Operation: Beach Angel

by Margaret Kay

  As they did when they arrived back to HQ from every mission, they stowed their gear, and then went to Shepherd’s office for a de-brief. He was surprised that Annaka was there. She rose from her seat and embraced Mother. Lambchop felt the love flow between them.

  “I had no idea you were in Texas investigating Carstairs,” she said.

  Lambchop flashed her a grin. He knew Mother had talked to her daily while they were working the case. He hoped she wouldn’t hold it against him for not telling her. He hoped she would understand he couldn’t. “We have full resolution. I hope that will bring you peace.”

  They all took their seats and proceeded to lay it out to her, the names, the why’s. “Money, plain and simple greed,” Lambchop concluded.

  “I just do not understand how anyone could care so little about human life!” Annaka said.

  Lambchop knew that people like this existed everywhere. He was grateful that the majority of people didn’t know this evil existed. Annaka was now a member of the group that did. He felt sad for her, for that. It was, in a way, a loss of innocence.

  “Are you satisfied now, babe?” Mother asked.

  “How did I not know Patrick Keeling had a thing for me? And why didn’t he just ask me out?”

  “That’s something we may never know,” Lambchop answered. “His cousin did say that he was an odd kid. By today’s standards, he’d probably be diagnosed someplace on the Autism spectrum. It may be, he socially did not know how to approach you.”

  “I guess that’ll have to be good enough of an answer,” Annaka said. “Thank you for getting me answers and bringing those responsible to justice, everyone.”

  Shepherd sent her to the kitchen to visit with Angel. “Good job on this one, team. I read your initial mission reports. Make sure you get the full reports in by zero seven hundred tomorrow morning. The Paulo woman killing herself was rough on a few of you, I’m sure. Make sure you all check in with Lassiter tomorrow. He’s out of the office today, the flu, so unless you really need to talk with him, let him rest today. That’s it. Check your assignments. A few of you are scheduled to man Ops over the next twenty-four hours.”

  After the briefing, Lambchop took the stairs up to eight. He didn’t go to his office. He went to Michaela’s lab. Upon entering, he found it dark and uninhabited. He glanced at his watch. It was eleven hundred hours. He wondered where Michaela was. He went directly to Ops, entered his code into the door security and pressed his palm to the scan pad. Only Yvette was inside when he poked his head in.

  “Hi, Yvette. How are you today?”

  “Good,” she said, standing to stretch.

  “Who is on with you today?”

  “Miraldi left an hour ago and Cooper will be on in less than an hour. We’re running on minimal staffing the last few days. Smith was on for nearly twenty-four hours, so he’s crashed out in his office.”

  Lambchop shook his head. Whenever both Alpha and Delta Teams were in the field, Ops was left short staffed. He’d have a deeper conversation with Cooper about the proposal to blend their teams to create better coverage and more balance for the men, sooner rather than later. “What about Dupont?” Brad Dupont was an Ops analyst who normally worked overnight Friday through Sunday, forty hours in three days. He was also available to pick up a shift on other days when really needed.

  “He’s out with the flu. Miraldi had it the beginning of the week. Michaela is out with it too. Angel said she hasn’t kept anything down for two days.”

  “Michaela? Did Doc prescribe her an anti-nausea drug?”

  Yvette shrugged. “I don’t know. You’ll have to ask Doc. And hey, you do know that Charlie Team will be in tomorrow for the pre-mission briefing for the next DEA Partner Mission, right?”

  “Yeah, the three of them plus Doc, me, and Mother are going on it. Powder is still out on bereavement.”

  “I’ll get a few days off with all the Ops coverage the majority of Alpha Team being in will provide.”

  Lambchop felt a renewed determination to get a new staffing model proposal together with Cooper to present to Shepherd. Yvette, or anyone staffing Ops alone was not good. Often, when things went sideways, it happened fast, and both Ops analysts were needed to handle an emergency. “Do you want me to stay until Cooper comes in?”

  “You’re on as of sixteen hundred. Shepherd is in his office. If any shit hits the fan, I can call him. I’ll be fine. You have less than four hours before you’ll pull a twelve-hour shift. Go to your office and get a nap.”

  “If you need anything, you can call me too. I don’t mind.”

  “Thanks, Lambchop.” One of her phone lines rang. She nodded to him as she tapped her headset and accepted the call. “Ops, go.”

  Lambchop closed the door behind himself as he left. He knew he really should go to his office and take that nap, but instead, he took the stairs down to the fourth floor, to the medical suite. Doc was in his office. He tapped on the open doorjamb when Doc didn’t look up.

  “Hey,” Doc greeted, his eyes focusing on Lambchop. “I heard your teams were back already. Good work in Midland.”

  Lambchop nodded. “Yes, the pieces fell into place. I think Annaka is satisfied with the resolution.”

  “That’s good. She went through a lot because of them.”

  “The FBI may have asked for our assistance, but as far as I’m concerned, she was the client,” Lambchop said.

  Doc agreed.

  “So, I hear Michaela is really sick with the flu, can’t keep anything down. I was thinking of bringing her some chicken soup, ginger ale, and flu medicine. Do you have any of those anti-nausea pills you gave me when I had the flu last year? Can I bring her a few?”

  “You mean the Zofran?”

  “Yeah, the little white pill that melts in your mouth,” Lambchop agreed.

  Doc went into the cabinet he kept the medications in. He pulled out a strip of six silver foil blister packs. “I’m only giving you six for her. One every eight hours as needed. If her nausea doesn’t stop by the time she uses all these, I need to see her.”

  Lambchop took them and slid them into his pocket. “Thanks. I’ll tell her.”

  “Rest and lots of fluids. Staying well hydrated can help prevent the nausea.”

  Lambchop nodded.

  Doc’s cell phone rang. He answered it. “Yes?” There was a pause while he listened. “I’ll be right up.” He hit end and grabbed his in-office medical pack. He stepped to the door.

  “What’s wrong?” Lambchop asked as he followed him into the hallway.

  “Shepherd’s been having nerve pain sensations down his left leg. He’s in his penthouse apartment, got a bad one going.”

  “How long has this been going on?”

  “About a month. The pain is getting more severe. That is common with nerve damage.”

  At the stairs, Doc went up, Lambchop went down. As he descended to the second subbasement level where the parking lot was, he wondered why after nearly five years, Shepherd would just be having painful sensations. He knew Shepherd physically pushed himself. He had a home gym off his master bedroom suite where he spent hours a day doing his therapy, strung up on a harness, ‘walking’ on the treadmill. He also lifted three days a week. The man was in phenomenal physical shape. He thought a prayer of healing, pleading with God to bring him peace and alleviate the pain. Shepherd had been through so much since he’d been shot and partially paralyzed.

  Lambchop put his car in park outside of Michaela’s condo. He dialed the phone.

  “Hello,” she answered, sounding very congested and exhausted.

  “Hi. I heard you’re sick. You sound terrible.”

  “Yes. I think it’s the flu.”

  “I’m out front. I stopped at the store and got you some chicken soup and a few other things to help get you through. Can I bring it up to you?”

  “You did? That is so sweet of you.”

  “Yeah, Yvette told me you weren’t feeling well.”

  “Sure, come
on up. I’ll unlock the front door.”

  Lambchop grabbed the two grocery bags on his passenger seat and exited his vehicle. He entered the building and went to her door. He pushed it open and found her leaning against the wall near the swing doors into the kitchen. She wore black leggings and an oversized sweatshirt. Her nose was red and raw looking. Her skin was pale, and her eyes were puffy.

  “Oh, Michaela. You look like you feel like shit.”

  “I do.” She frowned.

  He went into the kitchen and set the bags to the counter. He held up the container of soup. “Chicken noodle. It’s still warm.” He took the lid off.

  The aroma assaulted her, and her stomach heaved. Bile rose in her throat and she dropped her head over the sink.

  “I’m so sorry,” he said as she retched into the sink.

  He held her hair back.

  “I don’t think I’m going to be able to eat anything but thank you.”

  Lambchop pulled the six pack of pills sealed between foil from his pocket. “Zofran, a powerful anti-nausea drug, from Doc. One every eight hours.” He opened one of the blister packs and handed it to her. “Dissolve it under your tongue.”

  “Thank Doc for me.”

  He poured some soup into a mug. “I thought I’d get you situated and then I have to go back to the office. I’m on a twelve-hour shift starting at sixteen hundred. I can come after it and check on you.”

  She dropped her head against his back and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Thank you. But you don’t need to come back. I’m going to try to eat and then go back to bed. If I’m lucky, I’ll sleep through till the morning and hopefully feel better.”

  “The Zofran should help settle your stomach. Doc said you really need to hydrate well. I’ll text you later and see how you’re feeling.”

  “Thank you, Landon,” she said, taking him in another embrace.

  Lima

  Two days later, Lambchop settled into the padded chair at the conference table in Shepherd’s office. It was zero nine hundred. He’d been called in to cover Ops at zero three hundred. Yvette woke him, asking him to come in because she now had the flu. He arrived to find her barfing into the trash can in Ops. He’d leave and go home to catch some well-needed sleep after lunch. Shepherd finished up what he was doing at his desk and rolled over as Cooper came in, shutting the door behind him.

  “Thank you for coming so quickly, gentlemen,” Shepherd said. “I literally have twenty minutes before a call with a potential client.” He paused, and his gaze swept between Lambchop and Cooper. “Charlie Team is delayed with a problem they have encountered at the Miami power grid. We are postponing the next DEA Partner Mission for a few days.”

  “Is there anything we can do to help resolve the issue in Miami?” Cooper asked.

  “No, it’s old technology onsite. It will just take a little time to adapt the equipment. Your brother, Michael, has taken the lead on it, but it will require more hands on the equipment, so we’ll leave Charlie Team onsite with Echo for a few more days so they don’t fall behind schedule,” Shepherd said.

  “Glad he’s an asset to the team,” Cooper said.

  “But the good news is, I have rearranged a few jobs and found a date we can shut down so that Sloan and Sherman can be married.”

  Cooper chuckled. “You may want to rephrase that.”

  “I’m not opposed to marrying them, but I think Kaylee and Brielle might have a problem with that,” Lambchop joked.

  Shepherd laughed. “You know what I mean. Next Saturday is the day. Alpha, Delta, and Charlie will be at HQ.”

  “Sloan, Sherman, and the girls will be happy. Thank you, Shep,” Lambchop said.

  “All of Delta Team will be on leave the week following the ceremony. I know neither you nor Mother had a proper leave after Christmas.”

  “That’s very generous of you, thank you,” Lambchop said. “I know Mother will appreciate it as much as I do.”

  Shepherd’s eyes shifted to Cooper. “Charlie Team, you and Jackson will go out on the next DEA Partner Mission the Monday following the ceremony.”

  “Will that leave you staffed sufficiently at Ops with Delta off? I could stay and help cover if you need me,” Lambchop offered.

  Shepherd shook his head no. “Not necessary. Besides, you only got three days off last cycle. You are due. We’ll have plenty of coverage for Ops.”

  Lambchop nodded.

  “Have a proposal for the location of the wedding and security concerns on my desk by the end of the day,” Shepherd ordered.

  Lambchop and Cooper would work together on it. “There is one more thing I’d like to discuss if you have just a few more minutes,” Lambchop said.

  Shepherd nodded and focused his attention on him.

  “Alpha and Delta Teams work flawlessly together. You said at a previous meeting that you are being careful to schedule Alpha Team enough to keep their operational skills honed while still allowing more time for Jackson and Doc to be home. Soon, Garcia and Sherman are going to be fathers too, and I know Sloan and Kaylee want to start a family in the next year. If we were to blend Alpha and Delta Teams more, we could achieve that goal while providing better balance for the guys with wives and kids and better coverage for Ops while allowing for greater field time for the guys who don’t have families or want more field time.”

  “Part of the problem is the DEA Partner Missions require a six-man team,” Cooper began.

  “I won’t tell Madison you said that,” Shepherd said.

  “Figure of speech,” Cooper said with a smirk.

  “They run best with six men, it’s not really required,” Shepherd corrected him.

  “True, but six is optimal,” Lambchop agreed.

  Shepherd nodded.

  “And you really do need two to three members of the teams to help cover Ops when we are not in the field,” Lambchop said.

  “We are planning to have Charlie Team on the Power Grid Protection Project fifty percent of the time, fifty percent on the DEA Partner Missions and other traditional cases,” Cooper added. “Lambchop and I have been talking about a nimbler approach to staffing that should increase the amount of work we can get done.”

  “I’m all ears,” Shepherd said.

  “By blending Alpha and Delta Teams to a greater degree, we can achieve greater coverage. Including Sherman and Garcia, we have five team members with families. I’m including Madison in that count, but not myself,” Cooper said. “I still enjoy the field time and wouldn’t want it reduced by more than a quarter for me.”

  Shepherd chuckled. “That’s only because you don’t like the admin shit.”

  Cooper laughed. “I have been honest about it.”

  “And with Jackson and Brielle taking on some of it, we’ve lightened your load,” Shepherd reminded him.

  Cooper nodded. “You have.”

  “But you are still number two in charge of this agency,” Shepherd reminded him. “I need you here fifty percent of the time, John.”

  Cooper frowned and shook his head. “I don’t want to be in the office fifty percent of the time, Shep. Can we make it twenty-five percent?”

  “We can talk more about it,” Shepherd said. “Continue with your staffing suggestions.”

  “So, we identified five team members who we want to reduce their field time to only fifty percent of the time. Them plus me are your six-man team completing two DEA Partner Missions a month. Elizabeth will take care of Hahna so Madison and I can be away together. Pair two of Lambchop, Sloan, or Mother with Charlie Team twice and you have a total of four DEA Partner Missions covered. Run them at the same time and we’ve knocked out four DEA Partner Missions in two weeks. Four of us can then pick up other cases two weeks out of the month.”

  “Madison, Jackson, Garcia, Doc and Sherman are the new part-time field team, Cooper, Sloan, Mother, and I are the full-time field team,” Lambchop said. “And this model allows us to nimbly move Sloan over to a part-time status by rotating in Doc when he and
Kaylee have a kid, keeping a medic on the team.”

  “And this increased office time creates a better balance for the men with families and helps to staff Ops. I know that’s been an issue when most of Alpha and Delta Teams are in the field,” Cooper said.