Saguenay Suburbs 12:55 AM

Carilas Laberge, Chief Inspector of the Saguenay Police Department, languidly chewed on a bite of his delicious, home-cooked dinner, savoring the sweet and savory combination of the steaming, whole-roasted sweet potato stuffed with a variety of sautéed vegetables, black beans, shredded chicken, and melted Colby-jack cheese.

He loved to cook- it was one of his favorite hobbies. Aside from completing those Sherlock Holmes Consulting Detective board game puzzles without using website-provided clues.

But cooking, cooking was his passion outside of work.

And he was currently incredibly satisfied with the result of tonight’s effort- he’d initially been extremely worried because he hadn’t had a chance to practice his beloved craft over the past four months due to one emergency after another.

But when he’d finally opened that oven and was enveloped with the pleasant, sweet-smelling aroma and saw the potato’s crisp, caramelized exterior and later tasted that soft and slightly stringy inside mixed with his favorite trimmings, he learned that cooking was surprisingly like riding a bike: you never really forgot how to do it.

He was about to fork a piece of glistening, cheese-topped chicken into his mouth when his work phone suddenly started obnoxiously vibrating against the marbled-granite, kitchen island counter-top.

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes flashing with interest as he slowly placed the fork against the side of his plate and wiped his mouth with a napkin before pushing back from the rustic, polished-wood dining table.

‘At this hour, huh...’

Crossing through his well-furnished living room, he entered the kitchen and opened a lower cabinet beneath the sink, tossing the napkin in the trash before snagging the cellphone off the counter-top and sliding the answer button and putting it up to his ear.

“Laberge,” he gruffly answered.

His expression gradually changed from mild curiosity, to confusion, and then settled on an amalgam of concern, stress, and exhaustion.

“Got it, thanks.” He hung up, his gaze distant as he placed the phone onto the counter and turned around, leaning his lower back against the kitchen island and slowly running a hand through his short-cropped, salt-and-pepper hair. He then pulled a bar stool out from beneath the countertop and slid onto it with a grunt, leaning his elbows back onto the island's countertop and placing his feet on the barstool's foot rests. He watched the electric fireplace crackle and dance with a thousand-yard stare. One minute passed before his expression hardened to that of a seasoned officer. He hopped off the bar stool and strode toward his garage, snagging his winter coat off the hanger beside his garage door and fishing his car keys out of the coat's pocket before flinging the garment over his shoulder and shoving his right arm through a sleeve.

The garage door opened, then slammed shut.

The muffled sounds of a car starting mingling with the mechanical rumbling of a garage door opening.

Tires squeaking across a clean garage floor.

A delicious, uneaten dinner sat on the dinner table. Slowly getting colder.

The Centre Hospitalier de Chêne Rouge was surrounded with a dim glow of flashing blue and red lights. The colors washed-out and struggling due to the intense snowstorm passing through the city. Constables in thick, regulation parkas stood in groups of up to three on all available walking paths leading to the hospital or watching the entrances and exit points at a distance. Some animatedly spoke to one another as they strode between vehicles, or directed information into their shoulder-radios as they coordinated roadblocks and detours for early-morning commuters. Police cruisers blockaded every street.

At the front, over-hang covered ambulance drive-in section of the hospital's main entrance was a group of parked police cruisers, angled to prevent any cars from exiting the above-ground employee parking lot. And outside the cars was a small gathering of police officers, standing in a semi-circle around a middle-aged, severe-looking policewoman.

“At around 12:45 AM we received an anonymous tip about a drug-related homicide in the parking lot of the medical center behind me." The woman was shouting to be heard over the wind.

"We naturally traced the call to a landline outside of the Parc de la Rivière-du-Moulin. We’ve got a cruiser heading over there now but I doubt we’ll really find anything- which is why we’re here.” She motioned back with her shoulder, hands clasped behind her back.

“In this weather?” drawled Alexandre Normandeau, a burly, muscled man with a full dark-brown, grizzled-beard and close-cropped hair- his thumbs hooked beneath the chest rig of his ballistic vest.

The lieutenant tipped her head, “Correct. It's questionable as all hell, and thankfully our live call taker saw the oddity of the situation. However, it was reported that the line was immediately dropped following the tip-off. We couldn't ask any follow-ups."

The four other officers all looked at one another. They could tell what the others were thinking. The lieutenant acknowledged this.

"I'm aware of how this sounds. But we wouldn't have dragged nearly the entire precinct out here if there wasn't cause. Specifically- two minutes after the anonymous call was dropped, we received over four noise-complaints from verified addresses one street south of the hospital.”

“Gunshots?” Arielle Banville a short, athletic woman with dirty-blonde hair in a tight bun questioningly shouted.

“Suspected gun fire and screaming.” the lieutenant affirmed.

“Then what are we waiting for?” grunted Alexandre, leaning to the side and spitting out a stream of tobacco juice into a snow mound.

“Gross, man!” whined Evan Jolicoeur. A moderately-sized man with a wheat-blonde side swept crew cut and a slightly dirtier-blonde anchor beard.

Arielle made a face and simply chose to slug Alexandre in the left bicep- hard, to which the big man showed absolutely no reaction.

The lieutenant's eyes turned hard, causing everyone to subconsciously straighten up and look straight ahead and past her.

“Officer Normandeau...” her cold voice could freeze flames.

“Yes ma’am, sorry ma’am. Won’t happen again, ma’am.” Alexandre said with a serious expression. He actually had forgotten. Between the snow and piercing wind, he had habitually gone for his tobacco chew to help keep himself warm.

The lieutenant nodded, though her piercing gaze didn’t ease one iota. “This is a potentially active crime scene. We haven’t even begun taking in evidence... break regs again and I’ll have your badge. Am I understood?”

Alexandre grimly nodded.

“As I was saying- this is precisely why we’re approaching this with more caution and backup than usual,” the lieutenant meet Alexandre’s eyes until he looked down.

“Makes sense.” nodded Arielle.

“We have a first responder?” Evan redirected.

“Yes- Miguel Lemaire.” the Lieutenant responded.

“Never heard of him- new guy?”

“New guy,” she affirmed, “has a good head on his shoulders, unlike some.” she distinctly looked at Alexandre when saying this, “-even waited patiently in his cruiser and took decent notes of the area at his time of arrival.”

“Mm, right- we thinking some kind of CDS powerplay?” asked Evan.

The last officer snorted, mockingly asking, "The Sinaloa’s, this far north?” Everyone ignored Arthur Mayer, a tall, thinly-built man with dark brown hair in a clean, conservative, slicked-back side part hairstyle.

“Nothing’s off the table for now, especially since Chicago.” the lieutenant gave Arthur ‘the step-down look.’

Arthur’s lips twisted like he’d eaten something bitter, though he remained tactfully silent.

“What’s the game plan then, L-tee?”

“The name of the game is caution and observation: we’ve nearly got a secure perimeter with uniforms observing the building and small teams sweeping the exterior. We’re just waiting on the all-clear to enter the premises after they've swept the parking lot for our suspected drug meet."

"This shouldn’t need to be said for us to properly do our jobs, but I’ll say this much,” the lieutenant momentarily looked conflicted, the briefest of cracks on her stony expression, before she composed herself once more.

“The Chief Inspector already has his eye on this one.”

“Fuck...” Evan breathed, then looked at the lieutenant with wide eyes, “boss- how? - it’s only been-”

“I’m aware, Officer Jolicoeur.” The lieutenant's voice was grave. “Which is why I’ve pointed this out in case any of you were feeling particularly sorry for yourselves about getting dragged out that warm, comfy precinct.”

"Hell no- I mean, absolutely not, ma'am. We're here and ready to serve." Arielle energetically answered.

The lieutenant nodded, "Good. Let's-"

The radio on her shoulder crackled to life, a garbled voice ringing out. The lieutenant looked at the assembled officers and motioned to the side with her head, "Off you go, and get ready. Something tells me this is the real deal." Then she turned around and grasped the radio on her shoulder, leaning her head to the side to speak into it.

"Aubry, here. Give me a sitrep."

The other four officers dispersed, with Alexandre popping the driver's seat door of his police cruiser and settling his considerable bulk into the seat. The car's suspension noticeably dropped. He then grabbed the conventional, matte-black, pump-shotgun from where it was leaning against the passenger's seat and laid it across his lap before absently gazing out the windshield at the swirling, angry snowstorm.

Arielle and Evan were about to walk back to their own vehicles when they suddenly heard Arthur.

“The hell?...” he incredulously muttered.

Arielle turned to look back. Evan noticed she’d stopped walking alongside him and turned to see her looking back at Arthur. A slight frown curled the corner of his mouth.

He was about to say that they should get moving, when Arielle looked back and tilted her head in Arthur’s direction.

Evan’s brow crinkled and his eyes said, ‘What for?’.

Arielle motioned once more, this time more slowly and insistently before walking back toward Arthur, who was looking down the path leading to the police cruisers blockading the road further away on the main street access to the hospital.

Evan sighed internally, his shoulder somewhat sagging, but he nevertheless followed and came to stand on Arthur’s right-side as Arielle politely inquired.

“Something happen?”

Arthur started and looked at her with wide eyes before his complexion reset to its factory-setting of stand-offish asshole- his brows furrowed, and his lips pressed into a thin line as he pointedly didn’t answer her and looked back in the direction he’d been previously watching.

Evan opened his mouth to say something but stopped when his eyes flicked to Arielle and caught her pointedly staring him down- a severe glint in her eyes.

Evan frowned, but stayed silent, then tried to follow the direction of Arthur’s eyes.

“Something over there?” Arielle tried once more, her face curiously neutral.

Without turning, a thoughtful frown creased Arthur’s face, as he slowly said, “No... but... Thought I saw someone...”

Evan couldn’t help but scoff internally, ‘At this distance- in this weather? Give me a break.’

“Oh?” Arielle’s pleasant tone of voice carrying a sense of piqued interest.

“Mm. Looked like... Sergeant Huard.” Arthur mumbled to himself almost as much as to the people beside him. He pointed to a grouping of police cruiser lights flashing in the distance. Evan and Arielle glanced at one another behind Arthur’s back. They shared the same thought.

‘The sergeant’s here too?’

Arthur shook his head and swiped off some powdery snow that had settled on his shoulders and the front creases of his vest.

“Whatever- I’m going back.” Arthur said, turning back and trudging up the path to the hospital- heading toward his car and its much needed heater.

1:10 AM

“Elena!”

Lieutenant Aubry's eyes narrowed at the informal use of her name at a recently designated crime scene- forensics had finally located their smoking gun, literally. The open parking lot was covered in what the team assumed was dried blood, some honest-to-God bones of all things, and a damaged handgun that was supposedly of extremely high quality not too long ago.

She turned and looked in the direction of the voice- and then her eyes actually lit up with some surprise.

“Sergeant Huard?” Her voice was laced with accusatory confusion.

“Elena- glad I caught you,” Sergeant Huard shouted over the cacophony of the storm, jogging up the path to the front of the hospital. The four other heavily-armored and equipped officers preparing to enter the hospital all exchanged wide-eyed glances.

Lieutenant Aubry turned back to the uniform she'd been coordinating the perimeter expansion with, who quickly offered a nod and a 'Ma'am,' before also striding away, talking into his shoulder-radio.

Sergeant Huard came to a stop and offered a cheeky salute and cocky grin.

"So, what'd I miss?" he innocently asked.

Lieutenant Aubry's eyebrows rose, though her expression remained the same.

"What did you miss?" she repeated.

"Yes, ma'am. Reporting for duty."

"If I'm not mistaken, Sergeant Huard, I was under the impression you're currently working across the river?"

Sergeant Huard shrugged good-naturedly, "What, Chicoutimi? They can live without me for a few hours- I've got Triston covering till the afternoon."

Lieutenant Aubry's brows furrowed, "Morency. You gave Morency jurisdiction over sixty-thousand people?"

The once-distant sounds of an ambulance grew louder over the storm until the heavy vehicle rolled up the snowy road and parked behind the police cruise barricade.

Now it was Sergeant Huard's turn to be surprised. "You know, Triston? Damn, Aubry- I guess that's why you're the Lieutenant."

"Hmph. You shouldn't have done that, Sergeant- he's incompetent compared to you."

Sergeant Huard placed a gloved hand over his heart, "I will take that as a compliment, Lieutenant Aubry."

Lieutenant Aubry wearily sighed, defeated. "Fine. But why-"

"Actually, the Chief Inspector asked for my advice." Sergeant Huard interrupted. That sealed the deal.

The Lieutenant's eyes widened. Then her face set once more into its professional guise.

"Alright, hang back with me, we're about to get the all-clear for my team-"

"I need to go in."

"Why-" The Lieutenant cut herself off.

'He has the CI's clearance. I'm surprised he hasn't just taken control of the investigation at this point. Just step back, and make sure everything goes as planned. It's just one more trained pair of eyes on the scene.'

"Alright." She assented with a nod, then motioned behind him to her insertion team. "Go ahead and let them know you're on point. And- paramedics are here too so we only a few more minutes, I imagine."

"You got it, Lieutenant. See ya on the other side." He winked before turning and walking over to the group of four officers who were suspiciously standing at near-perfect attention.

"Alright, ladies and gents," the Lieutenant heard, "who's ready to blow this popsicle stand?!" Sergeant Huard jovially shouted, rubbing his gloves together before clapping them for a muffled slap.

She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath of cold, snowy air. It stung her throat and lungs. Refreshing.

1:25 AM

"Go, go, go, move it people- clear the way!" commanded a tall paramedic in a full EMT uniform as he ran ahead to clear a path of uniforms gathered beyond the police cruisers for the two other paramedics pushing an occupied gurney past the hospitals main entrance.

The rest of the incursion team slowly exited the hospital with weary expressions, trailing behind the paramedics who efficiently, and expertly rushed the gurney past the police cruiser blockade and started rolling it up into the back of the ambulance.

Lieutenant Audry grimly walked past the display, though noting their beautiful response to procedure and textbook attitude in the back of her mind for the later report. "Sergeant Huard-" she started, only for him to completely ignore her without so much as a glance as he practically sprinted past- rushing toward the ambulance. The other two paramedics were loaded up in the back of the ambulance with the gurney, so the last paramedic, the tall man who'd lead the way earlier slammed the two back doors shut and pounded it once before moving around the side to get into the drivers seat. Only for some police officer to be standing directly in front of the door.

"Sir! I need you to move out of the way imme-"

"Where is this going?" Sergeant Huard demanded, his eyes hard- unyielding. The paramedic wasn't moved in the slightest. His only concern was getting the only surviving victim to the nearest emergency room for surgery and stabilization.

"The Hôpital St-Amarias for emergency care, now sir, please move aside!"

"No. Head to the Saguenay Precinct on Talbot road- use the emergency medical department there- access entrance is to the north, behind the building."

"What-"

"That's an order from the Chief Inspector himself!" Sergeant Huard shouted, reaching into his coat and removing his badge, practically shoving it into the paramedics face. "And unless you want you and your family to be out on your asses in the snow during Christmas Eve, you better fucking listen, you understand!?"

The paramedic's face turned chillier than the snow around them. He was prepared to stand his ground about taking the victim to licensed, professional trauma care facility but quickly decided that he wasn't willing to risk his future over a single person. If there were multiple? He would like to think he would've held firmer. This situation seemed severely beyond his pay-grade despite the medical emergency.

"Fine. Get out of the way!" The paramedic wasn't planning on being cordial to a man like this. Someone who was screaming semantics and with a paranoid-edge to his tone when a man's life was at stake. Fucking politics.

The ambulance door opened and slammed shut. The engine flared to life-the siren blared as it pulled out of the front road and turned onto the exit road, driving off into the wind and snow. Sergeant Huard watched the tail lights, sounds, and flashing colors disappear behind a roiling, swirling blanket of snow.

"Sergeant Huard, care to explain?" Lieutenant Audry frostily asked, sidling up beside him. Her gaze similarly fixed onto the place where the ambulance had disappeared.

"Sorry, Lieutenant. I can't do that. You'll have my report shortly." Sergeant Huard emotionlessly stated, then turned and walked down the path to his cruiser. The lieutenant silently watched him walk away. Her expression inscrutable as the wind whipped at her parka.

Sergeant Huard offered slight, cordial nods and greetings to the occasional uniform on his way to the cruiser but otherwise didn't stop to talk. Reaching his vehicle, he opened the driver's side door and slipped inside, closing it behind him. He didn't turn on the windshield scrubbers yet- he didn't want anyone to see inside. Opening his glove box, he fished out an old flip phone and snapped it open, speed dialed the only recorded contact number, and held it up to his ear.

Someone answered on the second ring.

"Jerome Guérard - Sergeant Philippe Huard of the Chicoutimi Police Department, Québec. Nightwatch- Sector Two."

Silence. Jerome only heard the snow scratching the sides of his car, and his own breath.

"Confirmed. What've you got for us, Nightwatch?"