by Matt Lincoln
“We could use some extra hands moving the lab tables to the second floor.” She turned to Sadie. “I don’t think we’ve met.” She stuck her hand out. “Rosa Bonci from the Miami office. You can call me ‘Bonnie,’ if you like.”
Sade took the handshake with a nod. “Sadie Rogers. I live nearby and know these old buildings.”
“Oh, hey, you’re the paramedic who helped Abbie last night.” Without giving Sadie a chance to respond, Bonnie turned to me. “There’s an old training room at the back of the building. Meisha and Kyle are in the back, waiting for you.”
“You should show Sadie how you’re putting the lab together,” I suggested. “She practically geeked out in the parking lot when I mentioned it.”
Sadie’s face lit up like a kid in a candy store. Bonnie rarely turned down groupies, and she happily led her new best friend upstairs.
“Don’t blow anything up,” I called after them.
I was only half-joking. Some years earlier, Bonnie and Joe “Clyde” Clime received some mislabeled chemicals. The small explosion that followed didn’t hurt anyone, and it wasn’t their fault, so it became a bit of an inside joke. It may or may not have helped lead to their nicknames.
My phone buzzed as I went back to meet Meisha and Davis. I checked the message, and it was Holm.
Went to the hotel. Want time alone.
I stopped outside the room where they waited for me. Holm and I had pulled off more than a few improvised missions over the years. Those situations worked out because we were a hell of a team. I knew him almost as well as I knew myself, and that’s why I got worried.
You need anything, give me the word, I told him. Short of locking him down or having someone tail him, there wasn’t anything more we could do.
“Ethan?” Meisha stepped out of the room. “Is everything okay?”
“Robbie said he wanted time alone at the hotel,” I told her. “The sooner we get her back, the better.”
We went in, and I sat with Meisha and Davis at the sole table. Its chipped edges and worn finish spoke to more than its age. I turned to Davis and asked, “Did you get in touch with Jones?”
“I did.” He slid a printout over to me and a copy to Meisha. “These are his instructions. We’re to meet at nine tomorrow morning, and then we’ll discuss our ‘urgent’ sale.”
“What kind of evil are we up to?” I asked with a bucketful of curiosity.
“When we meet this antiques expert, we’ll tell him you didn’t pay up on services I provided, and now the bill is due with interest.”
Meisha snorted.
“Why am I the bad debt?” I complained.
“I got back first.” Davis pinched the bridge of his nose. “In all seriousness, it’s because I’m better at playing the heavy.”
“Preach it,” I mumbled. “That’s usually my role.”
Meisha’s sad smile pulled at me. “Robbie will be back to himself before you know it. You’ll see.”
Davis frowned. “Is he really this light-hearted guy you two keep talking about? I just don’t see it.”
“Meet him when his world isn’t caving in.” I clenched my teeth. “He’s the best of us. This life hasn’t changed him the way it has most of us. He gets in, gets the job done, and is back to normal by the end of the day. Yeah, we have bad cases, and they eat at him, but it doesn’t destroy him.”
“Okay. I look forward to meeting him,” Davis said. “Meisha swears by him, too, and to me, that means more. No offense.”
“Only a little taken, Jarhead,” I chuckled.
We went over the fine points of the plan. What concerned me most was backup. Until the office was fully functional, MBLIS needed outside cooperation to handle some of the gnarlier situations. Fortunately, there was a convenient source of manpower.
“There’s a SEAL platoon idling at Pearl Harbor right now,” Meisha informed me. “I spoke with the CO, and they’re on board to serve as backup at any point within the next five days.”
“Great, a squad of frogmen,” Davis said with an eye roll. “You couldn’t dig up a few Marines?”
“She knows where the real deal’s at,” I smirked.
“Both of you stop, or I’ll get the Army Rangers instead,” she countered with an arched eyebrow.
That wasn’t going to happen. Our agency was too closely connected to the Navy. Even so, the situation highlighted another shortfall for the Honolulu MBLIS office. It wasn’t like the agency could fly in a team of agents from another part of the country on a moment’s notice.
“This is going to be an ongoing problem for you,” I said in a soft tone. “Do you have ideas for the future?”
A shadow crossed Davis’s face, and Meisha blew out a lungful of air.
“Until or unless something changes, we’re going to have to coordinate with units at Pearl Harbor.” A half-hearted smile appeared. “Lucky for you, as soon as we get Ronnie back, there’ll be time to go visit the powers that be. I’m sure it’ll be no problem to extend your vacation.”
“Super,” I grumbled. “It’s just what I had in mind for a visit.”
“Better thee than me,” Davis cracked.
“You’re going, too,” Meisha informed him. “United front and all.” She stood and looked at the two of us. “Don’t make me regret teaming you two together.”
She started to say more, but she closed her mouth and shook her head. Davis and I glanced at each other as she walked out.
“She’s worried, isn’t she?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yeah. This is a hell of a first case for a new office.”
“No kidding.” Davis got out of his chair. His phone chirped as he stood, and he checked a text. “It’s Dr. Bell at the museum. She says to call as—”
Gunfire erupted in the front of the building. Davis and I drew our guns and pressed against the wall just inside the door to our room.
“This place is already falling apart,” I complained. “Guess we better go save what’s left.”
CHAPTER 15
The back hall was empty, and Davis and I crept toward the open area. Stacks of tables and chairs from the station’s previous incarnation of a meeting and party hall afforded us a small amount of cover. Unfortunately, whoever was firing was on the other side of the cubicles.
“I’ll take the left, and you the right,” Davis told me. “Cover me while I cross.”
More gunfire spattered the ceiling and put out a few of the fluorescent light bulbs. Davis used the distraction of the sparks to sprint to the closest edge of the cubicle setup. I tracked behind, ready to plug any bastard who might show his face as I joined Davis.
“Where’d you pretty little birdies go?” The speaker’s tenor voice bounced off the high ceiling and smooth walls. “We expected more,” the voice scoffed. “The new kids on the block, and you can’t even defend your turf. Pathetic.”
The acoustics made it impossible to tell the intruder’s position. Next to me, Davis crouched and took a peek around the corner. He jerked backward, and a bullet ripped past where his head had been. Davis showed two fingers.
The light-fixture sparks were still going on my side. I snuck my look and saw three figures moving in the haze beyond the sparks. No bullet flew at my head, but that was a matter of time. I signaled to Davis that I had three. We still had no idea whether anyone else was trapped on the first floor or if they were all upstairs.
If these goons got upstairs, it’d turn into a shooting gallery, even if Meisha was up there. Our squints had barely ever shot weapons, and Stark was winged.
“Where’s my sister, you assholes?”
Holm’s shout rang through the building, and multiple weapons fired. I swore and broke around my corner. One of the three faced me, and the other two faced the other direction. I had surprise on my side, and I fired before he could squeeze off a single shot at me.
More rapid-fire opened up on Davis’s side as the two still standing on my side spun in my direction. I hit the closest one in his chest and n
eck. Blood sprayed in a wide arc as he reflexively fired a few rounds. They missed me and hit the thin cubicle wall behind me. The third intruder dropped to his belly, but that’s when Holm appeared from behind and stepped on his shoulder blades. He held his gun muzzle to the attacker’s cheek.
“If you so much as twitch a finger, I will end you,” Holm warned.
“I have two down over here,” Davis called out.
“Are we clear?” Meisha’s voice floated down through the fire pole hole.
“Stand by,” I hollered. “Keep your heads on swivels,” I said to everyone within hearing distance.
Holm cuffed his suspect and yanked off the guy’s black knit hat while I checked pulses for the other two. The first guy I hit had a faint pulse, and I kicked his AR out of the way so I could use zip ties on him. The second guy’s neck was torn out. He never had a chance.
As I checked on them, Davis showed up with his gun still out.
“My two are dead,” he said in a low voice. “Let’s clear this floor before we get traffic.”
“Copy that,” Holm and I quietly said at the same time.
“I’ll check the rooms on this side,” I told Davis. My side included the storage room and stairway. The old offices were across the bay. “Holm, keep this idiot here.” To said idiot, I added, “When we’re done, you better be ready with answers.”
He spat at me but only managed to hit the floor. Holm pulled his arms back, and the goon yelped.
Davis and I finished canvassing the first floor. The only access had been that side door. The big mouth who’d yelled while they were shooting up the place had been right about the lack of security. All five attackers had waltzed in and caught us with our pants down. This would never have happened at other MBLIS locations, but this office was barely even open yet.
Once the first floor was clear, we sent Holm up to clear the second floor. I didn’t want him anywhere near the shaggy-haired assailant we were about to question.
“How many of you are there?” I demanded of the suspect.
He glared and said nothing.
“This was a ballsy move,” Davis pointed out. “You walked into a potential lion’s den to do what, scare us? Ballsy, but not smart.”
Our guest snorted. “Who’s not smart? You morons left the door open and the lights on.” Ah. Shaggy was the loudmouth from earlier. “What kind of dumbass feds don’t guard their own doors?”
“Why did you come here?” Davis hissed.
“To hell with that.” I grabbed Shaggy by the collar. “We know why. I want to know how you found us and who your boss is.” I heard Holm speaking upstairs and knew I had to move this along. “You might wanna spill before my friend gets back down here. He’s not as patient as he used to be.”
“Screw you.”
I slammed Shaggy against the wall and put my forearm under his chin. He laughed in my face, and I shoved my arm higher so that his chin tilted up and back.
“Want to try that again?” I growled. “Who do you work for, and how did you find us?”
Shaggy laughed again. “You think someone who appreciates history wouldn’t notice that a place like this sold? It’s like you people wanted to be found.”
Davis shook his head. “Bullshit. I know how the purchase went. Try again, Short Stack.”
“‘Short Stack’? I’m calling him ‘Shaggy,’” I told Davis. My arm was getting tired, but I could hold Shaggy Short Stack all night. “And yeah,” I snarled in Shaggy’s cauliflower ear. “You didn’t learn a damn thing about this place through the sale. Tell me how you knew to find us here.”
“I recommend you do it fast,” Davis said in a casual tone. “When our other guy gets a hold of you, well, I can’t be responsible for what I don’t see or hear.”
Speaking of Holm, he stepped into my peripheral vision. He walked up to Shaggy and folded his arms. His eyes were wider than normal, and the rest of his face was as blank as hell. That look shook me, and I was his friend.
As Holm approached, Davis checked on the goon who’d had a pulse earlier. Davis looked over and shook his head. So much for more suspects to question.
“Last chance,” I warned Shaggy, but then I hesitated. “On the other hand, I think you’ll keep screwing around, and I’m over it.” I released Shaggy and shoved him, cuffs and all, toward Holm. I prayed I was making the right choice. “Do they need any help upstairs, partner?”
“Nah, they’re fine.” Holm’s nostrils flared, and he widened his eyes, so the whites showed. He didn’t do this often, but it was a trick that worked on some of the more recalcitrant suspects we questioned. This time, however, I worried that it wasn’t a trick. “They’re so fine that I told them to stay up there a while longer. You know, while we take out the trash.” He dropped his arms to his sides. “Are you trash, or are you worth keeping?”
Holm stood nose-to-nose with good old Shaggy, whose bushy eyebrows lowered.
“You don’t scare me,” Shaggy said, but he didn’t sound nearly as certain. “I have rights.”
Holm walked behind the man. “Hey, partner, have you seen this?”
“Seen what?” I asked, even though I knew what came next. The tough guy act was usually my role, though.
“Our friend here got more banged up than I remember.” I heard a sharp crack. Shaggy flinched but suppressed a yelp. “He broke some fingers when he tried to resist arrest. Do you know how many fingers he busted?”
“As many as necessary,” I answered.
Davis shook his head a little and moved back a bit. It hit me that I had no idea how he felt about interrogation techniques. I knew how far Holm and I were willing to go in most situations, but I didn’t know Davis well enough yet.
Shaggy’s face flushed so deep it was almost purple. “You can’t do this.”
“Do what?” Davis asked with as much innocence as Holm and I conveyed. “All I see is a suspect who resisted arrest.”
“I can’t tell,” Shaggy insisted. “He’ll put a hit out.”
“Like what happened to Redding?”
“Not if he can’t get to you.” Holm leaned in close. “We’ll protect you from him and his people.”
Shaggy swore under his breath. “Shit, man. You don’t know about Redding, do you?”
“What do you mean?” I demanded.
“Redding is dead.” Shaggy shook his head, and the greasy, wild hair waved back and forth. “You haven’t heard yet?”
“We’ll look into it,” I told him. “Look at it this way. When your little hit squad doesn’t make it back, but you survived, how do you think your boss will take that?”
Shaggy clamped his mouth shut. Holm slammed his hands on a bullet-ridden table. It rattled and shook but held up.
“That’s it,” Holm churned. “That’s it. You are going to take us to your boss, and you’re going to do it now.”
“Or what?” Shaggy sneered.
Holm whipped out his gun and jammed it into Shaggy’s chin. “Do you really want to find out?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I put my hand on Holm’s gun arm and spoke to where only he could hear. “You are done here.” I pulled the gun away from Shaggy long enough for Davis to pull him out of Holm’s way. “Come on, man, we can’t do this.”
“Why not?” he barked. “They’re doing God-knows-what to my sister, and we’re supposed to go by some sense of fair play? It’s not right, Ethan.”
“What you’re doing does not help.” I handed Holm’s gun to Davis. “You go upstairs and tell Meisha and Stark we need them down here. Bring the others down and take them outside. City responders will be here any minute.”
We did, in fact, hear the sirens at that time, and lights flashed in the windows at the front of the building. I wasn’t surprised that they approached without lights or sirens until that moment, as approaching a shooting in this situation could be a difficult call. Meisha must have had them on the phone.
Shaggy laughed when he realized the local police had arrived. He had to k
now that meant no more broken fingers, at the very least.
“Go, Robbie,” I ordered. “Let us deal with this stuff.” Shaggy opened his mouth, and I grabbed him under the chin. “Enough out of you.”
“I’ll be out in no time,” he bragged.
“Yeah, no. Not after shooting up a law enforcement office.” I handed him over to Davis and then went to the open outer door. I raised my voice to whoever waited for orders or action. “Special Agent Marston of MBLIS,” I announced. “I’m coming out with my hands up and badge on my belt.”
I hated this part because some trigger-happy rookie amped on adrenaline could mistake me for a suspect if they weren’t paying attention or got serious tunnel vision. Fortunately, it did not happen this time. The shift’s commanding officer met me in the parking lot.
“What the hell is going on here?” he demanded.
“The unsub in our case sent us some guests. We have four dead and one kicking.” I looked around the parking lot and didn’t see any unfamiliar vehicles. “Hang on a minute.”
I ran out to the street. Nothing was parked in front of the fire station.
The CO followed. “What are you looking for?”
“They had a ride,” I told him. “That means there’s another suspect on the loose, possibly armed, but I have no idea what they’re driving. Dammit. Have your people set a perimeter on this location, Lieutenant, and then come see me.”
I got back to our suspect as everyone who’d been trapped upstairs was led out. Meisha and Stark, however, stayed on the scene with Davis, Holm, and me. Meisha had looked outside while I was out there.
“They had a van, but it’s long gone,” Meisha told me. She turned to the lieutenant who’d come in close behind me. “Put out an APB on a black or dark blue panel van with a sliding door. I didn’t get a plate or see the driver, but assume he’s armed and dangerous.”
The only good thing to come out of the debacle was that we had a suspect on hand who wouldn’t be reporting back to his boss. Before I handed him over to a local officer for transport, I had a word with her.
“This one is mouthy,” I told her. “Let me know if he says anything that might help.”