Page 51 of Without Fail

This had to be an inside job.

Every law enforcement agency would be on the way if they hadn’t already arrived, he silently assured himself. He knew that whoever the perps were, they would need to move in and out quickly.

And who was their target?

That would depend on who had infiltrated the estate.

If it was Winchester Armani, then he was looking for Aspen. If it was the perp from the blood-stained threat, it would be Ryker…he shuddered not wanting to think that way.

This could be something totally different.

He frowned.

If the people infiltrating the estate were sent by Robert Langston’s boss, then all hell was about to break loose.

After a nearly forty-five-minute drive, he finally barreled through the open gates. He rolled up and parked behind a line of police cars and a SWAT vehicle. Lights flashed and heavily armed uniformed men stood at the ready.

Reaching over, Marshal pulled his Secret Service ID from the glove compartment and slid from his jeep.

Several officers turned on him with weapons drawn.

“Stop right fucking there,” a big beefy SWAT officer snarled.

“Secret Service.” Marshal held up his ID and the closest cop stepped up and took the ID. Nobody lowered their weapons and Marshal didn’t blame them.

It was times like this when he wished he’d taken up the offer of going to work for Phoenix or Pegasus. They were both elite teams that helped law enforcement and while they were top secret from the public, every police chief in the Western United States was aware of their existence.

“What’s the situation inside?” Marshal asked the growly man who seemed to be in charge.

“What’s your business here?” The SWAT cop countered, squinting at him.

“I work for—” he was cut off when the cop with his ID slid back out of the patrol car.

“He’s former Secret Service.” The guy handed him back his ID. “And he works for Brick.”

They all lowered their weapons at the same time.

“Well, why the fuck didn’t you say you knew Brick?” the snarly SWAT cop grumbled, whose badge name displayed Captain Scott Zimmerman.

“He’s my boss’s boss.” Marshal shrugged, his eyes locked on the front of the estate.

“So, you work for Jaxon West?”

“Yes.” Marshal agreed even though he worked for both Jaxon West and Fighter Suwan. “Can I get in there now?”

“No,” Scott said with a scowl. “Are they on their way?”

“Who?” He clenched his jaw.

“Cobalt?” Scott blinked.

“Fuck,” Marshal snarled and yank out his phone to punch in Jaxon’s number.

Hayden picked up. “What’s up, Marshal.”

“Gunmen have entered the Langston’s estate.”

“Are you trapped inside? How many are there?” Hayden snapped out orders and then Jaxon came on the line.

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