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The tango paced into view, gun in hand, but at least pointing down, and he smacked the mom in the head with his bare hand as he stormed past and out of sight from where Lillian crouched at the window. Guy was still shouting.
“I still have a shot. Repeat, Bulldog Two has a shot,” Saul said. He was in a tree on the east side of the house, so Lillian had no doubt the angle gave him a tactical advantage. And yes, if Psycho Dad’s actions escalated, then Saul would need to take him out.
But otherwise Lillian would do everything she could to make sure these kids didn’t see a parent—no matter how terrible he was—die right in front of them.
Not here. Not today.
“Negative, Bulldog Two,” Philip said. “Bulldog One, can you infiltrate without exposure?”
“Affirmative,” Lillian responded. “Especially with all the noise this guy is making.”
“Everyone is in position. Go at your discretion,” Philip told her. The rest of the team—as well as the new kid—was ready to back her up and take out the tango if needed.
Lillian waited until the guy went on another tirade, screaming right in the mother’s ear, both kids sobbing, as an opportunity to slip inside a small crack when she opened the door. The Omega SWAT team regularly used Lillian’s small stature to their advantage. This was no different.
She kept to the shadows as she made her way closer to the kitchen.
“Tango is starting to wave the gun again.” Saul’s voice had reached an excited pitch again. “He’s got it to the wife’s head.”
“Roger that, Bulldog Two. Your shot?”
“Still clear, TC. Just give me the word.” Saul was damn near panting with excitement.
Damn it. She’d rather the team take out the father than have the mother die.
“Bulldog One?”
“I have no visual,” she muttered.
“Okay, Bulldog Two, you are cleared to—”
Lillian saw movement again in the kitchen. “Hold,” she said. “Tango is on the move again. Back to pacing.”
“I’ve still got the shot, TC.”
The frustration was evident in Poniard’s tone, and Lillian couldn’t blame him. Preparing to fire, and being cleared to fire, but then having the order rescinded at the last second, was irritating. But exercising control was also an important part of being a SWAT team member.
“Bulldog One, can you beanbag him?” Carnell asked.
“Roger that, TC. Moving into position.” Lillian grinned, replacing her HK MP5 with the shotgun strapped behind her back. The beanbag round was only accurate up to about six meters, but she was within range. Its blow was designed to cause minimal permanent damage while rendering the subject immobile.
The fact that it would hurt Screaming Dad like hell didn’t bother Lillian a bit. She crawled forward. She was going to have to pull some sort of Tom Cruise roll-and-shoot nonsense in order to get into position in the quickest way possible. She usually went for much less drama. But not today.
Guy started screaming again. Lillian had had enough.
You want to dance, buddy? We’ll dance. Together.
“On my mark,” she whispered to the team. “Three, two, one.”
Lillian pushed herself from her crouched position in the shadows, twisting her body into a roll as she cleared the wall and came into the opening of the kitchen, landing in a kneel.
She saw surprise light the tango’s face. He was swinging his gun around toward her when her finger gently squeezed the trigger on the shotgun, her aim perfect.
The beanbag round hit him square in the chest, propelling him back through the air and away from the table and hostages. The gun fell out of his hand.
Less than two seconds later Lillian was on the tango and the rest of the team was filing through the door, grabbing the children and wife and leading them to safety.
Screaming Dad groaned as Lillian grabbed his hands to cuff them. “Tango is secure.”
“You’re a woman!” The man’s outrage couldn’t be more clear.
Lillian arched a single eyebrow. “Yeah? Well, you’re an idiot. Turn over.”
“I think you done broke my ribs.”
Lillian didn’t give a rat’s ass whether this jerk had a couple of cracked ribs. He was lucky Philip hadn’t turned the trigger-happy new kid loose on him. “Shut up. I’ll break more than your ribs.”
Within a few more minutes the perp was loaded into the back of a squad car and the wife and kids were handed over to the paramedics.
“Nice work, everyone,” Derek said over their comm unit. “Let’s get packed up and back to HQ to debrief.”
Lillian bumped fists with everyone as they made it back to the car. Even Saul, who was smiling like an idiot. Everybody was walking away today. No one seriously injured, even the tango.
That made today a good day.
“Beers on me,” Derek said.
That made it an even better day.
* * *
LATER THAT NIGHT after the debriefing and the beers, Damien Freihof sat in an abandoned warehouse across town, staring at “Mr. Fawkes.” Damien had made it his mission over the last six months to destroy Omega Sector, piece by piece, in payment for taking the life of his beloved wife.
Fawkes, as he so cleverly liked to be called, had proven very useful over the last few months in that endeavor. Fawkes’s inside information on Omega had been quite helpful indeed.
Fawkes still wouldn’t give Damien his real name. Damien wondered how upsetting it would be to the younger man to know that Damien had figured it out weeks ago. The man might be brilliant, but Damien didn’t work with people he didn’t know.
Damien’s and Fawkes’s ideologies were different. Fawkes looked to destroy and rebuild all of law enforcement. Damien just wanted Omega to suffer the way he did when he’d lost his Natalie. Wanted them to know what it meant to experience unbearable loss.
But if Damien could bring chaos across the country by destroying the foundation of all law enforcement, as was Fawkes’s plan, then hell, he was up for that, too.
“It’s time,” Fawkes said as he paced back and forth hardly visible beside a window, even in the full moon. “You’ll be ready, right? We only have eight days.”
Damien sat perched against a desk. “Yes, I’ll be ready to do my part in your master plan.”
“We’ve gotten rid of two of their team members completely. Another is injured and not fully up to speed.” Fawkes continued his pacing.
“It’s a mistake to underestimate the Critical Response Division, even when they’re weakened.” Damien had learned that the hard way.
“They brought in a new guy on the SWAT team. That was unexpected.” Fawkes stopped and studied Damien as he said it, as if gauging his response.
Damien knew all about the new guy. “Is that a problem?”
“No.” Fawkes resumed his pacing. “The team thinks they’re so smart, but they’re not. I’ve left a trail. It’s going to lead right to the very heart of the SWAT team. The sweetheart.”
“Lillian Muir?” Damien raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve got special plans for her. Have already left clues in the system that lead back to her as the mole I know they’re searching for.”
Damien had to admit Fawkes’s computer skills were impressive. He’d provided information that had helped Damien a great deal. Most particularly two weeks ago, when Omega had almost captured him at his own house. Without a warning from Fawkes, Damien would never have made it out.
Nor taken one of the SWAT team out of action in the process.
Fawkes might not be the easiest person to work with, but he definitely knew how to manipulate a computer system. And how to manipulate people, for that matter. People didn’t take him seriously enough, including those at Omega Sector.
Which was probably why he was trying to blow up—literally—all of law enforcement.
Or maybe he just had mommy issues. Whatever. Damien didn’t care why Fawkes was doing it, he just wanted to see Omega Sector destroyed. If Lillian Muir was going to take the fall for that, even better. Damien would do a little checking up on her himself.
Fawkes wasn’t the only one with computer skills and digging-up-info skills.
“Is there even going to be anyone left to search for the villain after you get through next week?” Damien asked.
Fawkes stilled. “I’ll be left. I will be one of the few tactically trained agents left in the whole agency. Hell, in the whole country. And all the destruction will lead right to Lillian Muir’s door. She’ll be dead and unable to open the door, but the destruction and blame will still lead right to her.”
Damien grinned. One thing Fawkes had was exuberance. “Sounds like a perfect plan to me.”
Chapter Two (#u6620147a-7682-568e-b7ec-fcc762a6d16f)
Jace Eakin stretched his long legs out in front of him in an office chair that probably hadn’t been comfortable even when it was new. Now that it was ratty and at least a dozen years past that, it was even less so. His knee was stiff from too many hours cramped in a plane, his shoulder vaguely ached from a bullet he’d taken years ago in Afghanistan. Thirty-two was too young to feel this old.
He was in an office that looked like it was out of some old gumshoe movie, complete with dirty windows and low ceilings. The man sitting behind a desk looked almost as rumpled as the office itself.
Jace knew Ren McClement was anything but.
Jace had first met him ten years ago when they served together in the US Army Rangers in the Middle East. Working side by side with someone in daily life-or-death situations showed that person’s true colors. Ren McClement was one of the few people in the world Jace trusted without restriction. He knew the feeling was mutual. Which was why he was here now in this godforsaken seat in some out-of-the-way office in Washington, DC, rather than putting the finishing touches on his ranch in Colorado.
“Ren, seriously, dude, you’ve got to get some chairs not built for midgets.”
Both Ren and the other man in the room, Steve Drackett, chuckled. Ren had gotten out of the army not long after the time he spent in Afghanistan with Jace. Because of his skills and security clearance, Ren had immediately been brought into Omega Sector, a joint task force made up of the best agents the United States had to offer.
Jace knew Ren was one of the highest-ranking members of Omega, and that he worked mostly in covert missions.
Nothing surprising about that. Ren had had the ability to blend in with almost any situation even back in his Ranger days. That the government was smart enough to use him for clandestine work wasn’t surprising to Jace.
What was a mystery to him was why Ren had asked him here to begin with. Although always happy to see his old friend, Jace was not an Omega Sector agent. He wasn’t an agent at all.
“Yeah, budget for this place wasn’t very big,” Ren said. “Not that I’m in here enough to worry about that anyway.”
Ren could probably have a very high-end government office with a million-dollar view of DC, but chose not to. Jace knew for a fact that Ren never entered a government building unless he had to, and even then it wasn’t through the front door. The undercover nature of his job prohibited it.
“I can see why you wouldn’t want to be here often. And speaking of, why am I here? I’m assuming there’s a reason other than reliving old times.”
Ren nodded. “We have a situation in the Omega Critical Response Division out in Colorado Springs. A mole who is leaking information to a terrorist named Damien Freihof. We know the mole is someone inside the SWAT team. Steve—” he gestured to the other man, who was leaning with one shoulder against the wall “—has requested that I send in someone I trust to help find the mole.”
Steve pushed himself away from the wall and handed Jace a thin file with some papers inside. “We found this Manifesto of Change document hidden in one of our Omega computer servers.”
On my honor, I will never betray my badge, my integrity, my character or the public trust.
I will always have the courage to hold myself and others accountable for our actions.
I will always uphold the constitution, my community and the agency I serve.
Jace looked over at Ren, then Steve. “This looks like some sort of law-enforcement creed.”
Steve nodded. “It’s the oath of honor that law enforcement officers take at their swearing-in ceremony. But keep reading.”
We all took an oath to uphold the law, but instead we have allowed the public to make a mockery of it. Where is the honor, the integrity, the character in not using the privilege and power given to us by our training and station to wipe clean those who would infect our society? We were meant to rise up, to be an example to the people, to control them when needed in order to make a more perfect civilization.
But we are weak. Afraid of popular opinion whenever force must be used. So now we have changed the configuration of law enforcement forever.
And now, only now, will you truly understand what it means to hold yourselves accountable for your actions. Only with death is life truly appreciated. Only with violence can true change be propagated. As we build anew, let us not make the same mistakes. Let the badge mean something again.
Let the badge rule as it was meant to do.
Jace shifted slightly in his chair. “Okay, I’ll admit, this is scary. And I sympathize, I really do, that this has come from within your own organization, but I’m not an agent. There’s got to be other people you trust who could do a better job than I could.”
Ren glanced over at Steve and then back at Jace. “We’re not looking for someone long-term. This is a time-sensitive op.”
Steve nodded. “I would’ve bet my life that the traitor was not one of my SWAT team members. I’ve known most of those people for years. But intel has suggested that not only is the mole a member of SWAT, but also has a plan that will involve a massive loss of life.”
“Do you have details about how? When?” Jace asked.
Steve nodded. “Within the next two weeks. Our strong suspicions are that it has to do with a law-enforcement summit scheduled in Denver next week. It will have police chiefs and politicians in attendance from all over the country.”
“That would definitely make a good target.” Jace looked back at Ren. “And if you need an extra hand with a rifle, I’m more than willing to help out, especially since I’m headed out to Colorado anyway.”
“Still planning on breeding and raising dogs?” Ren asked. “Horses? Opening your ranch?”
“Hey, don’t mock my dream.” Jace had always wanted to own a small parcel of land where he could raise animals, particularly dogs, that could be trained for service members and veterans who suffered from PTSD. Maybe even make it into a place where vets could come and enjoy space and quiet for a temporary stay when they needed it.
Jace had made some savvy financial investments in his twenties that had given him the means to make this dream a reality now. He’d be able to cover himself financially until he was able to make a living from his business. He was looking forward to working outside, with the land and animals. He also looked forward to not having to be constantly worried about being in danger.
Although risk cognizance had been a part of his life for so long it was second nature to him now.
“I wouldn’t dream of mocking it.” Ren smiled. “Hell, I may be joining you before this is all over. But I was hoping you would help me out before you got out of the game for good.”
“We don’t need an agent,” Steve said. “We just need someone who can come in and pass for a SWAT team member. Somebody who has the qualifications and physical prowess to join the team. Because of attacks by Damien Freihof, we’re down a couple of members, so bringing in someone from the outside wouldn’t be unheard of.”
