The six and a half foot tower named Sullivan Derrick Ortega, simply deflated… muttering. The two arresting officers quickly flanked him in seconds, wearing their best "in charge" faces. Sullivan looked down at the two on either side of his shoulders.
"No hard feelings, okay guys?"
"I guess not, Sully," said Garcia, watching Sgt. Ortega’s eyes.
"Me neither," said Sandoval, letting the smallest trace of a smile find its way to his face.
"Sullivan... listen cousin, you're going to have to learn how to keep your temper under control. This is getting serious.” Sgt. Ortega eased back into his chair.
As Sullivan began to protest, he simply cut it off by waving a finger in the air in his face. "What would your mother and sister — God rest them — think of all this?"
Sergeant Ortega waited for a response and when not a single grunt was forthcoming, he repeated it, "What?" "
* * *