I.N.E.T 1

by Brenda Cothern

  Zep and Fernandez’s other goon returned from escorting Lita out. Fernandez leaned forward and set his glass on the table as his goon moved behind Slade. Slade kept his gaze on Fernandez even though he felt Fernandez’s man stepped behind him.

  “You’ve brought me more than enough to test and for us to enjoy our evening,” Fernandez grinned.

  Slade’s gut clenched. It wouldn’t be the first time undercover that a dealer expected him, in order to bust them, to actually do the drugs he was providing. Smoking weed wasn’t a big deal. They all had done it to make a bust. Pills were not a problem either since everyone on the team that went undercover was a pro at taking them without actually swallowing. Acting to be high and rolling was easy as hell if you knew what the effects of the drugs were.

  Even being pressured to shoot up wasn’t difficult to fake if there was a bathroom near and the dealers believed he was shy about being watched. However, there was no way to get out of freebasing without causing suspicion. The only saving grace with smoking coke was that the initial debilitating high passed quickly.

  Unfortunately, Slade’s gut told him he wasn’t going to be lucky enough to only have to base a few times or hide in a bathroom to fake shooting up. When Fernandez spoke again, Slade knew he was right.

  “Let’s see how good this really is,” Fernandez annoyingly snapped his fingers again and Zep stepped forward with a small bag of white powder, a few syringes, a spoon, and a tea light candle.

  “A good businessman never cuts into his profit,” Slade frowned disapprovingly at Fernandez as if the man should know better.

  “Ah, but a good businessman, doesn’t blindly rely on lab results for a product he is about to purchase,” Fernandez countered.

  Slade made no reply and resisted the urge to watch Zep melt the cocaine, some cut, and fill the syringes. Slade was only briefly relieved that the almost pure cocaine was being cut. Hopefully, with something like B12 and not baking soda or something worse.

  Zep didn’t look at him and played the part of Fernandez’s lackey perfectly when he held up the two syringes for Fernandez to inspect. After a nod from Fernandez, Zep held out a syringe to Slade, but Slade ignored him. He focused fully on Fernandez as the man pulled the tie from his neck and offered it to Zep.

  “I don’t do my product,” Slade said evenly, his tone harsh. “I won’t waste my money in my vein.” His words were the last ploy he had, but the look across Fernandez’s face told him the man didn’t care.

  “It’s not your money that is going into your vein tonight, my friend. It’s mine.” Fernandez grinned and gave a slight nod of his head.

  Fernandez’s man behind him pushed roughly down on Slade shoulders. Zep stepped closer and took Slade’s left wrist and pushed up his jacket sleeve. Zep stuck the syringe sideways in his mouth and proceeded to unbutton the cuff of Slade’s dress shirt before he moved Slade’s wrist between his legs. Zep’s thighs clamped down on his arm. Slade knew he could fight his way free if he needed to regardless of the goon pressing down on his shoulders. He also knew if he did, then he would effectively blow his cover and the bust they had been working on for over a year.

  Slade frowned his displeasure and finally met Zep’s eyes when his fellow agent pushed up his sleeve and jacket high enough to access his vein. Zep met his gaze while he cinched Fernandez’s tie around Slade’s arm. He then removed the syringe from his mouth and used his teeth to remove the cap. Zep spit the cap out of his mouth and briefly hesitated when he lowered the needle to Slade’s arm.

  If Slade hadn’t worked with Zep for years, he wouldn’t have noticed the agent’s slight hesitation or the shrouded look of concern in his eyes. Slade purposely blinked slowly. It was the only reassurance he could give his teammate since he could not nod. Zep seemed to understand the message.

  Time seemed to still, but Slade never looked away as Zep pierced his vein and pushed the plunger that sent cocaine flooding into his body. The last thing Slade heard before the loud zerm, zerm, zerm noise of the cocaine filling his ears was Fernandez laughing joyfully.

  Twenty-One

  It took Knight two full days of research between his classes to find out who Jonathan Chadwick Fisher, Jr. was and where the picture was taken. He made the connection between Fisher and Slade’s boss, now his boss Fish, two days ago shortly after he finished his dinner, but it took him longer to dig up the specifics.

  Once he had made the connection, Knight was going to pick Slade’s brain to get intel for his report. However, his partner was suspiciously avoiding him since he was given this assignment. Slade should have been back from his undercover op yesterday and Knight had expected to see his partner.

  Even if Slade had to go through a debrief, Knight expected to see the man last night or at least at some point today. Dinner had come and gone and Knight still hadn’t seen Slade. He knew that undercover work wasn’t like a nine to five job. Still, Knight ignored the fucked up feeling in his gut and tried to convince himself that the lack of Slade’s appearance was because his partner knew he was supposed to investigate and write a report on their boss.

  Knight crashed for the night, but couldn’t find sleep. The uneasy feeling in his gut grew until he gave up on sleep altogether. He finally broke down and called Slade’s cell phone. The call went straight to voicemail, which didn’t surprise Knight, but it didn’t make him feel any better either.

  Around five AM, Knight gave up on sleep. He showered, dressed, and grabbed his file on Fisher. There was no reason to stop by the cafeteria and grab breakfast because he knew that until he got rid of his unease, he wouldn’t be able to eat.

  Knight crossed the training complex and entered the Administration building. Security at the front desk looked surprised at his appearance, but that didn’t stop them from snapping to attention to do their job when he walked in.

  “Office hours start at eight,” a burly guard informed him as if he didn’t already know.

  “Fish called me in,” Knight lied easily and hoped his use of Fisher’s nickname reinforced his personal acquaintance with the North American, Southern Division, Director of INET.

  “He’s not in yet,” the guard informed Knight as if it wasn’t obvious a director wouldn’t be in at almost six AM.

  “No shit,” Knight said in a tone that was sure to make the guy feel like an idiot even if it came from only a trainee. “He told me to be outside his door by the time he arrived.” The guard looked slightly skeptical. “Look do you really think my ass would be out of bed this early if I wasn’t told to fucking be here?”

  The guard grunted as if he understood. “Better you than me.”

  The guard waved Knight through and they both ignored the metal detector that went ape-shit because of his weapon. Knight walked down the hall to the elevators without looking back at the guard. He had no idea what floor Fisher’s office was on, but thankfully the directory not only gave him the floor, but the office number.

  Knight stepped into the elevator with a grin on his face. It was a cakewalk to get into the building and for a moment he considered mentioning the shitty security to Fisher when they finally met. He was still smiling when he stepped off the elevator and walked down the hall toward the director’s office.

  He ignored the secretary’s desk and approached the door that sported a placard that read ‘J. Fisher’. Knight turned the handle expecting it to be locked and it was. Standard door locks were not a deterrent for Knight. He returned to the secretary’s desk and removed several paperclips before returning to the locked door.

  A few twists of the clips to get them primed and in less than two minutes after inserting them into the lock, he was in. Now, all he had to do was hope Fisher kept normal working hours and wait for the man to arrive.

  Fish collected his messages from the tray his secretary left them in for him before he used his key to unlock his office door. He was reading the first message when he stepped through his door. One second, the stack of messages was in one hand and his key in the o
ther as his office door closed behind him, and the next, he had his .9 mil drawn and pointed at the intruder who sat casually relaxed in one of his visitor chairs.

  Even after years of being stuck behind a stupid fucking desk, Fish always went with his gut and reacted to that feeling before his conscious mind even registered the threat.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Knight!” Fish spat out. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

  Knight smirked and watched Fisher lower his gun and stow it away in his shoulder holster. For an older agent, Fisher’s skills were still on the ball.

  “Shouldn’t you be more concerned about how I am here?” Knight asked casually as Fisher picked up the messages, his keys, and moved to sit behind his desk.

  “No. If you’re anything like Slade, and my money is on you being worse, then how you got in here is irrelevant,” Fisher gave Knight a knowing look. “The why is more important to me at the moment.”

  “I bet it is.” Knight chuckled and tossed his file folder on Fisher on his new boss’ desk.

  Fish looked down at the folder, but didn’t open it. He had a feeling he already knew that it was a file on him.

  “So you’re here about an assignment from Monroe?” Fish guessed.

  “Sure, if that’s what you want to believe,” Knight replied and smirked when Fisher frowned.

  “Okay,” Fisher pushed the file to the side of his desk without breaking eye contact with Knight. “If you’re not here about the assignment then what brings you to be sitting in my office at the crack of fucking dawn?”

  Eight AM wasn’t the crack of dawn, but from the little Knight had learned about Jonathan Chadwick Fisher, Jr. he wasn’t surprised that the man deduced he was here before the sun actually broke the horizon.

  “Well as much as I’d like to say my assignment, which we both know is bullshit… What is it with Monroe anyway? I mean can’t you guys come up with something that is an actual challenge?”

  Fish laughed. He recognized Knight’s deflection tactic for his question, but that was not what amused him. What he found so amusing was that as smart as he knew Knight was, the man chose Monroe to use for his distraction technique.

  “Not everyone is a genius Knight,” Fish countered without addressing Knight’s question. Knight didn’t reply, but instead just stared at him. “Slade says you’re bored.”

  “I am fucking bored!” Knight agreed with more heat in his voice than he had intended.

  “So, you’re here because you’re bored,” Fish stated instead of asked then added randomly, “Slade did say you had a temper.”

  Knight snorted. Of course Slade knew he had a temper. Hell, some of the best sex he’d ever had was because Slade had to deal with his temper. There was no reason to think Slade wouldn’t have shared information about his temper with their boss.

  “Slade was supposed to be back by now,” Knight said because the twinge in his gut made itself known again and was more pronounced than the pleasantries he was sharing with his new boss.

  “He’s undercover,” Fish replied and tried to keep his expression neutral.

  “I know how undercover works,” Knight spat and felt his temper rise. He forced it down. “He said he’d be gone for two days. “Today makes four.”

  “Look, Knight...”

  Knight cut Fisher off. “Something is wrong.” When Fish remained quiet and didn’t dispute his claim, Knight continued. “Fill me in and let me help. We both know that forcing me to go through this training is bullshit.”

  Fish stared at Knight and agreed with his soon to be new agent. The man was so intelligent that he didn’t really need INET training and if what Slade had told him about Knight’s photographic memory was true, then Knight only needed to read the shit they taught once before he would be qualified to be a full agent. Still…

  “Why were you working for TPD? You’re obviously smarter than what was needed to work that level of vice. Why not work for the DEA, FBI, or CIA? You’ve got the brains and the skill. Why work for a city vice squad?”

  All of Fisher’s questions were valid and Knight met the man’s eyes when he answered stoically. “I hate politics.”

  Fish knew Knight was partially lying, but laughed anyway. “You and me both.”

  “Where’s Slade?” Knight asked.

  Fish sobered before he answered. “Fernandez is holding him until the shipment meeting.”

  When Knight growled, literally fucking growled, Fish knew that Knight recognized Fernandez’s name. He also knew that there was no way in hell that he could prevent this trainee from being a part of their bust.

  “Tell me everything,” Knight demanded and against his better judgement, Fish did.

  Knight was pissed. By the time Fish filled him in on the case and he argued why he should be sent in to retrieve Slade, his temper was almost out of control. The delivery date was in four days, but Knight’s gut was telling him that it would be four days too long in Fernandez’s company to be healthy for Slade.

  Knight tried to convince Fisher to let him go in before the shipment date to get Slade out. He could play Slade’s brother since everyone claimed they looked like they were related. Fisher shot down the idea before Knight could even finish his argument. When Fisher pointed out Knight’s inability to speak the accented Spanish needed, Knight stopped arguing.

  Still, he wasn’t happy about leaving Slade in Fernandez’s clutches until the bust. He was less so when Fish told him to continue his training until he was fetched the day of the raid.

  I need to fucking hit something, Knight thought when he slammed out the door of the Administration building.

  Knight was just rounding the corner of the building to walk back towards the trainee courtyard when a hand landed on his shoulder.

  “Kni…”

  Knight reacted before the man behind him even finished saying his name. He spun and lashed out at the man’s chest. However it wasn’t the man’s chest the palm of his hand connected with. No, where he made contact with the man was closer to the guy’s stomach. Still, the hit was solid and caught the guy off guard.

  “Umph,” escaped the guy’s lips at the same time he reacted to Knight’s attack.

  Everything happened quickly and even though Knight tried to get in a few good body shots, he was no match against the man’s size. He soon found himself pinned against the side of the Administration building by an arm pressing painfully into the back of his neck.

  “Jesus Christ. Calm the fuck down before you get hurt.”

  “Get the fuck off me, asshole,” Knight growled and ignored the sense of déjà vu.

  “Shit. You could be Slade’s twin,” the guy chuckled. “Only God knows how Fish is going to keep you two out of trouble once you’re on the team.”

  Knight relaxed and tried to get his anger under control. Whoever the behemoth behind him was, it was clear that he knew Slade and was likely to be a future teammate.

  “Let me go,” Knight ordered and felt the man step away from him.

  Knight turned around and had to force his reaction to remain neutral when he took in the man’s appearance. The fucker was huge. It wasn’t only the three or four inches that towered above him that made the guy seem like a giant. The man had muscles to go along with his towering height. Not gym bunny muscles, but muscles that indicated he could have hurt Knight had he really tried. Knight took in the long blonde hair and stunning green eyes that made this agent attractive as hell, but he didn’t let his guard down.

  “So who the hell are you?”

  “Eddie Hypolita,” Eddie held out his hand and Knight couldn’t resist noticing the muscles in the man’s arm flex. “Your Slade’s new partner, Michael Knight.”

  Knight frowned. He wasn’t sure that he appreciated Slade’s teammates, his future teammates, knowing about him when he didn’t even know their names. God help them if they gave him any shit about his name, too.

  Lita watched Knight’s body for any sign of aggression. He noticed the man tense after t
hey shook hands and had a feeling he knew why.

  “Look, don’t call me Thor and I won’t make any K.I.T.T. references. Deal?”

  Knight’s chuckle surprised him because he had to admit that he was thinking all the guy was missing was a hammer.

  “Deal,” Knight agreed and waited to find out what the man wanted from him. Eddie provided a distraction from his anger that Knight desperately needed. Hopefully, it would be a distraction that wouldn’t just piss him off more.

  Twenty-Two

  “Let’s walk,” Eddie indicated the direction that would take them toward the shooting range.

  Knight fell in step with his large future teammate. The man was surprisingly light on his feet, graceful almost, as they walked toward the range and Knight waited for him to speak.

  “You came from Fish’s office so I can assume you were there about Slade.” Eddie glanced at Knight.

  “I was,” Knight confirmed and his temper flared again. “Why the hell you guys sent Slade to meet with Fernandez with only a woman for backup, I don’t know. I’m not putting down female agents here, but they are better suited to surveillance or as honey traps.”

  “Huh?” Eddie asked. “We didn’t send a woman in with Slade.”

  Knight glanced at Eddie to gauge if the guy was lying to him. He didn’t seem to be, but there was always a chance he didn’t know everything about Slade’s op.

  “Lita’s a woman’s name, so unless some male agent’s mother was a sadistic bitch…”

  The rest of Knight’s reply was cut off by a loud burst of laughter from his new teammate. Knight stopped walking and watched as Eddie practically bent in half while he roared with laughter. Knight frowned because he had no idea what the man found so funny. His future teammate seemed to be getting himself under control until he glanced up at Knight. Peals of laughter erupted from the large man all over again and Knight felt his temper spark to life.