It didn't work. God, what she’d seen and what she’d imagined, the thoughts that still raced through her brain hadn't quieted in the slightest. Since her father had strung each event together for her, she’d been replaying the moments in sequence. The totality of the evening overwhelmed her ability to put any of the thoughts into a cohesive perspective. She’d get there eventually, but it would not happen today. Today she was going to let herself feel the emotions that surrounded her. She'd find a way to put things into perspective. But not today.
She tipped back her head and glanced way up to where the shampoo and soap waited for her. Maybe she’d just soak up the warmth for a bit longer.
Blay rubbed his face with his hands. Scrubbed it, rather. Holy hell. Someone kidnapped Brianna. She’d shot a man. Almost drowned?
“Are you tracking here, Son?” His dad’s question rang loud and clear in the kitchen.
He nodded his head. “Yeah. I’m staying here until either you or Ryker come back.”
“You’re off for forty-eight?”
He nodded. “Yeah, just finished my seventy-two-hour shift. I’ve got plenty of time. You go do what you need to do. I’ll fix her some breakfast and then tuck her into bed.”
“It might be better to ask her to sit with you here and watch television. If she wakes up in a dark room alone...”
Blay bounced his foot as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “Oh, shit. Didn’t think about that. Yeah, okay. I can do that.”
“I appreciate it. I’ll call your mother on the way to my office. I’m going to make her promise not to leave the house until we have this guy in custody.”
“When is the sweep going to happen?”
His father glanced at his watch. “It started twenty-five minutes ago.”
Ryker approached the van. The HCPD sweats he wore were dry, but that did little to stop the reek of the harbor, and taking time to shower was out of the question. Thank God he had extra running shoes in his office. He’d eaten some over-the-counter painkillers and downed two cups of coffee. He was hurting and tired, but he’d be damned if he’d step down from the helm of this bust.
He tapped quietly on the back door of the command vehicle disguised as a city utility vehicle. Stepping up into the van, he nodded at the officers already working the comms. He put his headset on. “Command to Team One, status.” His voice rang across the radios in the front of the van, squelching a high tone through the system. He covered his mic. “Secure your comms.”
Patel yelled at him from the front seat: “Sorry. Okay, they’re off, go ahead.”
“Command to Team One, status.”
“Team One, ready.”
“Command to Team Two, status.” He waited for the reply and repeated his check on Team Three.
“All Teams, this is Command. Proceed to your Alpha position and check in.” He received acknowledgements and watched as his teams drove from the parking lot in armored vehicles.
“Which site, sir?”
He sat down and buckled in. “Position us at Alpha point with Team Two.”
Peña and Rubio were deadly, but they liked the comfort that their money could buy. His bet was they’d been nesting inside the warehouse, and that was where they’d fled when Brie had shot Peña. Sarah said the apartment was opulent—or in her words, the place was ‘lit’—and they kept most of the drugs on the premises.
Which raised an interesting question. Why would they keep their stock readily available, loaded in trucks so they could move their inventory at a moment’s notice? Why wouldn’t they cut it and distribute it immediately? Unless the fuckers were operating the logistical branch of the business right under HCPD’s nose.
He shook his head and held on as Patel maneuvered the command van into traffic. The cartel’s time in Hope City was dwindling. Ryker shifted and eased his shoulder. He wanted to be at the tip of the spear with his team, but he was fucking sidelined and hurting. Regardless, they were striking a major blow this morning. He said a quick prayer for those taking part in the sweep.
When Patel turned into the parking lot with Team Two, his people went into a flurry of activity. They activated the video feeds and checked radio communications. He dismounted the van and made his way through a gauntlet of personnel making final adjustments to uniforms and checking weapons and comms.
He edged Tiernan away from the crowd. “Your people know what to expect?”
Tiernan nodded. “We are going in expecting hostilities. It is our normal play, and we’ll exercise extreme diligence.”
“Be careful and don’t get dead.” Ryker extended his hand to his friend.
“That’s always the plan, my man.” Tiernan shook his hand and nodded to the command vehicle. “You’re not taking a position, right?”
“No. Not unless hell freezes over.” He eased his shoulder again. “I think I’ll take it easy today.”
Tiernan snorted, “Right.”
He laughed and headed back to the command vehicle. When he put on the headphones and adjusted his monitor, it was time to move his people into harm’s way.
Ryker cleared his throat. “Listen up. Each of you focuses on your team. I’ll be on all frequencies. If you need a wide broadcast, relay it to me.” He ran down the checklist. “Helmet cams.”
“Team One, good feed.”
“Team Two, good feed.”
“Team Three, good feed.”
He nodded and did the same for comms and his team echoed the same responses. It was redundant, but one malfunctioning piece of equipment could cost lives. Ryker looked up when the timer activated. He keyed his mic and issued the alert. “Team One, Two, and Three, two-minute warning.”
He heard the doors closing on the two assault vehicles next to the command van. The engines cranked and all three team leads acknowledged his warning.
He watched the clock as the digital display counted down. At exactly zero six hundred, he keyed his mic. “All teams, go.”
As expected, Team Three hit their building first. Patel logged the exact time of arrival as did his
