SPOILER

SPOILER ALERT: everything below gives away major plot points.

They wait, tense and jittery, clock hands crawling toward eight. One of them mutters, “You sure he’s coming? You said eight.” The others snap at each other to calm down, but the nerves are plain: this is more than a stakeout, it’s a powder keg. A fanfare of music and footsteps — someone shouts “Heads up, that’s him” — and they lock eyes on their mark. He’s exactly what the intel described: Hispanic, small, black leather jacket, black pants, heavy boots. As he steps onto the property, the team debates the one question that matters: does he have the product?

Their leader jokes darkly about a crystal ball, but there’s no time for wit. Delta team moves in: “Three… two… one — go!” The raid is abrupt, shouted commands and running boots, the kind of chaotic precision that turns a quiet street into a war zone. “Stop right there!” someone barks. A suspect is cuffed, forced to turn, hands behind his back, as lights and cameras and radios ping around them.

After the dust settles the boss drills the team: “Start from the top — what the hell happened?” Tempers flare immediately. One officer pleads his case — he insists he didn’t blow anyone’s cover on purpose — but the boss is unforgiving. The always-tense dynamic between an old-school detective and a younger, more reckless undercover comes to the surface. The undercover says he was inside, the boss retorts that he should have known where that guy was; the rookie point-blank says no one told him where their man was hiding. Both have truths: the rookie’s been on this drug case longer than some of the others, he says, and his confidential informant has connected the dots on Ruiz — a small-time dealer who isn’t just selling to addicts but actively getting underage girls hooked.

That allegation shifts the tone. “Your CI’s connection to Ruiz?” the boss asks coldly. The informant met Ruiz through her sister, who fell in with Ruiz and his circle — hooked on narcotics and then gone, off the radar. Suddenly the case isn’t just about possession and distribution; it smells like trafficking, like exploitive grooming. The undercover presses to expand the operation — drugs plus human trafficking — but the boss resists vehemently. He’s defensive: he’s not running a joint operation, he resents being told to bring in another team, and he bristles at the implication that he needs protection from someone newer on the job. Pride and jurisdictional hissy fits get in the way of cooperation.

The raid itself looks like a bust. The suspect they grabbed didn’t have enough drugs on him to sustain a felony charge; the boss points that out, irritated. The CI swears Ruiz is worse — not merely a pusher but a predator — and insists the team keep pushing. “We just weren’t lucky today,” someone says, trying to shoulder the blame. But luck, in this world, is often code for “someone tipped them off.” The underlying fear surfaces: someone on the inside is talking.

Fast-forward: the arrested men are back together, trading shocked whispers in a holding cell. One tells the other how he was released without bail — charged only with illegal possession of a firearm — the kind of slap that smells like corruption. They remember Ruiz, who was with them earlier in custody before being moved away. Someone’s making calls; Ruiz will be released soon, one inmate assures the others. That revelation chills them. How did the police know they’d been there? If the girls had been found in that raid, they would have been exposed, maybe killed. They got lucky — or unlucky, depending on perspective — and the bleak conclusion lands: there’s a snitch.

That’s where the story’s real pivot comes: the group decides they need to “get rid of this cop.” The name falls like a grenade: Detective Joe Hill. The moment is electric — everyone on edge — because Hill isn’t just any cop. He’s presumed trustworthy, a grey-suited anchor in the department, and naming him makes it impossible to ignore the rot that’s been spreading.

From here the film plunges into the tangled, morally messy world of cops versus criminals where the lines blur. The narrative follows Jamie — the undercover who’s been on the Ruiz case for months — as he pieces together clues that point back to Hill. Jamie’s not naïve; he’s spent three months cultivating sources, following crumbs, and he knows how easy it is for a case to be sabotaged from the inside. He and his small squad quietly start their own investigation, pulling records, replaying radio traffic, and interviewing officers off the record. The boss resists, suspicious of Jamie’s zeal, but Jamie is relentless: when young girls’ lives are at stake, there’s no room for turf wars.

Evidence accumulates: Ruiz’s releases at odd hours, internal memos that evaporate, and a trail of phone calls between Ruiz’s associates and a number that pings back to Hill’s close contacts. Jamie finds more than poor paperwork — he finds a motive. Hill, the film reveals in a slow-burn montage, is compromised: debts, a soft spot for quick money, and a taste for control. He tolerated small favors from dealers until favors became payoffs. The department’s strict chain of custody, the boss’s stubbornness to keep control, and Hill’s quiet movements create the perfect cover.

Jamie takes a gamble. He plays his own dangerous game, feeding false intel to Ruiz — bait to see who moves. It works: Ruiz, emboldened, steps beyond the protection of his handler and contacts Hill directly to tip him off about police activity. Hill, expecting a promotion for quietly smoothing operations and protecting his sources, instead overreaches. The film’s tension ratchets as Jamie and his team set a counter-trap. They wire a staged exchange with hidden cameras and backup units. This time they plan to catch Hill not with a grandstanding arrest — that would be messy and public — but with incontrovertible evidence: recorded phone calls, bank transfers that line up with Ruiz’s payoffs, and witness testimony from someone Ruiz betrayed — the CI whose sister vanished.

The climax is taut. Hill, realizing the net’s closing, panics and makes a desperate move to protect himself — ordering Ruiz moved, trying to erase records, and even threatening witnesses. That escalates into a final confrontation in a derelict warehouse: Hill arrives under the guise of making an arrest, but Jamie and his team are waiting, lights blazing. Words are exchanged, and Hill’s calm façade cracks. He fires a warning shot that hits a support beam; a firefight erupts. The film doesn’t shy away from the cost. One of Jamie’s closest allies — a veteran cop who once vouched for Hill — is mortally wounded in the crossfire. Violence exposes truth, but it also exacts a price.

In the aftermath, recordings and financial records prove Hill’s complicity. He’s arrested on charges that range from obstruction and bribery to facilitating trafficking. Ruiz and several of his network are also taken down, thanks to the records Jamie dug up and the CI’s testimony — the sister who had been missing is found in a safe house and is finally able to speak. The city breathes a little easier, but not without scars: Jamie, whose integrity cost him friendships and almost cost him his life, is left with a hollow victory. The boss who refused to coordinate is publicly reprimanded; internal affairs conducts a sweeping inquiry into other possible moles. The film doesn’t offer neat closure — it’s a world where corruption is systemic, where authorities can be predators, and where redemption, when it comes, is messy.

The final scenes are bittersweet. Ruiz’s ring collapses, trafficking victims are rescued, and Detective Joe Hill is led away in cuffs. But Jamie stares at the evidence — the photos, the messages, the ledger — and realizes the fight isn’t over. The film ends with him getting another file on his desk: a new missing person, another set of initials. He opens it, takes a breath, and walks out the precinct door. The camera pulls back as rain begins, leaving audiences with the clear, uneasy message: justice can be won, but it costs, and there will always be another case waiting in the dark.