogel's gang. “Listen, I’m a chemist,” Michael said, his voice carrying slightly. “Learned this skill not in school, and honestly, I’m looking to make more than just my ends meet. Can’t do that with Makoto and those psycho jerks he calls his employees, claiming all the territory.” Liam scoffed. “Yeah, we see eye to eye. The Shark King Makoto is getting old fast, and we are sick of him thinking he rules every damn thing in this city.”

His partner snickered, nodding in agreement. “But you show up with just a couple of units. You talk well, but this endeavor will only make you rich if you do what I say.” Michael paused, adjusting his reading glasses slightly. “Yeah, of course. I get it.” Liam looked at his partner, who shook his head. “What does that mean?” Michael asked. Liam gave him a stern look.

“Where’s the rest of the stuff? We agreed on 20 bricks, and you bring half.” Michael feigned nervousness. “Uhm, yeah, because I thought 10 units of the most potent Gravel was a safe bet for a start.” The two men began to laugh. “I mean, how else do I secure my safety?” Michael asked.

“You are safe as long as you cook the stuff for me. This city will be under my control, including you,” Liam answered confidently. Liam’s partner, impatient, pulled out a large combat-style knife, suggesting Michael needed to cooperate now. Michael gave the distress signal. A phase that alerted Leah to come out and make an arrest. “Easy, fellas, this isn’t a rodeo.” Leah entered with her gun pointed directly at Liam’s partner. “Okay, boys, play time is over,” Michael said confidently.

“Drop your weapon and get on the ground,” Leah commanded. Michael exclaimed, “NTS, do what she says, she doesn’t miss,” as he pulled his own gun, pointing it at Liam. He then revealed a shiny Gold New Haven Police Department NTS badge. Both men, shocked by the sudden turn of events, reluctantly dropped to their knees. “Ambitious and stupid,” Michael said, placing handcuffs on Liam. Liam’s cocky attitude instantly curdled into anger. “Ugh, trovenist pigs,” he growled. Michael pulled Liam to his feet, yanking the cuffs. He smiled, dragging him toward the coupe. “Well, everybody loves bacon. Besides, you should count yourself lucky. Now you get to work for me.” Liam scoffed. “I work for no one.” Michael’s eyes squinted. “Is that right? Well, let’s see how you feel after forty-eight hours in lockup.” Michael opened the rear passenger door and shoved Liam into the car. “I’ll give you a choice: either help me chop down the Mako gang, which you claimed to hate, or rot in jail.” Liam turned to look at Michael, his face a mix of anger and sour resignation, and stayed silent.

Michael slammed the car door shut in his face. He walked towards Leah as she had finished securing the other two perps in the back of the backup cruiser that had just arrived to book them down at the station. Michael placed both his hands firmly on her shoulders. “Thanks, kid, you are so damn fast, you did well, as usual... You alright?”

“Yeah, Dad, I’m good. I should’ve gotten here sooner.” He patted her shoulders lightly. “Hey, you got here on time, you took out 2 threats, and we got our man, that’s getting it done.” Not realizing how jarring it still was to Leah to see someone pull a gun on the only parent she had. Even though their job puts them in danger daily, this was still difficult for her.

He reached into his pocket for his phone. “I have preparations for this guy. You call this in before they reach the station. And rest up. I want you back in the office first thing in the morning.” Leah, taking the phone from her father, gave him a look of feigned surprise that softened into a genuine smile. “Alright, are you finally gonna let the ‘troops’ in on this Gravel project?” Michael Gold raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Uh… yes. That is the plan.” Leah quickly began dialing the base. “Okay, I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

End of Chapter

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