by Margaret Kay
The two men got out of the car. Vale and Green were listening in from the surveillance house across from the smoke shop, and there was one unit watching the alleyway also listening in. The team had to know who would be on premises when they executed the warrant. Surprises were not welcome.
A strait-laced agent who could never work undercover, introduced himself. His name was Agent in Charge Ormsby. He presented the warrants for the two locations. He went over the operation in detail. Cooper had provided input from the Shepherd Security Team. They preferred to go into the smoke shop alone. The request was granted.
“Okay, that’s it,” AIC Ormsby declared. “I want all strike teams in position at both locations in thirty minutes. Wait to move in until I give the ‘go’ order.”
Before heading out in their three vehicles, the Shepherd Security Team gathered and Lambchop said a quick prayer for a successful mission. It was two sentences, short, sweet and to the point. “Lord, keep all agents involved in tonight’s raids safe. Protect the innocent and let us apprehend the guilty. Amen.”
They drove back to the smoke shop and moved into position. Lambchop checked his watch. It was zero fifteen hours. He whispered into his comms. “Team two in position at the back door.” He glanced at Mother and Jackson, whose bodies were also concealed in the shadows, pressed against the cold cement blocks that made up the back wall. Mother had a breaching charge in his hand, ready to affix it to the door to blow it when Cooper gave the go order. Cooper, Sherman, and Sloan were parked in front of the bar a few storefronts down from the smoke shop.
“Roger that,” Cooper replied. “Hold position until we get the go order.”
Lambchop held his weapon at the ready and waited.
“Okay, moving into position,” Cooper’s voice came through everyone’s comms. “The DEA is in position at the house in Laurelhurst. We’ll wait for their go order and execute our raid simultaneously.” Vale and Green were parked in front of the convenience store, two storefronts down. They’d take control of the scene once the Shepherd Security Team cleared it.
Four seconds later, the go order was given. Mother rushed forward and affixed the small explosive charge to the lock. He backed away, signaled the team, and then the concussion blasted the silence of the night. Lambchop opened the door. Jackson invaded the store first. Mother crowded in behind him, Lambchop followed. They heard smashing glass from the front of the store as Cooper and team one breached from the front.
Lambchop moved ahead of his teammates who were searching the back of the store and mounted the narrow staircase. “Federal Agents executing a warrant,” he yelled. He heard movement from above. He heard heavy footfalls on the stairs below him. That should be Sherman, Sloan, and Cooper.
He paused at the top of the stairs until the tap on his back signaled that the other team members were in position. He took two steps forward and kicked the bedroom door in. The Birdman rushed past him and into the bedroom. He entered immediately behind him. Dawn Spinks was alone in the room. Sherman had her face down on the bed.
“Where’s Ramos?” Lambchop demanded as Cooper threw the closet door open.
“Not here,” Spinks answered.
“Clear!” Cooper said.
From the hallway Sloan shouted, “clear!”
Sherman secured her hands behind her back and pulled her to her feet. She wore only a t-shirt and panties.
“Where is Ramos?” Lambchop repeated.
“He went out,” she said. “Can I put some pants on?”
“Where are they?” Lambchop asked.
“On the floor over there,” she answered with a head nod to her left.
Cooper switched the light on and picked her jeans up from the floor.
“Here, have a seat and I’ll help you put them on,” Lambchop said. “Or if you prefer, a female officer will come in shortly.”
“Can’t you let my hands free and let me dress myself? I promise I won’t try anything.”
“How about this? You cooperate and you can put your own pants on. We’ve been surveilling you and Ramos for a while. I know he’s a jealous bully. I don’t like how he talks to you. You have an opportunity to be free of him. One of you gets the deal. I’d like it to be you,” Lambchops said.
“The deal for what? What’s the warrant for?”
“Come on, Dawn. We both know someone is dealing out of this shop. Ramos is high most of the time. My money is that he’s the one,” Sherman said.
“Dealing? No, we don’t sell any illegal drugs here. Just paraphernalia.”
“Found the product,” Jackson’s voice came through their comms.
Lambchop glanced at Sherman. “Free her hands.” After he did, he nodded to her jeans. “Put your pants on and come with us. Our partners searched your shop while we were up here. They found illegal product.”
She shook her head. “That’s not possible.”
She pulled her jeans on, stood, fastened them, and then Lambchop held her upper arm as they descended the stairs. They went through the curtain to the front of the shop.
“First things first,” Jackson said. He held his DEA badge up and presented her with the search warrant. He then pointed to the box he’d pulled from beneath the display cabinet. “Looks like heroin pills, oxy, fentanyl, and methamphetamine.”
Dawn Spinks’ eyes went wide. “I swear, I know nothing about that.”
“But you know your boyfriend uses?” Mother asked, coming into the front of the shop behind them.
“You?” She asked.
“Ramos is a user, has all the symptoms. Who’s his supplier?” Mother asked.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I swear. I have nothing to do with any of that.”
“Let’s start with the guy that’s always in here that drives the blue Ford,” Cooper said.
“You mean Enrique?”
Lambchop brought up a surveillance photo on his phone. “Is this Enrique?”
“Yes, that’s him.”
“Is he Ramos’ supplier?”
“I don’t know anything about that. I already told you that. Enrique is Nate’s cousin.”
“Same last name?” Mother asked.
She nodded.
“Scene secure,” Cooper spoke into his radio, transmitting to Vale and Green. “But be advised target Nate Ramos is not on the premises. Location unknown.”
“Enrique lives in an apartment on Washington Street?” Lambchop asked Spinks.
She looked surprised that he knew that. She nodded.
“What’s his apartment number?” Lambchop asked.
“Two-oh-six,” she replied hesitantly.
“As soon as we turn the scene over, we’ll go there,” Cooper said.
“Where might Ramos be this time of night? Any favorite bars or hang outs?” Mother asked her.
“I’m not his mother. I don’t keep tabs on him,” Spinks said.
“But you’re his girlfriend and it’s common courtesy to let those who care about you know where you are. Or is that what Ramos has told you? That you’re not his mother? You’re just regurgitating his words,” Mother said.
“Come on Dawn, you don’t have to put up with crap like that from any guy. Does it go both ways? Do you just walk out of here whenever you want without saying boo to him?” Lambchop asked. He watched her cringe and knew he was right. “No woman should put up with that, ever.”
She looked him in the eye and was going to argue, but she merely shrugged. “I don’t know where he could be. Maybe at Enrique’s, maybe at a bar near Enrique’s place known as the Drop Out, but I don’t know if that’s its actual name.”
“Thank you, Dawn. You’ve been helpful,” Lambchop said to her.
Linda Vale and Ted Green, came in. Lambchop advised that Dawn Spinks had been helpful but claimed no knowledge of the drugs that were found on the premises. She knew the bar Spinks mentioned, the Drop Out. She gave the team directions to it. It was a block over from Enrique’s apartment. Vale fastened the cuffs around Dawn’
s wrists as the Shepherd Security Team left.
“Control, get me the location of Ramos’ apartment in the building on Washington Street,” Cooper said into his comms as soon as he and Jackson were in the SUV.
Lambchop drove one of their three vehicles on loan from the local DEA from the parking lot with Mother riding shotgun, or more accurately M4 carbine. All three vehicles headed towards Enrique Ramos’ side of town. Lambchop and Mother, Sloan and Sherman drove to the bar. Cooper and Jackson went to Enrique’s apartment.
“Second floor, southwest corner of the building,” Yvette ‘Control’ Donaldson’s voice came through their comms from Ops in the Shepherd Security building.
“The blue Ford is here in the apartment’s lot,” Cooper broadcast. “The unit she identified looks dark.”
“We’ve just arrived at the target bar. The Birdman is entering,” Lambchop reported. He parked near the front door. He and Mother were on alert as was Sloan, who was parked a few rows back with a straight-on view of the front door.
Inside, Sherman made his way through the smokey, dimly lit bar. So much for the smoking ban inside public establishments. This bar didn’t follow the law. It was remarkably packed for this hour of the night. He glanced at the patron’s faces. He’d made it all the way through. Neither Nate nor Enrique Ramos were there. “No contact,” he reported as soon as he passed through the front door back into the night.
Just then, through the doors to the twenty-four-hour convenience store at the end of the strip mall, both Ramos cousins exited into the night. Nate Ramos carried a case of beer. They walked to the alley, heading towards Enrique Ramos’ apartment.
“Shit, positive ID, both targets walking into the alley headed west to the residence,” Lambchop reported through his comms. “Repeat Coop, they are headed in your direction.”
“Let’s close a box around these guys,” Cooper ordered. “We can’t let them get away.”
“Birdman, stay on foot and follow. Undertaker, take the road to the north, we’ll proceed on the road to the south.”
All men acknowledged.
Lambchop killed the headlights and drove very slowly, shadowing where he estimated the two men would be, given a normal speed of walking.
“We’re in position,” Cooper broadcast.
Lambchop crept the car forward and parked on the street. He could see the apartment building.
“Targets are clearing the alley,” Sherman reported, following at a distance, and keeping in the shadows.
Out the side window, Lambchop saw the two dark figures cross the street and enter the apartment building’s parking lot. Sloan’s car circled in from the north.
“Lambchop you call it,” Cooper said. “You probably have a better vantage point. Jax is inside the building. I’m on the far side of the target’s car.”
“Undertaker, when I call it, come straight in and box off the north end of the lot.”
“Roger,” Sloan’s voice replied.
Lambchop waited till the men were in the center of the lot and the Birdman had cleared the alley. “Go! Go! Go!”
Sloan peeled into the lot, drawing the attention of the two targets. Lambchop accelerated and pulled in from the south. He slammed the brakes on just feet from their targets.
“Ramos! Federal Agents, get your hands up!” Lambchop yelled as he opened the car door, slid out, and aimed his Sig P226 out the open window.
Nate Ramos dropped the beer. The glass bottles shattered. Both Nate and Enrique Ramos pulled guns from the waistbands of their pants and fired, gunshots blasting the quiet night. Both DEA loaner cars took hits. The Shepherd Security Team returned fire, striking both men. The Undertaker grabbed his medical pack from the backseat of the car and rushed in.
Lambchop arrived first at their downed bodies and kicked their weapons away.
Cooper broadcast a status. “Two Tangos down, request EMS at our location, scene secure.”
A quick visual inspection confirmed that Nate Ramos had taken two rounds, center mass. He was dead. Enrique though, fared better. When the team returned fire, he had dropped to the ground. He had one GSW to his upper left shoulder, a second round in his thigh. Lambchop helped to hold Enrique still while the Undertaker tried to control the bleeding. Enrique Ramos cried out about the pain and cursed.
“The search warrant for Enrique Ramos’ phone, car, and apartment just came through,” Cooper said. “Collect their phones. Jax, the Birdman, and I will conduct the search.”
Sloan unclipped a key ring from Enrique Ramos’ beltloop. “Here, I’m sure the key to his place and his car is on here.” He tossed it to Cooper.
Local police, EMS, and the DEA arrived. They transported Enrique Ramos to the local trauma center. The Shepherd Security Team turned the scene over to the local DEA. It was after zero two hundred when the three vehicles arrived back at the hotel parking lot. The agency plane was transporting Echo Team to Virginia. They would not get transported back to HQ until morning. The six men stepped into the cool night air.
“The plane won’t be landing until zero six hundred to pick us up,” Cooper said. “We’ll leave the DEA’s cars at the airfield. Plan on heading out of here by zero five-thirty.”
Lambchop made eye contact with Sherman. “Was Brielle watching live?”
Sherman shook his head no as the group headed towards the entrance. “No, but I sent her a text to let her know we are all fine and to expect some gunshots when she reviews it tomorrow morning.”
“Good,” Lambchop remarked as they entered the lobby. “I always worry about her.”
Sherman smiled and slapped him on the shoulder. “She cares about you too.”
Delta
Lambchop sat in the front of the Lear Jet by the computer equipment with Cooper. Towards the rear of the plane, in the seats facing them, were Mother and Annaka. She was doing much better today. Having two days to lounge around the hotel room as they concluded the operation had been good for her. He’d also seen Mother relax more each day. His job as team leader had changed as each of his team members had fallen in love. No longer was it just about the missions. There were personal aspects of their relationships he had to consider.
He watched Sherman stand up and stretch. He was laughing about something. He and Sloan sat in the seats facing Mother and Annaka. Sherman had been shot the previous fall, took one that grazed the entire area under his armpit, just above his bullet-proof vest. He’d also taken one in the bicep and two rounds hit his vest. When the perps shot at them the previous evening, for a split second he thought about Annaka, Brielle, and Kaylee and how it would affect them if one of their men were to get hit.
He knew, of course, that he couldn’t let that influence what orders he gave on missions. The job they did could be dangerous, and he couldn’t position any man out of consideration of his personal life. Sherman would be a father later that year. His eyes went to Jackson, sleeping in one of the two seats that faced him. He knew neither Shepherd nor Cooper treated him any differently than before he’d become a father as far as mission assignments went. Lambchop accepted that he had to adapt to this. It was another growth opportunity for his leadership skills.
“You look deep in thought,” Cooper remarked, bringing him out of his musings.
Lambchop flashed him a grin. “You sound surprised.”
Cooper laughed. “Let me rephrase that. What are you so deep in thought about?”
“I’m going to talk with Shepherd and find out when Sloan and Sherman’s weddings can take place and if all of Delta Team can be given leave for a week after. I know Mother and Annaka could use the time, and since I was up in Alaska helping Mother for half of my last leave, I didn’t get as much time with my family. I’d like to go back to Pittsburgh for a few more days.”
“Are your parents okay?”
“Yeah, they’re both fine, getting older, but that’s a fact of life.” He knew Cooper’s parents had died in an automobile accident when he was a teenager. “I know they won’t be around f
orever, and I just want to spend some more time with them. I’m lucky they’re both here and I can.”
“Yeah, you are. We feel the same way about Madison’s parents. This last Christmas was special. They embraced Hahna as their granddaughter right away. It made me think about how old they are and how much I wanted Hahna to have grandparents in her life for a long time to come.”
“Your entire family changed substantially with you adopting Hahna. Change is a constant. Look at all the changes we’ve had in the past few years. Hell, Jackson’s about to have his second kid. The Shepherd Security family has grown a lot in the past few years.”