Lieutenant, Andre de Avilés is a hard-nosed lawman in charge of Detroit PD's Intel Squad. Born in Spain's Basque Country, the forty-something detective's style is a 'balls-to-the-wall" boldness for suppressing organized crimes. His tenacious methods entail a variety of innovative strategies and tactics that have resulted in a number of well-publicized cases. Nevertheless, for every successful operation he and the squad have pulled off, de Avilés generated new enemies. Mostly, whispered threats came from members of the criminal gangs he and the Intel Squad had dismantled. When a couple sophisticated OCD families tossed out a smattering of bold protests, de Avilés only chuckled, "Not to worry, it's all a part of the job." On the other hand, there were other dangers that were a little closer to home. These were his adversaries from inside his own department. A few were jealous of his honesty, integrity, and innate talent to lead dedicated detectives against the worst of the worst-and get the job done. Some resented the manner in which he recruited and treated squad members. All were handpicked and the cream of the crop. They drove the best UC vehicles and used state-of-the-art electronic gear . . . not from DPD . . . but borrowed from Feds who fought to work jointly. Not much went on in the Metro area that LT and the Intel detectives couldn't find in their files. Then there are his contemporaries in other squads-along with a few of their bosses-the brass-hats who prefer policing to run tacitly, inconspicuously . . . under the radar . . . and minus most publicity. Like those old coppers-loaded down with brass and guilt-who fought to hang on to their fiefdoms. Some say a contemporary definition of certain fiefs in Motown was, Grants of position, power, and perks given to one's appointees by heavyweight politicians in exchange for promises of loyalty and service. In DPD, a number of fiefs came with a full complement of detectives, officers, and administrative positions. De Avilés and other dedicated officers and supervisors kept an eye on the up-and-comers who were emulating the old geezers on the upper floors. The conniving old guard was purposely mentoring some of the newer lieutenants. Along with the secret handshake came cushy assignments and access to expensive freebies from benefactors who did business in the rundown ghetto. The spoils from more glamorous venues-like Detroit's casinos and the restaurants, bars and peripheral joints in and around Greektown-would come later rather than sooner. Old fogies can be selfish . . . but they will eventually pull-the-plug and retire, or, drop dead if an unfriendly IRS or FBI agent asks for a sit-down talk. From within this environment, Andre de Avilés embarks upon a joint investigation with his old friend and long ago partner, Brian Culbert. Andre and Brian worked together for a short time, just before Culbert quit the force and signed on with ATF. De Avilés finds it amusing that he and Culbert, along with Hugh St. Giles-their closest friend-have all made it into management positions. As DPD's Chief of Detectives, St. Giles regularly defends his Intel lieutenant-even at the expense of pissing off his own chain of command. In the past, Deputy Chief of Police Richard Simmons had been equal in rank to Andre de Avilés. He never liked the man, especially when Andre's people continually out produced Simmons' squad of detectives. Since his promotion, Simmons and St. Giles engage in persistent skirmishes over Intel operations. Having the Chief of Detectives as your close friend could be extremely valuable when the going got rough.