by Erin R Flynn
“I’m sure he’d make it work. His training schedule is pretty tight, but they might be able to rework something so he has a morning or afternoon off a week. I’ll ask because that’s smart too.”
“I want to meet the guys who will do it. I know I can’t sense what you do, but I want to make sure I see in their eyes what I see in yours.” He smiled when I gave him a confused look. “The desire to do good, Chief Thomas. You hate bullies and people who make us look bad.”
“Yeah, I really, really do,” I agreed with a sigh.
But I would count the win. It was a good start to a complicated evening, and life was always a bit too complicated.
23
Friday I was seriously ready for the weekend. I now got those as the boss unless there was a murder we had to get called in on and Harris, Cooper, and Davis were out of town. But they were coming home soon, and I was thrilled about that.
So were they. Well, Cooper was ready to head to Vegas for his permanent gig, but yeah, they were ready. He’d also be training the SAiC we were going to put into regular FBI offices for our division, so all around we had a good path.
But I was ready for the weekend.
Which of course meant it was going to get all fucked up.
I blinked down at the tip that was called in right before we were about to pack up and leave. “Well, this is clearly a trap.”
“We agree,” Jennings worried, giving Shaw a glance as she took the call.
“Isn’t fifty-seven the country code for Columbia?” I asked, looking at the number the call came from.
“It is, we checked,” Shaw confirmed. “It was a male with a Hispanic sounding accent, but it was slight. Honestly, it could have been something else.”
I waved the paper. “But he said there were shifter kids being beat up at this address, right? Young kids?”
“He did. He said grade school age.”
I burst out laughing. Idiots. We didn’t have any grade school kids in Chicago because wolves had stopped having them after learning what Engle had made the daughters go through, and other species had worried he would try it with any kids they had because they couldn’t fight him off. So we now had a few pregnant, but the youngest otherwise was like fifteen? Right around there, but no grammar school kids.
“Oh, this is so a trap, but I don’t know how,” I admitted, blowing out a harsh breath.
“What do you mean, Chief?” Shaw checked.
“I don’t know if it’s so we walk into a trap and are easier to kill according to them, or if we don’t go and start shit about false tips and this phone number and the cartels. They could give us shit about racially profiling and harassing their people when it’s not our jurisdiction.”
“Yeah, I don’t think that’s the best play they could have,” Jennings muttered. “I would think they assumed using *69 or something would block the number, not knowing that doesn’t work with the FBI or some law enforcement.”
“I didn’t think of that.” I tapped my fingers on the paper while I thought about it. “So we agree then that it’s to get me out and dead, right?”
“Pretty much,” Shaw confirmed, Jennings nodding his head as well. “How do you want to play this?”
“Carefully, as we don’t know how many are there or how many we’ll kill. I don’t want to fall into a different trap later because we killed a bunch of them, but I’m also not letting anyone else get caught up in this.”
“Wear shoulder cams,” Jennings suggested. “I was going to bring that up anyways, as the last tip you went in everything went to shit. Wear the shoulder cams like police have the squad car cam and cover your asses.”
“Smart, very smart. Send Monroe a message that we want to put that into play across the board. It will help limit bullshit calls too if they know we’re recording it all.” I sighed. “Sorry, guess you’re not leaving yet.”
“Having a social life is overrated, Chief,” he chuckled.
“I have a bunch of council guard friends that would beg to be transferred to Chicago if they knew they’d get this much action instead of standing around and looking menacing,” Orson said as we got geared up. “Here I was scared you’d be boring, and I’ve not even had an itch to hunt or see action you keep us so busy.”
“I try,” I drawled. “Maybe we can get another team in LA or New York eventually, as that way you guys wouldn’t have to fly back and forth and all around again once people start realizing you’re their best chance instead of making waves.”
“That would be nice,” he agreed.
We headed out, and right before we arrived I realized I should warn some people. I sent a quick text to Brian and Monroe, even adding Deputy Director Galvin and Councilwoman Haton at the last second.
I’m pretty sure I’m about to walk into a trap with my detail set by the cartel working with the gang from the drug bust. We grabbed shoulder cams, and Jennings has the feed, but I’m not calling CPD in because we take bullets better. We got a tip from a Columbian cell number, so I’m probably going to need council transports, as we’re fairly certain this is for me as a warning or just it’s a Friday so I pissed people off.
“I have a feeling I’m going to get spanked,” I grumbled after I sent it and tucked my phone away.
“I have a feeling I’ll like watching it,” Orson chuckled. “And we will be too. The one time Carter’s not on your detail and we’re walking into a trap.”
Emilio snorted. “He’s going to kick in our heads, not spank us.”
“I’ll distract him with being shot probably,” I offered.
“Please don’t get shot,” they said together.
I snickered, glad at least we could have fun.
We arrived, and the second we opened our doors the fun started… From both sides. Well, at least they weren’t completely stupid and surrounded us.
“So it’s a trap,” I drawled as I closed the door again. “Wow, trigger happy.” I snickered as they shot up my armor plated SUV. “Someone else better pay for this damage.”
“They shot my fucking ankle,” Orson snarled as he dug out the bullet.
“Well, that wouldn’t have happened if we had a southern border wall.”
The three in the SUV with me gave me crazy looks, but it was Emilio who spoke. “You’re kidding, right? You don’t think that stupid fucking idea would really do shit, do you?”
“Fuck no,” I chuckled as I pulled my weapon and got ready to head out. “It’s a waste of money and completely stupid. They probably flew in. I’d rather donate a million dollars so TSA agents got paid better—what they should—instead of let one tax dollar go to some fucking wall that won’t do shit.”
“Yeah, they get paid what we do,” Emilio drawled. “It’s fairly insulting.”
“Yeah, I know,” I reminded him, knowing I was the lowest paid division chief the FBI had. Officially. Division Chief Gere had called to thank me for recommending him after I’d come home and had told me what salary he’d gotten, neither of us happy he made more than me. Apparently it was decided he deserved it running a big office in New York.
Right, we were the hub of our division, and my office was in nowhere cornfields. Assholes.
We counted down, and apparently the other SUV on my detail was of the same opinion on how to handle this, as they went seconds before we did. Which drew their fire, so I was pretty certain they did that so I could get out faster.
Because the fuckers had a goddamn rocket launcher.
“Oh, I’m shooting someone in the nuts,” I seethed as my SUV blew up. I wondered if it would have bounced off the armor plating, but we’d left the doors open instead of wasting precious time to close them. My hesitation got me a bullet in the arm, but luckily it wasn’t my right arm since that was my shooting hand and the bullet wasn’t gold.
I had low standards of what “lucky” was, it seemed. I turned and shot the guy as I flipped out of the way of his friend who was firing.
“You are definitely the target,” Emilio bitch
ed as he took one to the vest blocking me.
“Clearly,” I growled as I fired off a few more shots. I couldn’t even hear heartbeats over all the gunfire. My eyes went wide as I saw the fucking machine gun with belt ammo that would tear through even us. “Take cover!” I grabbed Emilio and about threw him behind an abandoned building.
They’d picked the spot well, using an empty parking lot in a bad neighborhood and taking up positions in the buildings around us. However, there were buildings around us, so we had angles to hide and not take cover.
“Shit, we’ve got two hit where they’re aiming,” Orson hissed as he joined us.
“Go, now,” I ordered, shoving them when they hesitated. They went, and I saw there was more than one big ass gun they were bringing out. How the fuck did they not have it ready?
How the fuck had they gotten it into the country?
“Fuck this,” I snarled. I tossed down my guns, loosened my vest, and took off my holster before shifting into my third form and launching through a window on the second floor of the next building. I moved under where the machine gun was and went out the window on that side, climbing up the side of it.
It worked because the building was old and had missing chunks of concrete or something for me to grab onto instead of smooth walls. I flipped into the right window—which was open for me, so less glass cutting me—and yanked the first guy out so he fell to the ground below. I got two others that way and then shifted back, smirking that they’d just loaded the machine gun for me.
Thanks, guys.
I took aim at the other building that had one and fired, not trying to hit them but get them away from the gun that could hurt even us badly and tearing up the building in the process. I got shot in the left shoulder from behind, and I shifted, darting out of their view and circling back to smash in his face and take his weapon along with his friend.
Two more were coming up the stairs and dove towards the staircase, rolling and sliding so when they were visible I went right past them as I got onto my feet. I shoved both of them into the wall hard enough to knock them out. And I mean they were out. Honestly, I didn’t know if they’d wake back up, but it was still better than risking they’d survive a cut from my claws and become one of us.
Yeah, not good.
That was it in this building, and people were still firing, so I raced to the far side of the floor and leapt out the window, landing just short of the window of the next building. Ouch. Really, ouch. I instead hit the concrete right below it.
Fucking ouch.
I shook it off, flipped up into the window I’d wanted, and kicked three guys shooting together. They went out the other window, so at least that had worked.
It also left me asking how many fucking guys did they have? Did they fly a 747 in privately with family and friends? Seriously? I wouldn’t be the only one taking people out like this, so how many did they have?
My thoughts were interrupted when a grenade came through the window. Mother. Fuckers. I caught it and launched it back where they were still firing from. It went off just at the window, so I probably didn’t get them, but that would be one fucking headache for them or at least knock them over.
It didn’t screw with my hearing though, so I could tell there were ten on the floor above me. There was actually a very convenient hole in the floor, so I grabbed one of the weapons dropped when I’d kicked the three out of the building and shifted back. I ran towards the wall and kicked off, flipping up through the hole and onto the next floor.
Aiming as I landed, I got three before they even noticed me. I got two more as I rolled and kept shooting. That got me a bullet in the ass, which did not improve my mood for sure. I clipped one and got another before Orson appeared and took out the last three.
“They’re everywhere,” he snarled, his fangs out and eyes full of power. “Did they offer vacations to all of Columbia if they shot at you?”
I snorted, having thought something similar and just as snarky. “Apparently they weren’t taking chances after how many we took out in New York that tried to get us after breakfast.”
“The others are fine, healed, and back to it,” he told me when I opened my mouth to ask just that.
I wasn’t sure what I was going to say, but we got another grenade. He went for it this time, and I continued on, racing up the stairs, as this building was taller than the one next to it so I could jump to the roof.
I didn’t want to do it, it would undoubtedly hurt, but I could.
And I did, shifting several steps before I jumped.
And it did hurt. I groaned as I skidded on gravel, banging my left arm and shoulder that had two bullets on top of it. I ripped off the door to get downstairs, and bullets hit it instead of me from wherever they were still shooting from.
“I want hazard pay if we get war zones as part of our job,” I growled as I brought the door with me like a metal shield instead of riot gear.
It ended up being a good idea because they must have heard me on the roof since they were already shooting at the door to the stairs as I came out of it. I ended up being a great distraction as a few of the ancients raced around the room and handled the group of fifteen.
“Seriously, how many do they have?” I demanded, still hearing gun shots. “Get all the rats. None flee the ship. We end this now. Disarm and restrain if you can, but only if it’s safe and you’re not being shot at.”
“Yes, boss,” Orson chuckled, and then we took off again.
I got two to the vest and thought to kiss Reagan later for thinking of making the new vests with larger adjustment capabilities so I could still wear it if I had to shift. I adored smart people, and smart men were incredibly sexy to me.
“Oh fuck,” I shouted when a grenade went off on the floor above me. I dove out of the way as fast as I could, but a chunk of the floor got me hard in the back. “That’s going to bruise like a bitch. Fuck. No good deed goes unpunished or apparently doesn’t get thrown grenades at. Ass. Holes.”
I glanced around for my best exit, but I felt humans coming in the building, so I headed for the stairs to go back down. I moved faster than they could keep up with and knocked them out one after another, several by throwing guns I picked up at their heads. Hey, there were eleven of them.
It worked.
My head snapped around at the gun fire that sounded about a block away. Racing for the door, I cursed as I saw CPD had arrived and were taking fire, one already hit but alive. I went right for the shooters, launching onto a fire escape one story up and scrambling up it until I was at the right floor. Another dive through a window and I came out right by five shooters.
And got a bullet from CPD in my side. I groaned and swore a bit as I knocked out the rest of them… Well, one I was pretty sure was permanently out by the angle of his neck, but whatever. More sirens were coming and fast, and I didn’t want any more of the humans on our side getting shot. I raced up the stairs and found two more that I took care of before not hearing more shots.
I waited a few beats for the echoes to dissipate. “We clear?”
“Not sure,” Emilio called back. “Regroup by CPD and we can sweep. Are you shot?”
“Would you believe me if I said no?”
“No!” several people shouted back.
“Then don’t ask,” I bitched as I headed for the window, glad when CPD wasn’t aimed at me. I went back for the fire escape and dropped onto it, but it was so old and in shit shape that it caved under my weight and I fell through to the next floor.
And then that caved in as well.
I ended up falling three stories one at a time that way, and then that last one didn’t have the fire escape, which was why I had to jump up. I groaned as I held my right arm, knowing it was broken.
“Wolf down, wolf down,” I coughed as I tried to get more air in my lungs. “They had to shoot me in the ass when I would land on it. Mother. Fuckers.” I shifted back, my wolf needing a rest, and I was glad I’d been dressed to work out, and while m
y undergarments were trashed, the stretch shirt and yoga pants were hanging on even if split at a few seams.
“Get her out of range,” Orson called over a second before Emilio darted over to me and brought me behind the CPD barrier.
“Get the humans back,” I ordered.
“We’re safe, Chief Thomas,” someone called over. “We came to get the perimeter, and someone got clipped when they were fleeing.”
“I’m in so much trouble,” I grumbled as Emilio started digging for bullets.
“Yeah, well, maybe they won’t notice the bullet holes if we get them fast,” he offered.
“You’re both wearing shoulder cams,” Brian shouted from behind me.
“Oh, hey, it survived all of that,” I muttered as I realized it was still on my vest. “Crap, I cussed a lot.” I giggled, actually giggled, blinking at Emilio.
He smirked at me. “You shifted back and forth a bunch of times. Most can’t even do that once, and you did several shifts. Yeah, you’re gonna go on a really good ride.”
“Well, that’s not in the wolfie brochure,” I snickered and then giggled when I saw Brian standing over me. “They shot me in the ass.” I groaned as my arm healed. “I didn’t break my arm from the fight, I swear.”
“I know. I pulled up to watch you fall from four fucking stories through a shit fire escape,” he whispered as he squatted down.
“Don’t, she’s still bleeding,” Emilio told him as he yanked the bullet out of my back. “Ah-ha, got it.”
“Can you get the one on my side. It hurts to breathe,” I admitted.
“Shit, tell me that first, Sera,” he growled.
“Sort of hurt all over after the fire escape.”
“And the floor collapsing on you.”
“Hey, you guys act like I’m the only one who gets hurt,” I griped.
“No, I got shot five times. I’m just so used to digging out bullets I can get my own and heal faster than you do.” He flipped me over and got the last two, standing and showing me the bullet holes and leftover blood. “Granted, two were through and throughs. You tend to get bullets lodged.”
