Tilly studied Rick’s face as they flew down Peachtree, a detachable light flickering on the roof. He seemed thrilled. This would be their first time hauling in perps in the middle of a crime. They usually cuffed people when they were fiddling with their Keurigs or changing the cat litter. Rick liked to call those kinds of pickups data dumps: show up and unload the evidence, smothering the perp all at once, like pouring ashes into a fire. It was the most reliable way to bring in perps. It was natural for people to resist some mudslinging, but being buried alive brought swift acquiescence. Kill Bill: Vol. 2 was a fantasy. This case was different, though. This was a hunt.

Midtown was active. Cars were reluctant to pull aside, pedestrians made their own crosswalks, Uber drivers loitered near the curbs of restaurants. Tilly hadn’t been out all summer, she realized as they passed the Vortex. The last guy she’d dated had taken her to an open mic comedy show there in early May. She’d been struck by how many variations of bearded white man there were. The jokes weren’t as variable. Dicks, self-derision, anxiety about gentrification, comments on unique romantic experiences that were actually quite common: it all had reminded her of the internet.

Her phone rang. It was the captain of the two precincts helping them with the arrests.

“What?” Tilly huffed. “Are you fucking serious?” she screamed, spiking the phone onto the car floor.

Rick looked over at her as they waited at a light, somehow still thrilled. A homeless woman skipped across the street. Tilly found it unsettling. She remained silent until the car started moving again, turning left onto Tenth.

“So?” he asked.

“The officers we were supposed to be given are being rerouted to State Farm Arena. There was a technical mishap at the Gucci concert. People are panicking.”

“Don’t they understand that the goddamn city’s at stake?”

“I don’t know what Houndum told them, Rick. But maybe this is actually what we need? These are just kids, after all. Why are we sending a SWAT team after them? Two of them visited a college last month. They can’t be doing anything too radical.”

Rick parked the SUV on the sidewalk, dropping his voice to a murmur as he checked his ammunition. “Tilly, this isn’t an investigation anymore. The kid said the word ‘bombing.’ You’ve seen the images from the Rudolph bombings; you don’t want that much blood on your hands. We don’t have to ask any further questions. We just have to go pick these kids up.” He paused, calculating. “If you’re feeling squeamish about it, I can go alone. I will have to put that in the report, though.”