“So, she hasn’t taken ya back then?” Tate sticks his jab in. “You’re losing your touch, boss.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I growl. Yes, growl, because sitting around waiting for some bullshit meeting is pissing me off.
“Jesus, I think she’s broken you,” Sterling comments just as the lieutenant steps into the room.
“Hetcherson, we’re ready for you.” His eyes only come to me and even as he keeps his stare on me, it’s unreadable.
“Coming.” I stand and nod for the boys to follow me.
“You know what this is about?” Hart asks as we make our way down to the briefing room.
“Nope. I’m as clueless as you,” I tell him before stepping into the room we use for briefings before call outs.
“Sergeant, you remember Detective Katie Marsh from organized crime division.” The lieutenant motions to the redhead at the head of the briefing table.
“Good to see you again, Katie.” I keep my annoyance out of my voice. Her presence here tonight means she has a job for us, and as much as I love the thrill of taking down whichever crime boss she has her sights set on, irritation bubbles just below the surface. It looks like my grand plans of knocking on Liberty’s wall one last time are going to have to wait.
“Yeah, I’m not sure you’ll be happy to see me after this.” She clicks a button on the small remote in her hand and brings up the case file on the large monitor.
“Nah, we’re always happy to see you.” Hart enters the conversation, taking the seat closest to her, and I catch Katie’s slight blush.
Hmm, interesting.
“Right. Okay, well, we don’t have much time, so let’s get started.” She shakes her head as if she’s clearing something from her mind and moves her eyes back to mine. “We’ve been gathering intel on Miguel Morales for a couple of months now.” She hands me his file and continues. “Morales started out a low-level drug dealer, cooking in the basement of his mom’s house. Over the last six months, he’s risen up and got ahead in the game by producing an identical, recognizable, and reliable product to match his competitors at a fraction of the cost.”
“Making him a major player in the drug underworld,” I murmur, checking over his rap sheet. Other than a few misdemeanors, they have nothing on him.
“A major player with no ties to any organization. He’s a one-man show and making a killing.”
“Okay, so why the sudden move now?” I press on, wondering what they have on him to warrant a risky bust with no planning.
“He’s stepping up to the next level. Joining forces with Anton Gibson.” She pushes another file across the table to me. “You might know him. The leader of The Disciples.” The man Dominic answers to. Fuck.
“Yeah, we know him.”
“Anton has caught on to Miguel’s way of business and wants in. With ties to international crime syndicates, Anton is a major player in heroin and gun trafficking in this area, making him one hell of an asset to someone like Miguel.”
“That happens?” I can’t imagine two heads of crime joining together.
“We’ve seen it happen a lot. Groups with diverging interests, goals, and philosophies are working together to capitalize on each other’s specific skills or assets.”
“So who’s our target here? Miguel or Anton?”
“Both. A meet like this is a one-time deal.”
“When does it go down?” I ask, placing Anton’s file back down.
“Tonight in a nightclub over in Morningston.” She clicks on her remote, pulling up the blueprints of the nightclub on the screen.
“How much are we talking?”
“Street value is in the millions.”
Jesus, this is huge.
“The meet will go down in this room.” She points to a back room on the bottom level. “Two entrances, here and here.” She moves her finger to the entry door from inside the club and to the exit that leads out to the street. “You guys will come in through here.”
“It’s Saturday night. The club will be packed. How do we keep it contained?” Sterling enters the conversation when he sees how close the entry door is to what looks like a dance floor.
“Inside will be covered with my undercover agents keeping watch. My informant will be manning the internal door. We give him the signal to lock it from the outside, automatically eliminating the entry as a possible exit.”
“And how reliable is this CI?” Fox asks the question running through my mind. It’s all well and good to base a raid on this information, but we need to know we aren’t walking into a trap.
“Dominic Westin.” She pulls up a picture of Mitch’s brother, and my heart constricts in my chest. What the fuck?
“Yeah, told you, you wouldn’t be happy.” She tracks my expression.
“You’re telling me Dominic Westin is your informant? He’s a street level thug.” I can’t believe this shit. No wonder we haven’t been able to get a hold of him over the last few weeks.
“He was street level. But he’s been moving up the ranks. He came to me six weeks ago with talks of a big deal happening.”