“Would you look at this shit?” Tom said.

Sam turned around, the cigarette still in his mouth, to look at what Tom had nodded at. A line of shady Fed-types were baring down on the cordon. All he could do was watch as Albright confronted them, but their badges sure were shiny and official. Almost immediately, one of the guys went upstairs, two of them went straight for the receptionist, two hung back by the stairway to the parking garage. They were all directed by some older guy before he and another hopped in a Sonata and took off. All happened in about a minute, but almost right after Detective Wilson left to the parking garage, the two rougher looking guys went after him. Feds or not, he didn't like the fact they were digging their noses into PD business. “Come on.” He waved Tom with him as he stepped up beside Albright.

“Detective? You know who these guys are?” Tom asked.

“No. Homeland Security Investigators looking for narco gang shit. Bound to be involved one of these days, just make sure they don't stir up any more shit, please?” She said, rubbing at her temple with a cigarette pinched between fore and middle fingers.

“Sure.” He said, nodding for Sam to follow him. It wasn't long before they found one of the big guys at the bottom. One told a joke that he could've swore he heard Packard tell him last night at the bar. The bigger one panicked when they saw him and Tom, and practically begged him not to tell whoever that older guy was that left with the guy in the tracksuit. It looked innocent enough, sure, but you don't reach detective by turning tail at the first sight of something being unsuspecting. He nodded his head and pulled out his own pack of cigarettes, sticking one between his lips and offering one for Sam.

“Sure, sure. I know how it goes. Everyone else gets to walk in with swinging dicks and flashing badges while you get stuck with watch-duty.” He smiled, “Trust me, I know. So, you guys're Homeland Security?”

He tried to make it look non-chalant when he scanned left and right to see if he spotted the older guy. No luck. He drew from his cigarette and savored it, blowing it straight up so it didn't waft in anyone's face. "What's, uh, what's Immigration and Customs doing with this Jimenez case?"