“But I’d hate to lose you, Chloe. You’re good. Really good. I need you here. We’ve made great progress in a short time with the Kowalski drug cartel. You’ve been able to infiltrate their online communications, their shipping routes, bank accounts. We’re so close to shutting them down for good. I’m working with another team here in Baltimore on the preparations for a sting. Two weeks is our goal.”
Chloe’s eyebrows shot up. “Two weeks? That soon? I guess you need to brief me and catch me up to date.”
She didn’t tell Liam that she often found excuses to be away from the office, anything to avoid him. It was just too hard to be around him. And it hurt to hide her depth of feelings toward him.
Liam cleared his throat and opened a file folder. “We always knew where the shipping route was, the neighborhood, even the exact house by interviewing neighbors who began reporting late-night activity to the local police.”
“Sounds like they’re getting too cocky that they have everyone fooled. Confidence breeds mistakes.”
“Things really skyrocketed when we got one of our best undercover guys living in a basement apartment nearby. And now we have a name. Kowalski! The Jax Kowalski cartel. Who would have thought a Venezuelan drug lord would have a grandfather from Poland, despite being born and raised by his grandmother in Venezuela?”
“The guy even has light skin,” Chloe added. “Although my informants say his eyes are black as midnight and pure evil. Problem is, he’s got a wife and kids living there as well as his brothers—who are part of the ring.”
“A drug raid is going to be dangerous,” Liam said quietly. “I’m trying to figure out a time when the wife and kids aren’t at home. Our undercover man is trying to obtain that information now. Before Mr. Kowalski starts to get skittish and shuts down his operation, or goes further underground.”
Shifting in her chair, Chloe thought about the tension and nerves—the sheer gut pain—it was to prepare for a raid. Especially with men like Jax, who was most likely armed to the teeth. “Yeah, it will be dangerous. I’ll just pretend it’s Hogan’s Alley. But maybe I’ll be out of here before then.”
“Transfers take much longer to process than two weeks. Besides, Chloe,” Liam added. “I’m the one who should transfer, not you. I’ve been part of the bureau longer than you have. It probably doesn’t look good to ask for a transfer after just three months.”
“Right now is extremely convenient since I’m looking for a new apartment to rent. The one that Jenna and I share is too big if I was on my own. And Frank is moving in after the wedding—only a month away. I want something smaller. But if I’m going to move, I figured why not change field offices at the same time.”
“But why?” Liam said, asking the question that neither of them had addressed. It was the elephant in the room. The dead body in the living room.
“You know why, Liam. I’m in love with you. Desperately.”
“And I love you, Chloe. Maybe even more desperately.” Liam’s voice had dropped, as he moved toward her.
“You’d better stay where you are behind that safe desk, Agent,” Chloe warned, a burning sensation pricking behind her eyes. “I don’t have much control when it comes to you.”
“The feeling is mutual. It’s all I can do not to rush you right now and sweep you up in my arms.”
Chloe made a sound in her throat. A mix of a moan and a whimper. “Being assigned together wasn’t fair. I wish I were in small-town Montana catching cattle thieves.”
“We had the skills the bureau wanted for this office.”
“And we didn’t have a choice. But maybe, I do now. If I don’t get out of here—around you—I may not be responsible for my actions.”
“Oh, Chloe,” Liam groaned, putting his head in his hands. “I’m sorry. Maybe I should never have wandered out into the nighttime at the lake. I should never have held you under the willow tree.”
“Sir,” a voice said behind Chloe’s chair.
It was Barbara just opening the office door. Chloe got busy pulling some papers out of her purse while brushing at her leaking eyes, hoping the office manager hadn’t heard Liam’s words. “You have a phone call from Rob at the stake-out location.”
Nodding, Liam reached for the phone, his eyes grazing Chloe’s face. “I gotta take this. Stay here, okay? I have some more I want to say—tell you.”
Abruptly rising from her chair, Chloe strode toward the outer door. “I’m going to at least fill out the paperwork. I won’t turn it in until after the raid. But wow, it’s almost Christmas time. Bad time for a raid.”
“Better than watching Jax and his brothers disappear during Christmas break when his kids are out of school. We’ve been almost two years getting to this point. And within three months of you and Jenna’s work, we got him. Right now, he’s a sitting duck.”
Liam picked up the phone. They still kept a secure landline on the premises. “Rob, hang on a second. Agent Romano is just leaving, and I need to tell her one more thing.”
He put his hand over the receiver, but Chloe spoke over him. “I have a question first. Why do you need me and Jenna to help during the raid anyway? Won’t you have SWAT there—and local Baltimore special operations cops?”
“Yes, but you know the layout of the house. You know Jax’s personality and profile better than anyone. And by the end of Quantico’s training, you and Jenna were at top performance levels when it came to raids and sweeps. You’re both fresh off Quantico. Young and fast and strong. I want you both there.”
“Okay, sir,” Chloe replied, keeping an impassive expression as she headed out of Liam’s office. But her gut wrenched at the idea of a cartel raid. The real deal with ruthless guys that wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger and blow you into the next county.
Chapter 14
~ Two Weeks Later ~
It was a week before Christmas. Two weeks before Jenna’s wedding, and here they were getting dressed in the basement apartment of their undercover spy.
Dale Holmes—if that was his real name—was a bear of a man with a bushy beard and eyebrows to match who looked like he spent all of his time playing Dungeons and Dragons in his parent’s basement.
In reality, Dale was staked-out here, pretending to go to a night job shelving products at Wal-Mart while actually surveilling the neighborhood. Specifically, Jax Kowalski’s house.
The entire team had been on pins and needles for days waiting for the call to go in. Dale had called late that afternoon.
Chloe got a brief encrypted phone call from Liam via her cell phone. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “I was hoping y’all had decided to wait until after the holidays,” she added, going into a nervous southern drawl.
“Found out he’s moving out. This weekend. It’s gotta be tonight or never.”
“Why?”
“Cash drop,” Liam said in brief, short sentences. “Unknown guys crawling all over the place.”
Thirty minutes later, the team had arrived one by one, moving into Dale’s apartment under cover of darkness—by front and rear doors—without speaking or making a sound.
A dust of snow was falling lightly, which meant nobody was out. The temps were supposed to drop that night so there wouldn’t be any activity in the neighborhood. With the early darkness, it also meant people were home by the heater watching TV. Or Christmas shopping.
“I wish we were Christmas shopping,” Chloe said to Jenna as she pulled on her black undergarments and then pants and pullover knit shirt over her bullet proof vest. Helmets, night goggles, and headsets went on last.
There was a team at the end of the street in a van with blackout curtains ready to do reconnaissance when they went into the cartel’s house.
“Did you hear where the family is?” Chloe asked Jenna, knowing she had arrived first. “Please tell me they’re not at home. Liam promised, but this all happened so suddenly. I was worried.”
Jenna’s expression had sobered although she attempted a sideways smile. “Iro
nically, they’re Christmas shopping and then headed to a Christmas program at the school. Last day of school is tomorrow; then the holiday break begins. We have two hours before they’re due home.”
“Makes sense. Poor kids. Coming home to a house riddled with bullet holes, probably.” Chloe paused. “That’s probably what we’re facing, you know.”
Jenna shook her head optimistically. “Don’t think the worst. We’re taking them by surprise. I’ll bet the fighting is kept to a minimum. Maybe a few fists and punches, but no shooting. Besides, gunfire would wake up the neighbors,” she added facetiously.
“Ha-ha. Where’s Frank tonight?”
“I think he’s buying me something special for under the tree. Although he may just be picking up our tickets for our honeymoon in Maui. He rented a condo on our own private beach.”
“A tropical island sounds heavenly when snow is falling outside.”
“I’d invite you to tag along, but you know. We’ll be doing honeymoon stuff.”
“Not sure I’ll ever get a honeymoon,” Chloe said despondently.
“Did your transfer request go through.?”
“I turned in the paperwork, but who knows? It could be immediately rejected—or just sit on someone’s desk for the next six months.”
“Is it that bad working with Liam?”
“Imagine if it was Frank, and you could never touch him. Never even hold his hand. It’s excruciating, the longing and aching. If I stay, I’ll go crazy. But Liam told me that he’s filling out transfer paper, too. Guess we may both end up on opposite ends of the country.”
“Do FBI agents every marry?” Jenna asked. “I think there have been some, right?”
“But not a team leader with a subordinate. And not while they’re working in the same field office. It’s too distracting to the entire team. Plus, conflicts of interest. Morale. Temptations for special treatment. I understand it, I just don’t like being so close to Liam, and yet so very, very far. As if I’m in complete limbo, with no future at all.”
“Oh, Chloe, I know it’s been tough. I’ve heard you weeping sometimes, you know. And I feel guilty to be so happy with Frank and getting married in ten days.”
“Hey, you and Frank have been a couple for almost three years, it’s about time you got married! I’m happy for you, Jenna. I really am. And you’d better name your first child after me.”
“Only if it’s a girl.”
“Deal.” Chloe sat on the edge of a chair to pull on her black boots. “At least if I was sent to Idaho, we’d be able to talk on a regular basis. Like how a guy calls a girl that he likes?” Chloe gave a laugh. “And he could visit me on his vacation time. And we could go on things called ‘dates’.”
Thirty minutes later, the team of twelve FBI agents and a SWAT team of another eight split up into groups, each one taking a door or a window of the house. The residence was mostly dark, except for a small light at the back of the house.
Chloe was impressed at how quiet and stealthy twenty people could be—moving swiftly around corners, making no sound with their boots, light on their feet.
Liam assigned her and Jenna to the side kitchen door, giving Chloe’s hand a single, hard squeeze. “Keep me informed through your headset,” he told her.
Standing flat against the siding of the older house, Chloe and Jenna took turns peering into the darkened window and using hand signals to communicate.
A moment later Liam returned, whispering. “Intel says there are only three males in the house. We’ve surrounded the property and have several guys on the roof. We’re going in the front door. Countdown from sixty and then breach this door and clear the room.”
Chloe nodded, glanced at Jenna who confirmed that she had heard the instructions; then Agent Esposito was gone, just a shadow in the still night. With a nod, Jenna held up both hands to start a countdown, then dropped them to grip her rifle.
Chloe patted her hip where she had her Glock and then her boot where she had a knife sheathed on her calf. Finally, she tightened her hold on her own rifle, checked the shaft, and got ready to pull the trigger if she needed to.
All at once, from around the front of the house, she heard four of their guys swarm the front door. An echoing pounding came from someone’s fist. “FBI! Open the door!” ordered the agent.
Two quick seconds passed then more pounding, deep and bellowing in the quiet neighborhood. It was Liam’s voice. “FBI! Open the door! We have a warrant!”
Chloe heard some quick conversation, then one final demand.
Jenna jerked her hand up at the same time sixty seconds had elapsed. Shouts sounded above them from the roof. “Going in! Go, go, go!”
Chloe twisted the doorknob. It was locked. She let out a curse word. Without conferring with each other, she and Jenna took the butts of their rifles and broke the window glass of the side door; then Chloe reached in and turned the interior knob. The door burst open then, and she and Jenna were inside. Thankfully, her eyes had already adjusted to the darkness, and her night goggles helped.
She swept her head from side to side, as she and Jenna darted along the walls, clearing what appeared to be the laundry and utility room. Which was empty. Empty of everything. No washer or dryer, no tools, soap boxes, muddy shoes, or piles of the usual family paraphernalia found in a utility room. Only the plumbing sticking out from the wall and dirty shelving.
Jenna’s voice was low and hoarse. “Doesn’t look good.”
Chloe nodded, then spoke into her headset. “They’ve been clearing this place out. They knew we were coming.”
“Copy that,” Liam’s voice crackled.
Rifles in locked and loaded position, they approached the doorway that led into the kitchen—eyes constantly roving, weapons sweeping the corners and perimeter.
It was incredibly dark. Darker than a normal kitchen should have been with windows facing the street and the neighborhood streetlights.
When Jenna lifted a finger to point toward the adjoining breakfast-nook, corner windows, Chloe realized what it was. Jax Kowalski and his drug lords had taped cardboard over all the windows.
After clearing the kitchen and determining that nobody was hiding in the walk-in pantry or cupboards, Chloe took note of the emptiness. Dishes were gone. Only a few canned goods in the pantry. Just clutter and a couple of left-behind dirty glasses in the sink.
After all their detective work over the past few months, she wanted to scream in frustration. Nobody was here.
Throughout the rest of the house and on the second floor, she could hear the rest of the teams sweeping, checking, and then slamming doors.
Jenna gave a start when blood-curdling screams sounded overhead. Scuffles, pounding, and something that sounded like bodies banging into walls.
Chloe caught Jenna’s eyes. SWAT had found someone hiding. Male voices were screaming and babbling while the agents were yelling over everyone, attempting to subdue the ruckus.
Chloe moved to the hallway that led to the living area. A dirty piece of carpet and one broken couch was all that remained.
Stumbling down the staircase with its rickety hand railing, two SWAT guys held two men, who looked to be in their mid twenties, in handcuffs. The familiar Miranda Rights were being read aloud. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney . . .”
But the two criminals were having none of it. They were struggling and bumping into the stairwell walls. One kicked an officer—who gave him a gut punch, but it wasn’t stopping them.
Looked like they might be high on something. They were wiry little thugs, but PCP made them strong and crazy.
By the time they reached the bottom of the staircase, one of them kicked at the railing, breaking it into smithereens and splintering the wood.
Two more SWAT guys tackled them, taking them down to the floor where they continued to fight, while another two agents held them down.
Finally, one of
them pulled out a taser and pointed it at the guy—who began to jerk from the electricity, yelling profanities a mile a minute on the living room floor.
“Where’s Jax?” the SWAT leader demanded of the second guy—who was holding up his hands and begging not to be tased.
“Not here, not here,” he kept repeating, eyes rolling in his head.
Liam stepped forward. “I don’t believe you.” He pushed the man’s face to the concrete floor. “Tell us where Jax is before we beat the crap out of you.”
“He left, he left, I promise!”
“And we’re leaving you here to rot,” Agent Esposito said grimly. “Unless you cooperate.”
“They didn’t tell me where they went,” the young man pleaded.
“You’re lying. We’ve been watching this house for days. He never left. Only his wife and kids.”
“What if he disguised himself with them?”
Dale, dressed in his SWAT gear and fatigues, shook his head, pursing his lips in frustration. “Not possible. Definitely three young kids and a woman. A good-looking woman. We had confirmation they were at the school program, too.”
“Rogers!” Liam suddenly yelled to another agent down one of the bedroom hallways. “There a basement in this house?”
A male voice shouted back. “Can’t find any stairs down, but the map of the house shows that there should be.”
“It’s gotta be concealed. Look in all the closets. Under the beds. Rip up the carpets! Tear out the bathtub! They’ve hidden the staircase. Bet they’re down there.”
“Down there laughing at us,” another guy said. “But they can’t escape either.”
“But what if they have?’ Chloe said, not realizing that she was speaking her thoughts out loud. “Before we got here. Obviously, they were tipped off somehow. Or got spooked. Didn’t you notice that this place has been stripped? Women and children haven’t been living here for at least a week.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Liam said.
There was a brief pause while local police showed up at the front door to take the tasered guy and his buddy away in a patrol car.
The FBI Bride: An Undercover Bridesmaid Romance Page 11
