“OYE, CABRÓN, those aguacates your mami gave me have been sitting in my oven for weeks, and they’re still hard as bricks.”
Here we go. Quinn shook his head in amusement as his teammates bickered. Why did every conversation his team had on the way to a scene involve avocados?
Their commander had already briefed them on the situation, one that they’d dealt with a hundred times over and that unfortunately seemed to be happening far too often lately: armed subjects barricaded inside a house. Quinn had been on SWAT seven years now, and in that time he’d watched his beloved city slowly sink into the swamps it was built on. He used to love Miami, loved the part he played in keeping it safe. It was once a beautiful city filled with people relieved to see him, thankful for the service he provided. Now they spit at…