It was 5 in the morning. Four officers, headed by Officer Wakita, were banging on a door in an alley in Brooklyn. No answer came. The officers were responding to reports of gunfire at this address. The four man found a piece of wood and smashed a window. As soon as they crawled in, they saw that the report had been correct. A man lay dead on the floor, a shotgun in his hand. Next to him was a crate, labeled "Stock." The officers knew what that meant: drugs. This alley was filled with this kind of filth. The officers searched the house, hoping to find the killer. One of the officers wandered upstairs, where he found a trap door to the attic open. The four officers creep up the ladder. They switch on a light, and there stands a mobster. He jumps behind a pile of crates, firing his gun as he does so. One of the officers topples backwards, shot in the chest. His breath ebbs away as the other men run for cover. For a few minutes, guns fire non-stop. Then there is silence. Two more officers are dead. The remaining officer advances on the mobster's hiding place. Suddenly, the mobster calls out, "Hold it Wakita!" The officer stops short and shoves his gun back into his holster. The mobster directs him downstairs. Sirens wail outside. Seven officers break in the door and charge in. They spread out. Gunfire breaks out again when two officers walk into a bedroom. An officer runs downstairs, and yells, "Upstairs! Officer dead, I'm wounded!" the other five men charge upstairs and into the room. The mobster steps out from behind the door and fires a shotgun. Three officers fall, clutching various parts of themselves. The other two jump for cover. As they do, one falls to the floor, dead from another shot. The remaining officer tries to get out of the room but is knocked out by the mobster. The other three try to jump out the window. One falls and is killed instantly. Another is shot as he jumps, and lands dead. The other one is grabbed by the mobster and flung against the wall, unconscious. The mobster stabs the two unconscious men and flees the room. The last officer, the wounded one, fires at the mobster as he runs downstairs. The mobster falls, wounded in the leg. He thinks he's a dead man, until a second officer jumps over him and kicks the wounded officer in the throat. The dying man's last breath is expended on six words: "Wakita, you son of a bitch."

Wakita and the mobster shake hands. The mobster's drug deal gone wrong has become a corruption deal gone right.