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He spun around. His messy desk was gone. In its place stood a podium emblazoned with a blue-and-gold crest. The air smelled of stale coffee and industrial floor wax. "Cadet!" a voice boomed.

Harris narrowed his eyes. "He's good. Too good. Jones! Give this man a uniform and a series of improbable vocal sound effects!" You have requested : Loucademia.de.Pol__cia.7.1...

From the corner of the room, a tall, bumbling man in a Russian fur hat—Commandant Lassard—approached a goldfish bowl, looking lost. He spun around