Charlie Foxtrot

by Lani Lynn Vale

She laughed breathlessly.

  “Put me down, you big oaf!”

  “Yes, ma’am!”

  Then I threw her across the room, relishing in the scream that came out of her mouth before she hit the bed.

  “You’re so dead,” she declared a few minutes later after I got out of the bathroom.

  “You haven’t moved yet,” I said, walking over to the closet and pulling my Kevlar vest out.

  I turned and watched her watch me as I put my vest on, her eyes studied my movements as I fit the vest to where it’d sit most comfortably.

  “My daddy’s is black,” she said.

  I nodded. “My department issued one is, too. But I’ve taken a liking to this one.”

  “Why? It looks kind of ratty, to be honest,” she said, sitting up onto her elbows, letting her feet hang off the bed as she did so.

  I pointed to the signature in the bottom right corner of my vest.

  “I got this one about three years ago. It was my last year as a SEAL,” I explained. “That’s my brother’s signature. I did the same for him. It was stupid,” I shrugged. “But I’m a superstitious man. I use what I know will work.”

  “You don’t trust the ones you got from the police department?” She asked, standing up all the way.

  She really did look ridiculous, but she looked pretty hot, too.

  “Yes, I do. It’s just not mine.” I hesitated before sitting down on the bed. “Are you sure you’re allowed to wear that to work?”

  She grinned. “I guess we’ll see.”

  ***

  Blake

  I slipped out of the truck, landing on my feet with a slight thunk.

  My feet crunched in the gravel as I turned to close the door.

  Foster was just rounding the truck when the first person saw what I was wearing.

  “I shouldn’t have worn this,” I muttered to myself.

  “What’d you say?” Foster asked as he met me on my side of his truck.

  I didn’t say anything as I turned to face the man walking towards us.

  If you could call him a man at all.

  “Hey,” David said. “I’m glad to see that you’re okay.”

  I shrugged and turned to walk into the building, more than ready to get away from the stupid man in front of me.

  The one at my back, though, was a different story.

  I could stay in his arms all day long.

  He also did really well at keeping me from wanting to punch David in the nose. Mostly by distracting me, and distract me he did once we reached the top of the steps.

  I hadn’t realized that he’d followed me as close as he had, because the moment my hand touched the door handle, it was suddenly gone.

  Then, as if in a real life Disney movie, he swept me up into his arms and kissed me silly.

  I whore moaned, leaning into him and threading my arms around his neck.

  My fingers buried in what little hair he had, and the feel of his gun digging into my hip did nothing to my raging libido that was on hyper drive after last night

  “Have a good shift,” he said breathlessly. “I’ll see you when you get off. Don’t go out for lunch.”

  With that, he dropped me to my feet, walked to the door, and ushered me inside.

  Dazedly, I walked inside, not surprised in the least to find the entire station oohing and ahhing over our display.

  “That a boy, Crush!” Someone yelled from the back of the station.

  Foster didn’t acknowledge anyone, as was his way.

  I, on the other hand, said hi to at least fifteen people before I finally made it back to dispatch offices.

  “That was some show!” Pauline crowed the moment I walked inside.

  I shook my head.

  “How’d you even see it?” I asked.

  “Get to work, ladies,” an annoyed man’s voice said from the doorway.

  I resisted the urge to bug my eyes out at Pauline as I dropped into my chair and put on my headset.

  “Alright, ladies! Let’s make this a good one!” Our boss, Bradley, said.

  I hadn’t made my mind up yet when it came to Bradley.

  He was a smart man, and a police officer.

  Or had been before he’d gotten hurt.

  Now he had to have a permanent desk job because his leg wouldn’t allow him to do the normal daily living activities most women and men did daily without realizing it.

  He was pushy, and thought he was better than everyone else.

  He was the same thing that we were. Dispatchers.

  My phone rang and I forgot all about Bradley.

  I wouldn’t think about him until much later.

  At the end of my shift, to be exact.

  ***

  “Unit 4 responding to a 10-46,” Foster’s voice came in over the radio.

  I shivered.

  Jesus, the man was sexy.

  Even his voice sounded sexy.

  It was going on our seven and a half of my eight hour shift, and I was so ready to be at Foster’s place it wasn’t even funny. The lack of sleep last night was really getting to me. I would kill for a nap right now.

  I was also looking forward to doing other things, too.

  Thirty more minutes. Thirty more minutes.

  I kept chanting the words to myself, praying that I could stay awake.

  It’d been dead all night, and this was the first time I’d actually heard Foster’s voice over the radio the entire time.

  “10-4, unit 4,” I said, keeping the line open as I waited for him to help the stranded motorist.

  10-46, I’d learned, was when a motorist was stranded in a broken down car. That, or the car was abandoned all together.

  Long minutes passed as I checked out my nails, wondering if I should get a pedicure before this weekend.

  I’d agreed to go with Foster to attend a party that his brother was throwing for their little girl’s third birthday.

  I was fairly sure they wouldn’t care what my nails looked like, but…

  A garbled, muffled sound abruptly echoed through my headset, and I looked up, staring blankly at my monitor.

  I wasn’t really sure what I was hearing.

  It almost sounded like a…

  Bang. Bang. Bang.

  Gunshots didn’t sound like I’d thought they’d sound, but they were unique nonetheless.

  “Unit 4, 10-101?” I fairly screamed.

  I could see Pauline stand in my peripheral vision, but she stayed there, waiting for my go.

  More scuffling sounded and I heard the labored breathing of someone before Foster’s strained voice said, “Need help.”

  “Pauline, he needs backup,” I said urgently, before my fingers started to flow over the keyboards, putting in information, dispatching units, and alerting those who needed to know.

  My heart, however, was freakin’ pounding.

  My stomach was roiling, and I felt wetness hitting my cheeks, letting me know that I was crying.

  I didn’t let that stop me from doing my job, though.

  Scuffling continued to sound, and then one more shot rang out.

  Then nothing.

  Absolutely nothing.

  I was so scared that Foster was dead, that when his voice came back on the radio, I visibly wilted in my seat.

  “Unit 4, 10-106,” Foster growled breathlessly. “I’ll need an ambulance for the man that just tried to shoot me in the face.”

  I dispatched the ambulance, alerted other officers, and then promptly threw up.

  I dashed for the trashcan across the room, barely making it in time before I lost my lunch.

  Jesus Christ on a cracker, the man had scared the absolute shit out of me.

  I made it back to my seat, eyes glazed, and collapsed into it.

  My head hit the desk, and I started to cry silently.

  “Take a break, Rhodes,” Bradley ordered. “And good job.”

  I ignored him, going back to my Solitaire game I’d been playing before the call had
come in, but I wasn’t into it.

  I lost.

  Badly.

  My mind was a jumbling roil of emotions as I waited for the clock to strike eight.

  Once I’d heard that Foster had made it back to the station, I gave Pauline a wave and vaulted out of my chair, forgetting completely that I was connected to the headset.

  It yanked off my head once I’d reached the limit on its length, and slammed against the desk in my wake.

  I didn’t stop, though.

  Instead, I kept going, running through the doors to the bull pen, and straight through the lobby outside.

  I saw him there, talking to his brother, and I didn’t stop to think.

  I just launched myself into his arms, holding him to me tightly.

  He took a step back, the SUV at his back stopping him from going any further, and gathered me to him.

  After I kissed him, I started to berate him.

  “You scared the absolute shit out of me!” I yelled loudly into his face.

  He grinned weakly. “Yeah, I see that. It seems to be a trend tonight,” he said as he looked over my shoulder at his brother.

  His hands were resting on my ass, holding me up, so I twisted and looked at Miller.

  He was looking at his brother with relief, love, and a little bit of annoyance.

  He kissed my forehead, and then let me slip down to my feet before he said, “Do you mind hanging with Miller here while I go talk to the chief?”

  I looked at him suspiciously, but nonetheless nodded and said, “Sure.”

  “I’ll be done quickly. Just need to give him a report of what happened, and then go from there, okay?” He confirmed.

  I nodded again, and he disappeared into the building.

  “So…” I said, looking at his brother once the door shut behind Foster. “What do you think really happened?”

  He winked at me. “That’s the twenty three thousand dollar question.”

  ***

  Foster

  “He was waiting for me,” I said to the chief. “I know it like I know my last name’s Spurlock.”

  The chief sighed and leaned back into his seat, rubbing his eyes with his hands. “Tell me why you think that. From what I gathered from the cops that questioned him, you startled him…or so he says.”

  I shook my head.

  “I passed that same freakin’ street ten times tonight. You told me to watch for the party that we suspected would be taking place, and so I kept running different routes, practically making a figure eight,” I said. “I saw that man on the first street and didn’t think anything of it. Then he moved to the next street I was on. After the fifth time I saw him, I finally pulled up.”

  He nodded, motioning with his hand for me to continue.

  “I didn’t actually see him until I walked up to the car. He was lying in the backseat, fully dressed. When I asked him to step out, he did. Peacefully. Then when I started to walk back to the cruiser with his license and registration, he moved. If I hadn’t turned back around to ask him a question about his license, he would’ve shot me in the back of the head.”

  “Jesus, what a clusterfuck,” Chief Rhodes said tiredly.

  I nodded. “A Charlie Foxtrot indeed.”

  “Well you’ll be glad to know that the mobile fingerprinting unit got a match on him. For quite a few offenses, in fact. Only one of which being the print we pulled from Blake’s house and the break-in a few weeks ago,” the Chief said.

  My teeth gritted, and suddenly I didn’t feel so bad about shooting him in the belly three times with his own gun.

  “Has he said anything?” I asked forcefully.

  The chief shook his head once. “Nada. I have Greer on it, though. If there’s anything to find, Greer will let me know.”

  I rubbed my chest, feeling a bruise already forming from where the bullet had slammed into my Kevlar vest.

  “What’s that on your…foot?” The Chief asked when he stood.

  I looked down at my foot and grimaced.

  “I think it’s skin,” I said. “He fell on it.”

  The Chief’s expression soured. “That’s just…disgusting.”

  He handed me a disinfectant wipe out of the tub he kept at the corner of his desk.

  “Get that cleaned up. I can tell you from experience that Blake pukes at the sight of blood,” he said.

  I bent down and scrubbed the blood and bits of…stuff, off my prosthesis. Then threw the towel in the trash next to The Chief’s desk.

  Wiping my hands with some hand sanitizer, I stood and looked at him.

  “This all has to do with her, doesn’t it?” I asked point blank.

  He shrugged. “Best guess, yes. I just don’t know what she’s done to warrant it. That doesn’t mean that I won’t be finding out, though.”

  I nodded.

  “Well, she won’t be leaving my sight, that’s for sure.”

  As I exited the chief’s office I heard him say, “I never doubted you would. Just make sure you state your intentions to Shank before you get too involved with her.”

  That was something I really, really didn’t want to do.

  Not that I didn’t plan on having Blake as my own, because I did. But because I didn’t want to talk to that man period until I had this situation ironed out.

  Would I talk to him anyway? Yes.

  Would I enjoy it? Fuck no.

  Chapter 17

  Who lit the fuse on your tampon?

  -T-shirt

  Foster

  I opened the door to my apartment, not surprised in the least to see Blake’s father standing on my doorstep.

  Blake had fallen asleep on the couch during the movie I’d insisted we watch, and had been sleeping for over an hour.

  Not wanting to wake her, because I knew exactly where this conversation was going, I grabbed my gun from the coffee table, shoved it in the back of my pants, and met him in the hallway.

  He watched my movements with the eyes of a trained officer.

  Someone that had been there and done that so many times that they could anticipate the movements of another officer before it was even done.

  His eyes, though, stalled on the body of his daughter as she laid on the couch, and his eyes snapped to mine, all of a sudden furious.

  I hurried outside before he could start demanding answers, closing it behind me before I leaned against the wall and waited for it.

  “Why’s she been crying?” Lou demanded.

  I sighed.

  Then started telling him about my night, followed by what the chief had told me before I’d left.

  “Fuck me,” he said, turning around to pace back and forth in the hallway. “I haven’t found shit. I’ve pulled every goddamned marker I had, and still have nothing to show for it. I’m going to have to dig deeper.”

  I didn’t doubt that the man had markers. I also expected that he had a lot of the criminal underground in his back pockets.

  You didn’t stay a cop for as long as he had and not know a few criminals that you could call on if you needed them.

  “I have a couple of computer savants working on it through a buddy of mine. I also have my brother’s club president working on it from his end,” I said.

  “Silas Mackenzie?” He asked, surprised.

  I nodded, not surprised that he knew the men associated with my brother. I was fairly positive he had a file twelve inches thick on me and my family.

  “How’d…never mind. I’m sure I don’t want to know,” I said, shaking my head. “He was…is CIA, I think. I haven’t really been able to figure out exactly what he is. I’m not sure he ever got out. Anyway, I digress. He’s pulling anything he knows about Bryson Bullard, the man that tried to shoot me tonight.”

  The Shank came out to play, then.

  He pulled out his phone and dialed a number, not looking at me as he started talking low into the phone.

  I couldn’t make out much of his conversation, but what I did hear, I knew was definitely on
the opposite side of the line that one tried not to cross as an officer of the law.

  “I don’t care what you have to do, you stupid son of a bitch. Either you get him to talk, or I will, and you really, really won’t like it,” he hissed before he hung up.

  My brows raised as he turned around and stared blankly at me.

  “What’d you just do?” I asked curiously.

  He smiled.

  “A daddy has a duty to his daughter. If she’s hurt, I’m hurt. I’m not going to fucking fail in this. It’ll be over my dead body that she’ll have to endure another day like two days ago. She’d be dead and gone right now if it wasn’t for your friends,” he growled. “Now, you do your job protecting my girl, and I’ll do mine.”

  With that cryptic comment, he turned and started down the hall.

  His wide, strong shoulders bunched with tension as he went.

  “Lou?” I called to his retreating back.

  He froze, and turned around slowly.

  “No,” he said. “You haven’t known her long enough yet.”

  I grinned. “You realize that’s not going to stop me, right? That I do plan on doing it whether I have your permission or not. I just wanted you to know my intentions. I’d planned on waiting until all of this was over, but I changed my mind.”

  ***

  I lifted Blake into my arms, carrying her effortlessly into the bedroom.

  She didn’t even stir as I laid her on the bed, and threw the covers over her.

  She made the cutest little groan as she settled deeper into the bed, and it took all I had not to roll her over and start fucking her before she was even awake.

  Alas, I turned on my heel and ran through my nightly routine of trimming my beard, washing my hands and face, and slicking on some deodorant and removing my prosthesis before getting into bed.

  I slipped under the covers and slid into the middle, all too aware of my missing limb as I pulled Blake into my arms.

  She curled her legs around my leg, and snuggled deeply into my chest before giving another cute sigh, and falling back to sleep.

  I was nearly asleep myself when the pager on my nightstand went off, alerting me to a SWAT call.

  “Motherfucker,” I breathed.

  Chapter 18