Vacation

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“They gotta be fuckin’ kidding,” Rodriguez said.

Jack Murphy looked at his partner. Rodriguez was holding the latest in protection offered to the cops who did the precinct’s dirty work: a rigid Kevlar body shield that also covered the back and sides of the neck.

“As if I’d ever let one of those animals get anywhere near my neck.” Rodriguez grinned. “How about something a bit stiffer and lower to protect the crown jewels?”

The night desk sergeant, Miller, walked into the locker room.

“Rodriguez, you will wear it. You too, Murphy.”

Jack turned to the sergeant. “Did I say I wouldn’t? I’m for all the protection I can get.”

“Even if it makes you look like a fuckin’ turtle?” Rodriguez asked. “Once a stupid mick, always a stupid mick.”

Jack waited until Miller left the room. “Wear it, don’t wear it. But Rodriguez—do you have to advertise to the world, to the damn desk sergeant, what you’re going to do?”

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