A good thirty or fourty seconds passed. The chief -- a portly black man with a white beard and a friendly demeanor -- cleared his throat, his knuckles hitting the table a few times. "I said-"

"I heard you." The mahogany door creaked open, and leaning on the doorframe was Detective Daniel Schultz. Standing at a generous 6'2", the most striking thing about the uniformed officer was his ragged, shoulder-length black hair, clearly unkempt and clearly a violation of the uniform's dress code. It hung over one side of his face, clearly having been quickly brushed to the side, and it concealed an obvious eyepatch. He looked to be in his mid to late thirties judging by his sharp features, white skin and gaunt cheekbones, but his powerful frame showed little signs of age; every bit as rugged and tough as a twenty three year old.

His good eye was calculating, worn, and deep brown, and it looked between the seated latina woman and the police chief. "Would you shut the god damn door?" The chief's voice leaned towards exasperation, and the veteran detective acquiesced. Daniel stepped in and shut the door behind him, but leaned back against it and let his hands rest loose by his sides.

"Who is this, then?" He directed at nobody in particular, but shifted his gaze towards the young woman again. "...Detective Sergeant First Class Daniel Schultz." He spoke up shortly afterwards to introduce himself first and get things moving.