“And you trust him?” I scoff, not believing it.
“He’s given me no reason not to. The information he’s fed us the last few weeks is more than we could hope for, and he is the one who brought this meet to our attention.”
“And what is Dominic getting for this information exactly?”
“We get what we need, he gets probation and is asking for visitation rights with his brother.”
“No, not happening.” I stand, pushing back my chair. This is the last thing Mitch needs.
“Sergeant,” my lieutenant warns from across the room.
“His brother is off limits.” I shake my head as I sit back down, forcing myself to stay calm.
“I’m sorry, Liam. It’s a done deal. We get these guys, then we’re ultimately disabling two drug rings at the same time. And I honestly believe him when he says he wants to get out of the game and turn over a new leaf.”
“Yeah, turning over a new leaf my ass. He was only pressing his kid brother to join his crew two months ago. He attacked my woman and had her place broken into.” I shift in my chair, growing more irritated by the second.
“He was trying to keep him protected. He still has to play the part.”
“Bullshit. His brother is scared out of his fucking mind of him.”
“And that’s the way we wanted to play it. Until he realized he had you around, he wanted eyes on him. When you situated yourself in his brother’s life, he backed off. Listen, I know you don’t know him like I do, but trust me, he wants out, Liam. I’m giving him a chance.”
The room sits in silence for a beat while I work through this change of events.
Jesus, how is this going to affect Mitch? I’m not the type of person to keep anyone apart from their family, but can we trust Dominic?
“Is this going to be a problem for you, Sergeant Hetcherson?” Detective Marsh asks when the seconds click over to minutes.
“Not at all,” I respond as nonchalantly as I can when it’s the complete opposite of what I’m thinking.
Fucking A it is, my mind screams, but I push the thoughts away. Later, I'll sort this out.
“Good. Then we have four hours. Let’s get started.”
“Okay, listen up, boys. It’s been a long night, but we’ve got this. Stick to the plan, quiet feet in. Tate and Hart, you’re on the two men arming the doors. Fox, we want an explosive entry, and then we move.” I reposition my rifle across my chest and then lower my goggles down over my eyes, adrenalin pumping through my veins.
“Copy that, boss.”
“10.4,” is relayed back as the last of the boys fall into line.
Tate, first. Followed by Hart, Fox, and Sterling while I take up the rear.
“Team One is in position. Waiting for a go,” I whisper into my com.
“Stand by.” Detective Marsh comes through my earpiece. “We’re waiting on confirmation for the locked door.”
I wait for a beat, then another before the order comes through.
“Confirming door is locked. Door is locked.” It’s all we need to take action and in two seconds, we’re moving.
“Go, go, go, go, go!” We move together as one unit, descending on the two bodyguards. Before they have a chance to reach for their weapons, Hart and Tate pull them out of the line of sight to waiting officers.
“On my count of three, we go,” I whisper, my fingers counting down the beats.
Three. Two. One.
Fox, knowing what he needs to do, rams the door once and throws in the flash bang.
It’s the same drill every time: Fox moves to the left. Sterling to the right, and I take center.
“Police! Search warrant!”
“Police, stay down!”
“Drop your weapons! Put your hands in the air!” Every command is screamed out by the three of us. The smoke from the flash-bang barely clears before a hail of gunfire descends upon the room.
It happens so fast. Bullets tear through the air around us, as shouts and warnings are screamed out. Instinct kicks in as our unit falls back, taking cover to reassess our options.
“What the hell, Marsh?” I shout down my com. Adrenalin pulses through my veins at the realization we walked into an ambush. This was never meant to be a lethal entry, but a simple raid, with no loss of lives.
“Get out of there, now!” The possibility this is turning into a standoff grows stronger with the continuation of gunfire.
“Fuck!” The word comes out as a grumble, the world tilting on its axis.
My feet turn to lead in my boots and my steps become sluggish. I urge my legs to work, to pump faster and get out of the line of fire, but they refuse; instead, they give out beneath me and I hit the concrete hard on my knees.
“Shit, boss. You okay?” The question knocks me back, and it takes me a minute to realize I've dropped. Pain slingshots through my body and a ringing sounds in my ears before fading out. For a moment, I think I've gone deaf, but it comes back in a roar as I hear shouting.
“Officer down, officer down!” someone screams out, but scanning each of my men, I can’t find anyone shot.