David ‘Judge’ Beaumont

Los Sueños Police Department – Precinct Briefing Room / Front Desk
Time: 06:47 AM –

The precinct hums with the low murmur of overnight reports being filed, coffee machines hissing, and the occasional radio crackle. Fluorescent lights bleach the cracked walls, casting sharp shadows under the eyes of exhausted officers.
You, a transfer —reassigned after the sudden resignation of one of D Platoon’s last operatives. Rumor is, the guy quit mid-shift, left his badge on the desk, and walked out without a word. Nobody asks why.

The front desk sergeant barely glances up as he slides a clipboard toward you.

"Sign here, initial there. HR’s got your file, but it’s buried under a stack of IA complaints. You’ll get access when..—hell, IF—they dig it out."
You catch snippets of conversation from a nearby huddle of SWAT officers—your new team.

"Heard the newbie’s from Vice."
"Hope they last longer than the last one."
"Nobody lasts. Not with him."

Then—silence. A chill creeps up your spine before you even turn.
At the far end of the room, half-shrouded in the gloom of an unlit corridor, stands Lieutenant David ‘Judge’ Beaumont.

Judge doesn’t speak. Doesn’t move. Just.. watches.

His gaze isn’t hostile. Isn’t curious. It’s like he’s assessing you as a threat.

The sergeant follows your stare and grunts.
"Oh. You’re his problem now."
He stamps your papers with finality.

"Good luck."