Dirty Alliance (Special Weapons & Tactics Book 4)

by Peyton Banks

  Dirty Alliance

  Special Weapons & Tactics 4

  Peyton Banks

  Copyright © 2020 by Peyton Banks

  Editor: Emmy Ellis with Studioenp.

  Cover Design by Studioenp.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, businesses, events, and incidents are a figment of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. Any similarities to real people, businesses, locations, history, and events are a coincidence.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  A Note From the Author

  Dallas (Trust & Honor 1)

  About the Author

  Also by Peyton Banks

  Chapter 1

  “Give us your money,” a voice demanded.

  Myles froze in place. He stared at the ATM in disbelief. It was a little before seven in the morning, and he was about to get robbed while taking money out.

  Who goes out to rob people this early?

  “I don’t think you want to do this,” he murmured. A deep breath escaped him as he drew his hand back from the machine.

  “But we do. How much did you take out?” another voice asked.

  “A hundred.” Something hard pressed into Myles’s shoulder.

  The barrel of a gun.

  His muscles grew tense. He wasn’t sure about the men standing behind him, but Myles was highly trained in the deadliest of combat. With Myles having served his country, Uncle Sam ensured he was an elite soldier.

  “That will be a start. Go ahead and put your card back in and take out the max, old man,” the first voice said with a sarcastic chuckle. “We’ll even let you live.”

  He bit back a growl.

  Fuck this.

  They ran up on the wrong old man today.

  He stood to his full height and turned around. He glared at the two young punks who dared pull a gun on him.

  Really? This was who was attempting to rob him?

  The one holding the weapon didn’t even have fuzz on his damn chin, and the other one had short brown hair standing up on end.

  They both stepped back.

  Myles took notice of their gazes dropping down to the badge hanging around his neck.

  “You’ll let me live?” Myles growled. He took a step forward, using his size alone to intimidate them. He had about a good foot and almost seventy-five pounds on each of them. He was used to towering over people. With his size and build, most were afraid of him.

  “Oh shit. A cop,” Spikey Hair exclaimed, his eyes growing wide.

  “Now, if you want this one hundred dollars, you are going to have to take it from me.” Myles’s lips curved up into a crooked grin—he decided to have some fun with them. He held his hand in the air, showcasing the new bills.

  He dared them.

  Hell, if they could get the cash from his hands, he’d give it to them freely.

  “Ummm…” The gunslinger’s hand shook with the weapon in it.

  Doubt filled his face, and Myles almost felt bad for him. Almost.

  “On second thought, I’ve changed my mind.”

  Shit, they’re going to shoot someone, and it sure as hell won’t be me.

  “Changed your mind?” Myles scoffed. Sliding the bills into his pocket, he walked forward. “Why don’t you give me this before you hurt someone.” He whipped his hand out, taking the gun before the robbers could blink while brandishing his own service-issue Glock. He aimed it at them, his hand steady. “Now, I’m feeling generous right now because I don’t want to be late for my meeting. I’m going to let you go and not have a few friends of mine come pick you up. Don’t let me catch you on these streets again.”

  “Yes, sir,” they both echoed in unison with their hands raised, palms facing Myles.

  “Robbing a police officer at gunpoint is a serious offense, boys,” Myles announced. Unlike them, he was very familiar with a gun. Most of his career in the Army had called for him be holed up in the most unforeseen areas for hours where it was nothing but him and a rifle.

  Now, as a police officer and a member of the Columbia SWAT team, he was used to confrontations with guns a-blazing.

  Stupid punks.

  “Now go before I change my mind.” Myles waved his weapon, motioning them to leave.

  They took off running as if the gates of Hell had opened.

  With a low chuckle, Myles slid his Glock back in its sheath.

  “Idiots.” He walked to his truck and got in. The gun they had pulled out on him still had the safety on. “Well, that’s good.” With a shake of his head, he stored it in his glove box until he could turn it in at work.

  There was no telling what crimes had been committed with it.

  Glancing at his watch, he released a curse.

  If he didn’t get a move on, he’d be late for his department meeting.

  The drive to the precinct wouldn’t take long.

  Within fifteen minutes, Myles was striding into the station. Before going to the conference room, he’d made a pit stop and turned the confiscated gun over to Detective Brown, who was in charge of the gun buyback program.

  It was an effort that every police officer put in the time to help get guns off the streets.

  “Yo, Myles!”

  He turned around, recognizing the voice.

  Brodie, the youngest member of their team, approached him. Brodie was the team’s entry man, specializing in breaking and entering whatever building SWAT needed to go into.

  “What’s up, Brodie?” Myles grinned.

  Brodie arrived at his side. They did the usual brotherly greeting of a fist bump and slaps on the backs.

  “Shit. I think Mac makes these meetings early on purpose. Who wants to come into the office at this time of day?” Brodie shook his head, walking toward the conference room.

  Myles fell in step next to him. “I know. Some of us were out late last night,” Myles bragged.

  “Here we go.” Brodie rolled his eyes, laughing. “I need coffee so I can make sure I can process all the nasty details.”

  Myles barked a laugh. His night had been exciting. He’d met up with a little Spanish kitten he kept on speed dial. Nasty wouldn’t even begin to describe what he’d gotten into. She’d invited over a friend, and the rest they say, is history.

  He wasn’t a committing man. He liked to keep his options open. Every woman he was involved with knew he wasn’t the ‘settling down’ type. They understood he didn’t offer relationships or love.

  Myles, he just loved women and ensured they all enjoyed themselves in his company.

  What he did bring to the table were fun-filled nights complete with passion.

  He wasn’t against the institution of marriage. Not at all. It was apparently wor
king for Mac, Dec, and Ash. Had someone asked Myles if he would have thought any of his teammates would be getting married, he’d have laughed in their faces.

  SWAT was a dangerous job. One that didn’t come with any promises that they’d return home. Each man who wore those four letters across their chest fully understood that they would give one hundred and ten percent for their teammates.

  “One day, you can be like Myles Burton,” he boasted.

  They arrived at the conference room, and he waved Brodie in first.

  “What? Needing an STD test monthly?” Zain snickered from his corner of the room where he and Iker sat.

  Chuckles went around.

  Myles flipped them all off and settled into his chair next to his close friend, Ash.

  This was why he loved his fellow team members. These were his brothers in blue, and being SWAT meant that he had to trust them with his life.

  And he did.

  Myles never thought he would have found another group of men he’d grow close with. Once he’d left the Army, he’d made sure he stayed in touch with his former unit. It wasn’t like Myles had a choice. He’d spent years with them. Most times he had been deployed in the gutter of the world. Holed up in some God-forsaken part of the earth with them. He’d gone to war with those men, bled for them—killed for them.

  His unit, the 25th Infantry Division of the US Army, nicknamed Hell’s Devils, had been to hell and back. Their nickname was given to them while serving in Afghanistan. The unit had been deactivated, and most of the men had hung up their green berets. Some returned to civilian life while others chose the same as Myles and served in law enforcement.

  Looking around the room, Myles knew there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for his current teammates.

  “Don’t be jealous, Zain. I’m sure we can find you a few—”

  “Morning!” Mac barked, storming through the door.

  Declan was right behind him.

  Silence blanketed the room with the presence of their two sergeants in the place. By the expressions on Mac’s and Declan’s faces, there would be no joking around.

  They meant business.

  “Morning,” the squad echoed.

  Declan shut the door and took his seat in the first row. Mac walked over to the podium and laid some papers down on it. He paused and met the eyes of each man.

  Mac was a tough-ass. He held the respect of every man on the team. Between him and Declan, they led their squad with an iron fist.

  “SWAT tryouts are coming up tomorrow. We are potentially searching for one or two members,” Mac began.

  Myles sat up farther. Tryouts were an essential part of choosing a new member. They had to ensure the person would be able to not only keep up with the intense training but also fit into their close-knit group.

  “What time are we to show up?” Zain asked.

  “O six hundred hours,” Mac replied. His gaze landed on Myles, and he gave the nod.

  Myles had been charged with leading the physical endurance portion of the day.

  “How many applicants?” Myles asked.

  “I believe we’ll have about eight who signed up,” Declan answered. He turned his chair around to face the room.

  Eight wasn’t a bad number. Not all would survive the rigorous workout. If any of the people made it through the day, they would have the chance to progress. The second part of applying for SWAT was an interview in which they had to be invited.

  Each member of the team would be responsible for assessing every applicant. The person would have to be chosen to interview with Mac and Dec. If they passed them, then the person would move up the chain of command before a decision would be made.

  “Anything special you need from us, Myles?” Mac inquired.

  “Just for everyone to stay sharp when observing the applicants. We’re going to go through the regular drills. Let’s have some fun and hopefully find our newest member.” Myles glanced around the room.

  It didn’t need to be said that they were choosing another member of their clan. Most people didn’t get to choose who was part of their family. This was the one time they could. This person would be someone who’d have to be the best at everything, someone they could trust.

  SWAT’s missions were perilous. A second’s hesitation could cost someone their life.

  This new member would need to impress the shit out of the entire team to advance.

  Last year at the tryouts, no one passed on to interviews.

  “Next on the agenda, I want to briefly update you on the upcoming training exercises,” Mac announced.

  Groans and moans went around.

  Their training was a bitch. It was worth it, but there wasn’t a time Myles didn’t leave sore from them. To stay in top physical shape, sharp with their shooting, and ensure their endurance remained high, they had to train hard.

  Myles glanced over at Ash, who grinned.

  “Time for me to whoop that ass,” Ash leaned over with a whisper.

  Myles smiled. “Bullshit.”

  He and Ash were extremely competitive when it came to training courses.

  “This one will be different,” Mac continued.

  Myles focused his attention back to his sergeant.

  Different?

  Mac’s jaw hardened.

  The tension in the air grew thick while they all waited for him to continue.

  “Oh shit. Something has pissed Mac off,” Brodie muttered, the only one brave enough to break the silence.

  “I wouldn’t say pissed off. Apparently, the governor of our beautiful state has decided to have our team assessed.” Mac shoved a hand through his hair. “He’s actually having all the SWAT teams in the state assessed.”

  Ash raised his hand. “Why? Have we done something wrong?”

  “Is there a complaint against us?” Iker questioned.

  Murmurs went around.

  “There was an accidental shooting involving a SWAT team and a civilian who was killed.” Mac paused.

  The silence was deafening. As a police officer, there was no way to avoid hearing the media criticize police procedure and protocol. Most times, accidental shootings were just that—accidents.

  But a few bad cops gunning down suspects had corrupted the media and turned them against the decent men and women who wore the badge proudly.

  “They are bringing in a company who are the leading experts on SWAT teams. The purpose is to study us and offer expert advice to ensure we have safe weapons procedures. This is a way for us to be proactive in decreasing the chances of unwanted incidents.”

  Myles nodded. It sounded like a solid plan. It wouldn’t hurt for them to have some outside eyes looking at them. He and the others would never be opposed to making sure they were the best at what they did.

  The meeting went on with additional questioning about the assessment before Mac and Dec continued on with standard business.

  “How’s Deana?” Myles stood from his chair.

  The meeting was adjourned, and the room began clearing out.

  Ash’s wide grin spoke volumes. Myles had known with one glance at Ash and Deana, that they would be perfect for each other. Myles couldn’t ever remember seeing the gleam in Ash’s eyes before Deana.

  “She’s doing great. We have about another month or so until the baby is here.” Ash walked out of the conference room.

  “Already?” Myles’s head whipped around. “Time sure passes by fast.”

  They made their way through the precinct. Ash had met his fiancée at the elementary school, where he was the DARE officer. Deana was a fifth-grade teacher, and apparently, there was more to be found at the school besides kids wanting to get to know the police better.

  “It does. We’re almost done with the nursery. Deana got so much stuff at the baby shower. I don’t know how the baby will use all of it.” Ash laughed.

  Myles’s attention was drawn to the sight of their captain striding through the other side of the bullpen. Captain Spook was deep in
conversation with a tall, older white man in a business suit. But it wasn’t them who held Myles’s attention.

  It was the woman walking behind them.

  She had long, thick hair that fell past her shoulders. She was curvy but toned, dressed in her dark business suit and heels.

  Their eyes locked briefly, and Myles’s tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. She followed the men into the captain’s office.

  “Who was that?” Myles cut Ash off.

  They paused in place in the center of the bullpen. Now that it was later in the morning, everyone was officially at work.

  “That’s Earl Sutton, the owner of Logistics Intelligence Services,” Ash said.

  Myles turned his sights back to Ash. “How do you know?”

  “His company is top-notch. I think you will also enjoy the fact that Mr. Sutton is an Army vet, such as yourself.”

  Myles nodded, instantly having respect for the older man. “Who was the woman behind him?”

  “Here you go.” Ash shook his head with a laugh. “We are about to be audited, and you’re wondering about the pretty woman?”

  “Hell yeah. Did you see her?” Myles grinned. He scratched his beard. “Oh, wait. Never mind. All you can see is Deana.”

  “You damn right. My eyes are only for my woman,” Ash agreed. He slapped Myles on the back. He swiveled and began reversing toward the front of the station. “I got to go meet Deana. She has a doctor’s appointment.”

  “Cool. We can meet up later,” Myles said.

  Ash gave him a small salute before turning around.

  Myles looked back at the door that led to the captain’s office and sighed.

  Ash was right.

  They had a lot coming up, and he had to focus.

  There was no time to stand around pining for a woman like he was a fifteen-year-old boy trying to draw up the courage to approach his crush.