Irish whiskey. The stick. A good hard case. And women. These are some affinities in the life of Jimmy McNulty. A failed marriage, drunkenness, philandering, disturbing co-workers in the middle of the night, insubordination and backdooring aside, McNulty is good police - both in skill and heart - driven by a propensity for solving cases. Having instigated the Baltimore Police Department's investigation of the Barksdale organization, McNulty defied anyone he had to for the sake of the case. Breaking the chain-of-command, he gets sent to a no-hope detail with the Baltimore Harbor Patrol. At least he met Beadie Russell there. He also encounters another case worth building: 14 bodies in a shipment container landing him back in the detail. Closure in that case focused his attention back on the Barksdales and a war with a new westside rival. McNulty almost squeezes out a tear when Stringer is killed subverting his efforts on the case. It had become personal. He still manages to find some satisfaction when he hands Avon an arrest warrant citing Stringer as the named source of information. A journey had ended and a new one begins as he throws himself back in the streets of the Western and with it a new perspective on his life.

With a law degree under his belt, the career-conscious Lt. Daniels was once on the fast track to becoming a major, and after that, quite possibly a colonel, deputy commissioner or higher. But all that changed when McNulty compelled Judge Phelan to take an interest in the Barksdales. The bosses tapped Daniels to lead a fast, straightforward - and above all, limited - investigation. Daniels understood his charge, but faced with the realities of what was required to pursue the Barksdale case, he found himself drawn inexorably toward a wiretap that his superiors did not want. And when the investigation started to target the money trail, Daniels got behind his unit and jeopardized his career by defying Commissioner Burrell's order to shut it down.

This strained his marriage to his politically ambitious and well-connected wife, Marla, who feared that everything they'd worked and waited for was on the line - especially after Burrell threatened to reveal a long-buried corruption scandal that occurred during the lieutenant's early days in Eastern District. Daniels ignored the threat and brought in the Barksdale case, though Burrell exacted his revenge in the end - assigning Daniels to clerk duty in the evidence room.

That turned out to be short-lived, as another case soon required his attention: Major Valchek's petulant feud with dockworkers' union boss Frank Sobotka over a window donated to a Roman Catholic church in the city's Polish neighborhood. Valchek demanded that Daniels lead his anti-corruption probe of the dockworkers local on the basis of his son-in-law's recommendation. Happy to be out of the evidence room, Daniels agreed. But the probe became meaningful when it tied into drug smuggling, human trafficking and murder. After bringing in some arrests on that second case, Daniels was given a permanent wiretap detail, and set his sights on the Barksdale organization once again. This time, the unit made good on years of police work. Despite constant setbacks, Daniels finally made the rank of major, and did it his own way.

But it wasn't fast enough for his wife, and the marriage broke apart. For a time, Daniels pretended otherwise, so as to allow Marla to better run for city council with her husband on her arm. But eventually, Daniels found a new romance with A.S.A. Rhonda Pearlman. And once Marla was on the mayor's ticket and seemingly assured of victory, Daniels and Pearlman went public.

Demoted to desk work in the pawnshop unit for refusing to be less than entirely aggressive in a politically-connected case, Lester Freamon languished for 13 years in oblivion and developed a sideline making dollhouse miniatures to bide the time. More than a decade later, when knowledge of his original sin had all but disappeared within the department, the bosses shifted Freamon into a special detail with a couple of other aging detectives, thinking him merely deadwood. Instead, Freamon began demonstrating the skills of a consummate investigator, manning the wiretaps for both the Barksdale and Sobotka investigations, assessing the flood of information and remaining steadfast to the mantra that all the pieces matter. He is relentless when it comes to chasing leads - property, money, paper, wiretaps, cell phones, players - and he's an excellent mentor for younger detectives who heed his advice. A widower, Freamon emerged from the first Barksdale investigation with the attentions of Shardene, the attractive stripper-turned-informant who helped the detail break that case. When last seen, Shardene was living with Freamon, having returned to nursing school. Asked about the relationship, Freamon offered this dry credo: "Protect and serve."

When the tit-for-tat between Avon and Marlo became a full-blown battle over territory, towering Barksdale enforcer Slim Charles was brought on the payroll. He soon started dropping bodies and organizing the ranks of Barksdale hitters, thinned though they were after the losses of Wee-Bey to prison and Stinkum to Omar. And even as Daniels' squad kicks in the Barksdale safehouse and ends that war, consigning Avon Barksdale and most of his muscle to prison on weapons charges, Slim Charles was surveilling Marlo Stanfield and Chris Patrlow, ready to deliver a blow to the opposition. Because he was not at the safehouse, Slim Charles remains on the street - a man without an organization, until Proposition Joe offers him a lieutenant's grade, working with the eastside kingpin and the New Day Coop. Slim remains the source of supply for a handful of independent dealers trying to make their way on stray corners in the wake of the Barksdale collapse - dealers that include Bodie Broadus.

Barksdale's nephew - the son of his sister - rose through the ranks of the organization and was eventually given the high-rise tower at 221 West Fremont, lucrative territory. But his inability to handle a common argument in the lobby of the building led to a shooting - a slaying that was more panic and self-defense than any intended consequence. Barksdale saved his nephew from prison by bribing a key witness in the case - and outcome that angered a city judge who, learning from McNulty the extent of Barksdale's organization, pressured the police to begin the probe of the drug crew. Caught by detectives muling a package of heroin from New York, D'Angelo came close to turning state's witness against the rest of his family in exchange for the chance at a new life. A pretrial jail visit by his mother, Brianna Barksdale, convinced him to take a twenty-year sentence instead. Fearful that he would not be able to do the time and concerned as D'Angelo began to distance himself from his uncle inside the state prison, Bell ordered his murder and did so without the foreknowledge of Avon or his sister. D'Angelo was strangled in the prison library and a lax investigation by state troopers led to the death being classified as a suicide.

A low-level Barksdale dealer and sidekick to Bodie Broadus, Poot is, as they say, for the ladies. Frequently derided for his constant pursuit of corner girls, Poot is just as frequently a visitor to the University Hospital clinic for sexual transmitted diseases. Growing up in the towers and finding work selling heroin and cocaine in the low-rises alongside Bodie and Wallace, Poot was hesitant when word came down from Stringer to execute Wallace to prevent him from becoming a witness against the organization. Bodie took the lead in that murder, but, after wounding their friend and then hesitating, Bodie had the gun grabbed from his hand by Poot, who finished the killing - more an act of compassion for the dying Wallace, than a cold-blooded slaying. Caught on the wiretaps in the second Barksdale probe, Poot is doing a short bit in Jessup on his first serious adult charge.

A nimble and resourceful politician, the two-term Mayor of Baltimore Clarence Royce has a strong grip on municipal power. As his administration rallies around promises of reform and development, the city is confronted by a surging crime rate that is given the media spotlight by Councilman Carcetti, who is slowly laying the groundwork for his own run at Royce's chair in the upcoming Democratic primary. When the Hamsterdam drug-legalization fiasco threatens his standing, Royce throws his acting police commissioner, Ervin Burrell, in front of the council hearings to take the blame, all the while assuring his advisers that he will fire Burrell after winning the primary election. Above all, Royce counts on race undercutting Carcetti's insurgency in a city that is sixty-five percent African-American.

Raised by Lt. Daniels as a pup in the Eastern District drug unit, Kima became one of his best detectives after they transferred downtown to C.I.D. narcotics. Her demonstrated ability and her willingness to do the job even changed McNulty's unfavorable view of female police, and soon they even began to empathize with one another about the job, relationships and department politics. When Greggs was shot and seriously wounded in an undercover buy during the first Barksdale probe, her girlfriend Cheryl's worst nightmare came true. McNulty was guilt ridden for having pushed the case, and Daniels became more determined than ever to see it through - regardless of the cost to his career.

Escaping without permanent injury, Greggs initially agreed to limit herself to desk work in order to placate Cheryl, who was contemplating an in vitro pregnancy. But becoming a "housecat" is untenable for Greggs. Pushing paper until she could no longer stand it, she accepted Daniels's invitation to reunite with the unit investigating criminal activity on the Baltimore waterfront. When Cheryl got pregnant, Greggs distanced herself emotionally from her partner and, ultimately, from the newly arrived baby. She lost herself - and the relationship - in fresh casework and fresh sexual conquests, becoming ever more like McNulty. Since the Barksdale case came to a close, she's remained in the wiretap unit, pursuing a new target - Marlo Stanfield.

The mysterious "Greek" runs a business that imports stolen goods, drugs, women — anything and everything — through the Baltimore docks. He's unimposing, soft-spoken and is only interested in facts that make him more money. Anyone interfering with this process is eliminated immediately, and his signature style is to leave victims headless and handless.

When one of his containers arrives at the port with 13 dead girls inside, the Greek calmly orders the capture of the ship's engineer, who had fled. After getting the man to explain how the valuable cargo had died, the Greek signals Vondas to kill him. The incident also creates problems with the union boss Sobotka, who is angered about trafficking humans and has doubts about their arrangements. The Greek handles the situation, reassuring Sobotka and sweetening the deal by tripling his rate.

Whether working back on a mope or a moldering John Doe, The Bunk is a skillful, cigar-toting veteran of the homicide detective. As partner, Bunk and McNulty worked in tandem both on and off the job, doing as much damage in bars and, with luck, bedrooms, as they ever manage in the way of police work. Loyal, dry and hilariously profane, The Bunk is married with three kids, and is a student of psychology and manipulation - a good interrogator and a cop for whom a glance or a stray word can tell whole stories. He has a low threshold for bullshit, excepting his own, of course.

As the commander of C.I.D. Homicide, Major Rawls was blindsided by McNulty's effort to bring attention to the Barksdale organization, and his ire at the detective only grows as the wiretap detail expands that case. Rawls is a career officer and a lethal bureaucrat, not to be crossed. He banished McNulty to the marine unit, only to have the detective wash back up in the port investigation. As Daniels' star began to slowly rise following the port case, Rawls bid his time, protecting himself and his superiors and demanding constant statistical improvements from all subordinates, regardless of whether actual police work was being achieved or not. Promoted first to colonel and then to the Deputy Commissioner for Operations, Rawls has remained the loyal subordinate to Burrell, knowing perhaps that his path to the top position is blocked, in the majority-black Baltimore, by his race. Married with children, Rawls is nonetheless given, in moments of choler, to considerable homoerotic posturing and banter.

The politically astute Valchek once said of the City Councilman, Chair of the Council Subcommittee on Public Safety: "He's an asspain when he wants something, but mostly good people." Having aspirations besides warming the backbench, this self-described proud son of the Fighting First District harbors a genuine idealism and a desire to improve the life of the city's diverse population. But those ideals are harnessed to naked political ambitions. With a steady and calculated effort, Carcetti plans to unseat Baltimore's black incumbent mayor, despite the fact that he is white in a majority-black city. To do so, Carcetti plays hardball politics, infiltrating Mayor Royce's circle of trust at points and using information to make political points and burnish his reputation. Carcetti is about contradictions: a family man with a committed wife and young children, he isn't above the odd indiscretion. Nor was he above sacrificing Colvin and his drug legalization experiment, even though it was clear to him that there was some merit to the idea. And his salt-and-pepper friendship with fellow councilman Tony Gray was expendable when it became clear to Carcetti that he could only defeat Royce if Gray also got into the race first, thereby splitting the black vote. But Carcetti believes in himself and his ability to better the city. Before he can be mayor, however, he must confront the practicalities of municipal politics.

"There's never been a paper bag for drugs. Until now." When the department brass issued an ultimatum to commanders demanding that they effectively manage the crime rate in their districts, Western District's Major Colvin didn't re-classify felonies or juke the stats, as other district supervisors did. Instead, Colvin actually attempted to reduce the crime, and he did so by attempting something as outrageous as it was effective: he legalized drugs in his district. A career cop emboldened by his pending retirement, and he longed to make a real impact in the community. He ordered his troops to push all criminal elements into three largely uninhabited areas with the following caveat issued to dealers: if you're caught breaking the law anywhere outside of those three locales, there will be a harsh penalty. It was a long-view strategy to centralize the drug elements of the city, letting them operate with impunity so long as they did the least damage possible to the surrounding neighborhoods, and so long as it achieved a remarkable reduction in crime throughout the district as a whole. But it was also untenable politically. When the plan was exposed by Councilman Carcetti - ambitious to discredit Mayor Royce and his administration - Colvin was made a scapegoat, relieved of duty and forced to retire at a lieutenant's grade. Even as he was destroyed by his innovation, Colvin still managed one last act of police work, passing along a vital tip that resulted in Avon Barksdale's arrest on weapons charges.