A week had passed from the time the operation Zeph and Chief Bobby Marlecl called Tiny Shovels and with much effort and carefully carried out "unsuccessful" raids, the traceable Mod Pink pills and marked credits were slowly filtering through the muck to reach the hands they wanted to slap cuffs around.
However, they had to mostly sit on their own hands or hold tight on the leashes of Central Command Headquarters' normal Nephilim Enforcement Officers who were too eager to bite at the heals of the small fries.
Snagging one or two would be fine, they had to keep up appearances and some of the small fish might know where they should dangle the worm on a hook to catch the bigger fish that just might have a little bit of dirt on the sharks and whales they were after.
Most of their concern had to do with where the "flying fish" fit in if they did. Zeph had to use extra special bait to real them in and it had to be done in the light of day between training and extended studies.
