by Laura Acton
Bay Office Complex
Bram pushed open the roof door, they made it to their destination rather fast, and the express elevator whisked them to the top in short order. He motioned for Kinsey to cover him as he stepped out with his MP5 at the ready.
This call bothered him. With Snow, Riqueti, and Bozonnet dead, if they didn’t locate the sniper, the team might need to deal with some blow-back. Luckily their whereabouts could be verified, but the fact General Broderick had not returned any of Boss’ or Jon’s calls worried him.
William genuinely loves Dan and is a moral man, but I’m sure he’s had his fill of unscrupulous men gunning for his son … Plouffe, Murphy, Merrill, Pletcher, Snow, and others no doubt. As a father myself, and from what I see on the job, men can be pushed to a breaking point. What I don’t know is if William reached his.
Bram finished his scan of the empty roof, wanting to find the shooter and hoping like hell it was not Dan’s dad. Not seeing anyone, he reported, “Clear, no subject in this location, Jon. Moving to Queen Towers.”
Rosewood Research
“Copy. Ray and I are on the way to the roof via the stairs. The building is undergoing renovations, and the elevators are out of commission because some yahoo blew the main breaker.” Jon renewed his speed.
Breathing hard by the twenty-first floor, Ray followed Jon up the steps. “Dan would already be on the thirty-first floor by now. I need more conditioning. Too much time in the truck lately.”
Jon chuckled and admitted, “Yeah, and Dano wouldn’t be winded either.” He kicked himself again for the way he treated Dan. I have a lot to atone for … I only hope Dan allows me the opportunity, though I don’t’ deserve one.
Ray caught the use of Dano. Our tactical lead is a complicated man with flaws, but he genuinely cares about the entire team. Been on the receiving end of his tirades a time or two, but poor Dan unjustly receives more than his fair share. I hope Jon’s appalling tongue lashing of Dan will be the last time he screws up with him. If not, I will no longer stand by quietly. Ray halted his thoughts and put his head back in the game … now was not the time to rehash the past.
Reaching the roof several minutes later, both paused to catch their breath and prepare to exit. Ray placed his hand on the knob and turned. He pulled slow, creating a thin gap, allowing Jon to take a peek. At Jon’s nod, he opened it the rest of the way and they edged out. The portal faced the opposite direction of the courthouse, so if the sniper were here, he would be on the other side.
Jon motioned he would go left, while Ray moved right, around the walls which housed the stairwell. Both took deliberate steps, not wanting to alert a potential subject of their approach.
The soft crunch of gravel under boots behind him alerted the gunman to the presence of TRF. Neither his sight nor his hearing diminished with age, and he spotted them entering the office building. The jig was up, and sadly he would not be able to dispatch the fourth man to Hell.
With only moments to act, he picked up his pistol and gazing heavenward at the clear azure sky, he whispered, “Kitten, I’m coming.”
A single shot rang out causing Ray and Jon to crouch down, taking defensive positions before approaching cautiously, unsure what was going on. Neither wanted to give their location away, so they remained silent and ignored the calls for status.
Jon rounded the corner before Ray, the first to view the ghastly sight. He closed his eyes, inhaled sharply, and exhaled before responding in a flat tone, “No harm. Subject down. Single GSW to the head. Suicide.”
Opening his lids, Jon moved closer to secure the gun, and he noticed an envelope addressed to TRF. He understood he shouldn’t tamper with the scene, and struggled not to pick up what he assumed to be a suicide note as Pope’s threat to bury them if they messed up came to mind. Leaving it untouched, Jon asked, “Loki, do we have a recent photo of Mr. Cooke?”
Ray came forward, his weapon lowered and peered down at the dead man as a pang of sorrow cloaked him. What would drive him to such an action? Recalling the picture of Cooke, Ray sighed. “Don’t bother sending the photo. I can confirm, the subject is Henry Cooke.”
Henry’s Justice
45
May 17
Courthouse – 4:00 p.m.
After medics tended Turner’s graze, Detention Officer Busch handcuffed him and ordered, “Let’s move, Turner,” as he prodded the inmate in the back.
“Where are we going?” Charley couldn’t stop staring at the sheet covered bodies of his friends, astonished he didn’t meet the same end.
“Where do you think?” Busch turned away from the grisly sight. On the job for only five days, he never expected to be shot at or witness three deaths.
“Back to the detention center?” Charley’s eyes flicked to the bus.
“Nope. You’re going to the holding cell with the others. After your arraignment and the mess outside is sorted out, you’ll be returned to prison.”
His eyes rounding, Charley thought about the man who tripped him and all the times he had been beaten to a pulp while incarcerated. Without Snow, Bozonnet, and Riqueti to cover his back he would be a sitting duck. “But you can’t put me in with the general population,” Charley whined.
Raising his eyebrow, the young officer kept a firm grip on the inmate, moving him down the hall to the secure area. “Why? Do you think you deserve a special room because of the little cut on your arm?”
“No, because I’m Charley Turner.”
Busch shook his head. Man, this guy is full of himself, as if his name means anything to me. “Well Mr. Turner, we only got one cell in this building, so you’ll havta learn to share.”
After entering the holding area, the guard on duty pressed the button to open the cell. Busch removed the handcuffs from Turner before nudging the reluctant man inside. He closed the door, tested the latch to ensure it locked, and headed to the monitor room. Busch needed a moment to relax, grab a cup of coffee, and settle his frazzled nerves.
Inside the cell, Charley pulled himself up and puffed out his chest before striding to the far corner away from the inmates who eyed him like fresh meat. As an ex-cop, he shouldn’t be in with them. Lowering himself onto a bench, Charley’s eyes constantly scanned, trying to decide which of the ten occupants posed the greatest threat to him.
An inmate with hardened features and charcoal eyes nodded to the man sitting on his right. Mitchell Raine rose and sauntered over to the ex-cop, aware of who he was from the news as well as the loudmouth Bozonnet, but he chose to act ignorant. “So, what you in for?”
Which charge will protect me in here? Charley narrowed his eyes attempting to project a don’t mess with me attitude. “Attempted murder of a pig.”
Raine laughed. “You like bacon so much you wanted to kill a piggy?”
This guy is an idiot like Robbie. Charley replied acidly, “No, dumbass, a cop. Beat his ass to shit. Left him to starve to death but unfortunately, they found him before he kicked the bucket. What are you in for?”
“Oh, a bit of this and that.” Raine engaged Turner in conversation as he surreptitiously dug for information.
Charley bragged about his crimes, believing his deeds would make him appear dangerous and keep him safe.
Ten minutes later, Raine peered across the room at his cousin. “Hey, Calvo, you are right, it’s him. This is the piece of shit who put Papa Efrain in the hospital.”
Charley never knew what hit him. He lay motionless on the floor, eyes still open, neck snapped. Dead!
TRF HQ – Briefing Room – 7:10 p.m.
In an unusual turn, the team spent more time at the crime scene than typical. Mostly Pope’s doing as he insisted crossing all T’s and dotting all I’s before releasing them. Pope also demanded NRB Agent Thornbuckle interview Jon and Ray at length to verify they did everything possible and by the book to take the subject into custody before he blew his brains out. Thornbuckle left shaking his head and sending an evil eye at Pope, none too pleased how Pope inserted himself
into the questioning, primarily because it was clear the man shot himself before they had an opportunity to announce themselves.
Jon wanted to lose his cool, but that would’ve played into Pope’s hand and given him ammunition to come after Alpha at a later date on some insignificant issue. So, he remained professional and detached through the entire process and noted Ray followed his example. The only good to come from their extended presence on scene was the lead CSI provided them a copy of the letter address to them.
Debrief cast a pall over the team as they reviewed Henry Cooke’s military file, the evidence linking the DNA to his wife’s attack, and his suicide note. Holding the velum stationery, Jon re-read Henry’s farewell, trying to wrap his head around why the man would end his life.
To the Men and Women of TRF:
I sincerely apologize to whoever observed my exit. Aware you would come for me, as you must if following the dictates of your duty … to safeguard the innocent and sometimes the guilty, I understand and regret the pain it will bring you. Death is never easy to witness no matter how often one must.
Rest assured, you bear no culpability in my death, I went out on my own terms, and nothing you could’ve said … not that I gave you a chance, would’ve changed my mind. I lived a beautiful life. A precious and kind woman loved me for almost sixty years. We had six sweet children who God called to Heaven while they were still young and innocent.
What I did, most would consider immoral and a sin. However, I do not. I believe an avenging angel guided my course and sent me to right an injustice. Evil lurks among us, and some people are the devil incarnate, preying on the weak to cause untold suffering. God granted me an ability which I used for many years to protect others from harm. During my time in the Army, I employed those skills on many such evil spirits. I used them again today to remove four more devils.
Those four animals perpetrated heinous crimes. My Ellie was one of their victims, and their brutal assault dimmed the light in her lovely eyes. Though I endured pain when they chose to abduct me, I would gladly suffer again, because it set the path for me to discover who attacked her.
Today, God once again allowed me to sit in judgment of four corrupted souls, to avenge the years of anguish they caused many, my beloved Kitten included, and to prevent them from harming more innocents.
Do not grieve for me. I lived a long life graced with faithful friends, and served my fellow man with honor. I trust God to embrace me with open arms as I stand at the gates of Heaven to be judged. I am now with my loving Ellie and children.
Retired Sergeant Henry Michael Cooke,
God’s Servant and Custodes de Innocentio
Jon tossed the letter on the table as he blew out a breath, wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, and squeezed. “I don’t get it.”
“What’s not to get?” Bram responded. “He acted as judge, jury, and executioner. I understand his motivation … but don’t condone his method.”
“No. Not that part … the suicide.” Jon rose and paced. “I’m not advocating his actions to take out the dirtbags, but not sorry they’re dead either. Why did he kill himself?”
Bram shrugged. “We may never know his reasoning. Perhaps this was the last straw, and he couldn’t go on any longer after all his loss.”
Kinsey listened as she thought about Henry’s salutation. “Does anyone know what Custodes de Innocentio means? That is an odd way to end his suicide note.”
Loki’s knee bounced a slow cadence. “If Dan were here, he would’ve translated for me, but I looked it up ‘cause I was curious too. It is Latin for Guardians of the Innocent.”
“Dan understands Latin?” Kinsey eyed Loki.
“Yeah … speaks and reads many languages,” Ray answered Kinsey, then addressed Loki, “Are you sure it isn’t guardian? Guardians seems odd.”
Kinsey scrunched her eyes, not quite believing them. The blond sniper with a bad attitude towards her didn’t appear to be all that intelligent. She wanted to ask what other languages he spoke but stopped as Loki responded.
“Custodes is plural.” Loki’s knee sped up as thoughts of Dan came to mind again … his friend never far from his thoughts. “Wish we knew how Dan is doing. Bram, you certain he hasn’t contacted you? Perhaps you missed a call.”
“Sorry, buddy, same answer as the last time you asked. No messages, no missed calls.” Bram leaned back in his chair and swiveled to peer out the window, thinking about Dan too … or more correctly Dan’s father. Relieved the sniper was not William, but concerned by the elder Broderick’s lack of communication. He sighed as he realized Dan’s family must be aware of what Jon, Lexa, and Boss did to him.
Swiveling towards the table, Bram eyed Jon, and another crazy thought entered his head. The general might want their heads on a platter. Probably a good thing he isn’t calling. I can imagine the cutting words … he might flay Jon alive. Another thought popped in. Christ, if Blaze, Winds, or Jim find out, we might never locate Jon’s body if they decide to seek retribution.
Nick stared at the picture of Ellie. He had the same questions as Jon. Henry lived for several years without his wife, so why take his own life now? He glanced up as Tia appeared next to him holding papers.
Understanding how demanding today had been for the team, Tia hoped the three sheets she handed Nick would help. “Boss, these were faxed over for you. Two are from Inspector Pope, and the top one is from NRB.”
“Thanks.” Nick adjusted his position, pulling the chair closer to the conference table and began perusing the paperwork.
Tia flashed a smile at Ray before returning to the dispatch desk.
Nick’s expressions cycled through relief, sadness, and ended with stunned as he reviewed the documents. He removed his hat, set it on the table, rubbed his face, and rocked back in his chair as he processed the conflicting emotions generated by what he read.
“Boss?” Jon retook his seat, concerned when Nick remained silent.
Holding up a hand indicating to wait, Nick took several more moments before sitting forward again. His gaze roamed over each of the team as he blew out a breath, and gave them a small smile. He focused on Ray. “Three things. First, no charges will be brought against Ray for his action while apprehending Bozonnet. After reviewing the entirety of the circumstances, which included admirably performing his duties while under immense mental duress and physical exhaustion, NRB determined none will be filed nor will there be any letter of censor in Ray’s personnel file.”
Smiles and comments of support for Ray were exchanged. Best buddies shared relieved grins as Loki clapped Ray’s back.
Nick’s demeanor became somber. “Second, the rationale behind the suicide is now clear. Pope discovered Henry received a diagnosis of stage-four pancreatic cancer and was given only weeks to live. Death from that type of cancer is excruciating.”
He halted, allowing them to absorb the information before continuing. “Lastly, Turner is dead.”
“What? His wound is only a graze.” Bram stared at Nick.
“Barely a scratch,” Loki added.
“How?” Jon requested.
“Appears Turner was put in the main holding cell, the only one at the courthouse. Eloy Calvo freely admitted to snapping Turner’s neck. Said he would do it again every day of his life if he could.”
Nick noted the appalled expressions. “Apparently, he is the grandson of Efrain Calvo and is serving a life sentence for murder, so he said it was worth it to eradicate the scum who nearly killed his grandfather.”
Jon studied the drawn faces of the team, today had been a rough one. He slapped the table twice with his palms. “Alright. Time to go. Shift’s been over for twenty minutes. Go home. Rest. We had one hell of a day. I need you all back here tomorrow with your heads on straight. As always, need anything, call Nick or me.”
He rose and watched as everyone except Nick stood and began to file out. When they were alone, Jon asked, “Are you going to call Lexa and tell her about Ray and the critical c
all?”
Nick nodded with a slight grin as he pushed up out of his chair. “Yeah, wouldn’t want to earn anymore bruised biceps by not keeping her in the loop. Though, I expect Loki will be calling her too. He was not pleased to find out we forgot to tell her. He was afraid she might think he would be mad at her for not showing up at the hospital.”
Jon cracked a smile. “Loki is like that … cares about people’s feelings. Are you going to talk about … you know … the issue?”
“No. I’m not ready yet, and I want to wait until my days off. Might be a long discussion and I don’t want to rush this and misstep again.”
“Understand.” As Jon headed towards the locker room with Nick, he said, “I’ve heard Custodes de Innocentio once before.”
“When?”
“The night I stayed in Dan’s room after the doctor told him his lungs would never recover enough to return to work. It was part of his disjointed mumbling at one point. I glanced at Scott at the time, and he only shrugged.”
“Perhaps it is an Army saying … Scott is in the Navy.”
“Maybe.” Jon’s mind switched gears. “Though Dan is unlikely to answer my call, I’m going to leave him a message and tell him what happened to Snow and his cronies.”
Nick shook his head. “Not a smart idea … we need to give him space, and I’m sure he will hear about it on the news.”
Jon nodded. He would heed Nick’s advice and not try to insert himself back into Dan’s life, though he wished to make amends. He would wait patiently and allow Dan to set the pace and terms.
Castlemore Tavern & Grill – 8:00 p.m.
Though his day off, Niko entered the tavern with his wife after learning of Henry’s shocking death via the breaking newscast. His eyes rounded with surprise at the packed room. “Guess we are not the only ones,” he whispered to Vivian as he beheld a room full of old Henry’s friends.
Young and old alike congregated around tables … but Henry’s preferred table and his usual bar stool remained unoccupied. An untouched beer sat at the bar top and on the table a plate containing Henry’s favorite peameal bacon sandwich and a vase filled with Ellie’s favorite flowers which represented the Cooke’s well. Gladiolus symbolized strength and moral integrity, characteristics Henry possessed in spades. Daffodils signified joy and new beginnings, qualities Ellie displayed in abundance until the night she was assaulted.