by Erin R Flynn
“I don’t think so,” Walters sighed, and we both looked at Galvin. It wasn’t good when he winced like he didn’t think so either.
“We can keep a hand over their mouths, but the moment we toss them over onto the mat, they can yell,” Goran muttered, tapping the map where we drew out the plan. “What if other agents set up on either side of the mat with shields and guns ready warning them to keep quiet?”
“They won’t care,” Walters admitted. “They know we can’t just shoot them for yelling.”
“No, but they don’t know we can’t,” Carter suggested.
“That won’t help get this idea going,” I interjected before debates sparked. “People would have a field day if the vampires on the SWAT or whatever threatened to eat people. We leave two on this side to get them off the mats and into the buses to contain the noise. We push the buses over there after we take out the cameras and the guards so no engines.”
“They need tactical gear,” Walters said as we wrapped up.
“Your tactical gear will slow them down and hurt them because it doesn’t bend as we do,” I explained. “It’s better to not have gear as opposed to bad gear for us.”
“It’s her call,” Galvin defended when Walters shot him a look to jump in.
“Dogs are down,” one of the vampires told us as they returned, handing everything back to Walters’s people.
Carter and the other guy went out to check the moonshine and explosives weren’t rigged, coming back and giving us the all clear. “A few more people are up to make breakfast. I think it’s now or now.”
“Agreed.” We headed out, Carter and I taking point with the guns, Goran handing out the zip tie restraints as two others brought the bag. Everyone knew their job, Goran, Zlat, and three others bringing us the security and anyone awake first before the other two would then guard the moonshine and explosives. At the same time, the rest were pushing the ATF tanks to the back exit and the buses to the front.
I held up my hand, giving the countdown. Then we took off so we were too fast for the cameras. Goran was ready to throw me over as Zlat helped Carter. We landed together without a sound, each taking our sides. The five came over next, and one guard caught us as they did. I blinked, and they had him before he could announce we were there.
They had the guards and those awake to us and over the fence before they got all the vehicles in place even so it was perfect. More came over and started collecting people.
“There are a lot more people than we were told,” Goran breathed in my ear as he brought the next person.
I nodded, having heard all the extra heartbeats when we’d gotten on the correct side of the fence. Wasn’t anything we could do about it now. “If they’re alerted, remember to restrain and we can bring them out later.”
Everyone nodded as we reminded them. Normally I wouldn’t, but I didn’t know these guys. It was honestly a risk to use them on something so big, but none of them were lying when they said they were well trained or at least trained in security. Plus their age, they weren’t completely useless with that speed.
And how many of them there were. Over a dozen super-fast ancient vampires could get a lot done. Granted, there was a lot to be careful of like the fucking landmines and any who slept with their guns or any other surprises. I was impressed that they basically stripped them after they pulled them out of a building, leaving a pile of jackets, vests, and any weapons closer to us before throwing people over the fence.
Five minutes in and we had thirty people restrained and out of the camp. The problem was there were over thirty more and then we’d get to the women and kids who obviously weren’t the militia part. Apparently they were sexist in their crazy as well.
I knew our luck couldn’t hold out for the whole time, but the fact a baby wailing was what woke people up instead of all of us was almost comical.
“Switch to restraining,” I ordered as Carter and I headed to the building with the women and children. I kicked in the door, making sure we kept them all there and none of the kids went running into the mine fields when they got scared. “FBI, keep where you are and hold the kids.”
“Fuck you,” one woman said as she jumped up and went for something on a dresser.
I darted over there and grabbed her, pushing her up against the wall as I quickly restrained her, dragging her back with me as I kept my eyes on the room.
“I got you,” Carter promised.
“You are the last of the round up,” I warned the room. “Don’t be stupid, and don’t risk your lives or your kids.” I turned when I heard a click and saw a little girl, no more than ten, pointing a gun at me. “Honey, put that down.”
“No, we defend our home from bad people,” she said.
“I’ve identified myself as law enforcement. I’m not bad people,” I said carefully. “You shoot me and you’re the bad person.”
“Daddy says we only listen to him,” she argued.
“Everyone has a boss. I have one. Your daddy has one. Right?” I waited until she nodded. “I’m here because our bosses ordered it. This place isn’t safe, so we got called in. You shoot that gun and the explosives could go off. Do you want to hurt the others?”
“No,” she admitted, looking around. “The bad smelling stuff isn’t safe?”
“That’s right. And the landmines. You can’t have landmines around kids.”
“Momma says that,” she muttered, lowering her arm.
“Give me that. You’re too young for guns.”
“Momma says that too.” She handed it over and then went to some other kids, looking shaken.
I didn’t blame her. And I had some harsh words for her parents… Maybe after I kicked their asses because that was really what they deserved.
“I never thought to watch the children,” Carter muttered as I tucked the gun in the back of my pants. “I’m sorry, I should have. I’m old enough to have seen children soldiers. I thought your country was more civilized than that.”
I snorted. “Radicals are never civilized.”
“All clear, one death,” Goran announced as he joined us.
“Who?” I demanded, not hearing any shots.
“Guy had a heart attack,” he sighed. “Not our fault. EMTs are trying, but he’s dead.”
“Fine, get them here to round up the kids and check everyone in here for weapons. Apparently they train them young.”
“Understood.”
We covered the room as they came zipping in and out, grabbing children and moms while others cried. Finally there were only a few left who had immediately raised their hands in surrender.
“We don’t even want to be here,” one promised, looking ready to pop any second she was so pregnant. “Get us out of here please.”
“That’s what we’re here for,” I told her as I helped her up.
“My water just broke,” she groaned as we did.
“Crap,” I sighed, handing my gun to Carter and lifting the woman in my arms. “You got the rest?”
“Of course.”
I hurried over to the gate they now had open. “Baby coming, and I did not sign up to deliver.”
“Here,” one of the EMTs called out. I brought her to the ambulance and thanked them.
“Chief Thomas, you’re going to want to see this,” Carter informed me, waving me to follow. I did, and he handed me back my weapon. We went around the main building, past the one we’d found the women and children in, and to the one Goran was standing at the entrance of.
“Do we get to keep any as party favors?” he joked, nodding inside.
“No,” I snorted, wishing the same sometimes when I saw huge stacks or cases of cash on a bust. It would have been nicer than the crap salary I got even at my level given the amount of danger I’d also been in over my career.
I whistled as I looked inside. They had their own fucking armory, everything from small backup revolvers meant to be worn in an ankle holster, up to massive tank-type guns that couldn’t be operated by one
person alone. There were rocket and grenade launchers—a shit ton of everything illegal for sure. Thousands of guns and weapons. Probably at least ten thousand on the conservative side.
“This is a career making bust,” I chuckled, shaking my head as I walked out. “Show Galvin. If we don’t get a bigger budget for helping on something this dangerous again , I at least want a damn raise. Watch, they’ll approve it all and you’ll make more than me because you have penises when it was my damn idea.”
“This country is not as perfect as others make it sound,” Carter grumbled. “Why does your sex matter?”
“I think every woman asks that question constantly,” I admitted, heading back to the main tent.
“You don’t want to see the explosives and moonshine?”
“Nope, got my own messes to clean up at home. We’re just the raiding party. They do all the cleanup and press,” I explained. “We’ll give statements for their reports, and then we’re gone.”
“So we go in for the fun only? This is sounding better and better,” he admitted, smiling brightly.
The others were as well. Glad they were happy with the idea because I knew Galvin for sure would push hard after seeing the haul himself. Even the councilman was looking at the idea in a whole new light once he saw not only what we did but how well we did it.
Awesome. Maybe I could have one moment to enjoy the win before the next disaster.
I doubted it though.
13
The real danger was when we got back on the plane and two bosses met face to face. I knew it was happening, feeling the tension, and as much as I wanted to sit anywhere else, I plopped down next to Galvin.
“We really can’t have this conversation on the flight if you want me conscious for it,” I cut in before they started. “Can I suggest we pick up some pizzas and head to the club for a victory lap before you engage in what’s next?” Galvin opened his mouth to argue or at least blast me, and I shook my head. “Sir, we can smell the testosterone increase on you and everything else. Your fight response just shot up.”
“So did his,” he muttered, nodding to the councilman. “I’m preparing for whatever he’s about to throw at me.”
“You are and he is, but I’m saying there’s no point in denying it around paranormals.” There might have been more I was going to say, but we hit the runway and I was out moments later.
“I would truly think you were faking if we could not sense you were absolutely unconscious,” Apollo muttered as I woke back up with the bouncing of landing. “And you had this as a human?”
I nodded. “Something about the vibrations and like white noise of the engines no matter how loud just knocks me out. Guys used to joke with me that they wanted to learn whatever I did on long flights on missions or even when I was in the Navy catching whatever cargo flights or whatever was going to get where I needed to. It evens out with the fact I can’t sleep in a car no matter how hard I try.”
“Never?” Galvin checked.
“Not that I can ever remember, no,” I answered, shrugging as we stood. I realized I had double booked the club and pulled out my phone, turning it back on and finding I had a bunch of update messages. “We’ve got the whole dining room to ourselves. They brought those affected back to my house since people needed the club for practice.”
“And I bet beds were better than the booths or floor,” Goran added.
“Like I care if they have a crick in their necks after what they did to me,” I snapped, clearing my throat when there were lots of eyes on me. I moved to grab my gear and headed off the plane, thanking the pilot first.
Goran ended up taking my SUV, saying he’d get the pizzas on the way, and I went with Galvin in his rental while the councilman took the rest in his rented SUV.
“What do I need to know to make this work?” he asked when we were alone and out of earshot of the others.
“Honestly and off the record?” I checked, sighing when he nodded. “The right tach gear. It has pissed our offices off majorly that we have to get our own gear or just wear the human stuff like a big fat fuck you that you have to have us but not really like it.” I shrugged when he gave me a shocked look. “I knew women who felt the same. I was one of them. It’s not that big of a deal to get the right gear to accommodate breasts. It’s just bitchy.”
“I think mostly it’s just something overlooked.” He smiled when I snorted. “Am I wrong?”
“Sir, I complained about it several times, and I was told everything from quit whining like a little girl to telling me to go take my period meds. We get injured by using ill-fitting equipment. And yeah, I like my breasts not beat to crap or my ribs hurting or my sternum not messed up. It also lowers our score time on drills. A lot of all this crap with testing mixed gender teams versus all male teams that’s not coming up roses is part of that.
“You were an agent once. You know how even borrowing someone else’s gear can throw you off. It’s the same for us. I had to get my own gun because the FBI didn’t offer me the option for the right grip. Standard is standard, but I knew guys who needed different grips too.”
“I hear you, and it’s something to seriously think about,” he agreed. “We’ve been so focused on trimming the fat to make everything work that adding just never seems to be a reality.” He waved me to go ahead and let out what I was thinking when I opened my mouth but then closed it. “I opened the door. Walk through it.”
“There are about eight people I know personally in Havers’s office I would fire. They get their names on cases they sort of help out on just to keep under the radar, but they do nothing on their own. There’s no initiative, no drive—nothing but the desire to retire with a government pension and insurance. And as much as I get annoyed we don’t have a budget for even coffee like the other offices, cut the damn coffee.
“It’s crappy and fine, we get our K-cups. There is a lot of waste. People get their doctors to write them notes about their backs so they can get the two grand fancy chairs at their desk the FBI pays for. They’re not supposed to be at their desks that much anyways as agents. Cut with the extremes. The twenty dollar crap chairs the rest of us have are stupid. Take that two grand and buy several moderate chairs and be done with it. It’s what we did at the training center.”
“You mean have outside auditors? The FBI doesn’t like that.”
“No, I mean listen to your division chiefs and for real. Havers would kick out those eight too. He would say the same about the chairs. It’s the same gripes we all have that when people get to your level there’s whole other levels of bullshit and you forget about the damn chairs. But we’re still there at the center of it. My division’s a bit different because I can seriously kick some ass into gear. Brian does, and someone calls IA.
“For all of my complaining and criticizing about paranormals, they’re not wrong on their structures. They fight for their spots, and they keep fighting for it. We’re having a huge weekend of dominance fights. We go through training in the FBI and fight for the job, but then it’s all politics and who you made happy. The rankings and standings go away, which we both know is motivating and good for moral.
“I was one of the youngest SAiCs ever, certainly female, but what I had to fight through was a joke. If I’d been a guy or politically connected, I wouldn’t have had that problem. I was the very center of huge wins. That one bust today will make Walters’s career. I was on a few of those and was a footnote because I was undercover and couldn’t take the press pictures. I could have stopped undercover and gotten the glory.
“Others have because it was the easier ticket. It’s demotivational to watch lazy assholes get promoted when you bust your ass, and that leads to dead weight the FBI has no one to blame for but themselves. It’s not just us but other agencies—hell, other industries. But paranormals don’t do that. It’s dangerous if they get lazy or complacent. And not just from other paranormals but humans. They fight and get rewarded for the hard work, nothing else.”
“
There’s no politics or favoritism?” he asked after a few minutes of digesting all of that.
“Yeah, there’s some of it, of course,” I sighed, rubbing my tired neck. “And I’m definitely not saying the system is perfect. I have huge issues with how the rules are abused in other ways that human rules protect against. But Beta is a job of protection, just like the FBI, and I have yet to meet a lazy Beta because they can easily be replaced. Sexist and somewhat dismissive Betas, sure, but Vegas is working on that.”
“What else?” he asked after a few more minutes of digesting.
“They’re going to want better assurances of safety.” I rolled my eyes when he shot me a confused look. “I was the one person most assumed was the safest as a paranormal, working for the government in one of the best countries for us to live in, and instead government higher ups flew out in the middle of a huge, horrible case that never should have been allowed to happen and wanted everything from my being a lab rat to working at black sites.
“And that lab rat one was especially disturbing because he wanted blood samples, thinking of—I’m not sure I even want to know. But then he also wanted to screw the ‘specimen’ or whatever. So that’s not horribly disconcerting.”
“You are not the only one to think that,” he assured me. “That asshole’s been placed on administrative leave pending their IA investigation. Several of us are worried what other lines he’s crossed. I get you pressed him to spill, but what he said bothered everyone in that room, and none of them were there with bright and shiny intentions.”
“Good.” I left it at that, glad people were taking it seriously and it had started enough crap to not be brought up again anytime soon. I couldn’t say never because never was a long time and Americans tended to not learn from their mistakes, and I didn’t think this would be the instance they did.
We arrived not long after. I showed Carter where the prep station was for the hosts that had the drinks and whatnot. I gave Apollo a look to behave and that I wanted to talk to him.
“I’m going to clean up before pizzas. You guys are welcome to use the locker room.”