GUARDIA MUNICIPAL

"Anyone ever bother you here? Say, the Guardia Municipal?"

You recall Vespar speaking of his time in the Guardia Municipal. A decade of low-stake days.

Following her line of sight, there's no sign of the guardia municipal officer who was loitering there itching himself earlier.

Following her line of sight, there's no sign of a guardia municipal officer.

The Guardia Municipal officer is intensely scratching at his neck. As you approach, he wipes his hand on his trouser leg.

"Or you don't get how things work here, as a foreigner." He glowers at you. "You see, the Guardia Municipal has a meticulous approach to perimeters."

"It's private business. The Guardia Municipal doesn't have jurisdiction to look into that."

"Missing people's reports are handled by the Carabineros, not the Guardia Municipal." He frowns at you. "That's procedure."

As a member of the Guardia Municipal, it's unlikely he can openly talk about a bootlegger.

A better question: why are you bringing this up, sans subterfuge, to a Guardia Municipal officer?

"The Guardia Municipal's." He holds up a palm. "Just, you know. Not me."

"Officer Maurito, agente coordenador for the Guardia Municipal." He sniffs, sharply. "Do you need help with anything?"

"As a Guardia Municipal officer, I have no knowledge of any such line." He rolls his neck once, slow.

"As an officer of the Guardia Municipal, I am not aware of this 'Duchess', or of any 'Miracle Line'."

"As a Guardia Municipal officer, I have no knowledge of any 'Miracle Line'." He nods, firmly, twice. "Different payphone, anyway."

"Guardia Municipal training is second to none."

"You shouldn't be here." The Guardia Municipal officer rubs his eyes and straightens himself out.

"Guardia Municipal, state your location and the nature of your emergency."

"Withholding 'stabilisation' funds, cutting off access to international credit, pressuring the Guardia Municipal to lock up dissenters. The usual cocktail of coercions."

The Guardia Municipal officer squints up at the dilapidated building, shielding his eyes with an orange slip of paper. He grunts as you approach.

"As an officer of the Guardia Municipal, I give you permission to enter." He taps his badge. "Please get them out of there."

"Right. It seems someone tipped off the Guardia Municipal that your special asset has been 'aiding and abetting communism... also racial profiling'."

The Guardia Municipal. Street cops.