Page 77 of Shattered

Under normal circumstances, we would have been more hands-on in the entire operation, however, when Little became suspicious shortly after their reunion at the bar, Lanie improvised. She told him she’d been placed on administrative leave from the FBI while they investigated a series of complaints. He bought it and after that, the DEAthought it best to minimize communication between the two agencies. Since Noah’s job was to cover her ass, he went radio silent as well. As much as it sucked ass to admit it, they’d been right in their ask. Had either one of them been aware of what was happening with Jade, they would’ve blown off the investigation in order to get on the first plane to California.

The past couple of weeks without them had been torture and from the way Lanie was barreling toward us, the feeling was mutual.

“Brace.” Keaton chuckled.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.” She threw herself into my arms, knocking me back a step. “Is she okay? Are you? Fuck, I hate this undercover shit.”

“Take a breath, Lanes. She misses you, but otherwise is doing okay.”

She stepped back, swiping a stray tear with the back of her hand.

“When we’re done here, I’m coming over. Fair warning, I might not leave for a week.”

“Same goes for me.” I turned to Noah. He embraced me with a back-slapping hug, then did the same to Keaton.

Between our weekly updates from the DEA and the occasional ones from Waverly, we knew Brandon Little had taken a serious interest in Lanie, beyond rekindling their childhood friendship. The guy was smitten, and I have no doubt the idea of having an FBI agent in his back pocket didn’t hurt either.

“It’ll be good to have you both back,” I said as we joined the tactical team and prepared for our mission.

“All right, people,” Hendricks addressed the room. “We have forty-five minutes before the players arrive. Cameras and audio are up and recording every square inch of thetrain yard. Stay alert and wait until you’re given the signal for takedown.”

Darkness blanketed the sky, providing adequate cover for my team as we held our position on the southwest corner of the yard, hidden among the decommissioned railcars, which littered the edges of the two-acre property. Our drug enforcement counterparts were spread out on all sides.

Little arrived five minutes early with five other men, four of which were identified as lower-level muscle. The fifth was a surprise, though it probably shouldn’t have been. Cray Townsend was one of TCX’s top executives; more specifically, he was their chief security officer. His name had cropped up in our initial investigation into the railroad as the one who was arrested in Vegas, then eventually released.

At exactly eight-thirty, two black Mercedes SUVs with dark tinted windows drove onto the property. Four Bratva soldiers exited the lead vehicle while three more got out of the second. It was obviously meant to be a show of strength, considering the seven men were armed to the teeth. Zasha Popov was the last to climb out. Dressed in a black Armani suit, the man screamed of wealth and power, even though Nelson discovered he’d only begun working for his uncle three years ago.

Little and Townsend approached Popov cautiously, at the same time a rumble drew our attention to the train sitting behind them on the tracks. Large metal doors slid open, presumably by remote, as Little’s men began unloading large wooden crates from inside, lining them up in rows.

This was it.

“Our entire fleet has hidden compartments built into each of the cars, allowing us to move large quantities of product virtually undetected,” Townsend explained.

Brandon led the Russian toward the crates, using a crowbar to pry off the lid.

“Impressive.” The deep accented voice belonged to Popov. He reached inside, tossing a brick of what I suspected was Tranq Dope to one of his soldiers. “The Bratva will take over all distribution of the product from Nevada west.”

“Wait. Hold up, Z,” Little interrupted. “Take over? That wasn’t what Macha said was going to happen.”

“Considering your boss has found himself behind bars, we’re offering you a new deal. Take it or leave it.”

“Regardless, he’s still my boss.”

The Russian barked out a laugh. “Not anymore, Brandon. The sooner you come to terms with that, the better it’ll be for everyone. Now, can we move on to our second order of business?”

Little signaled his men with a nod and we watched as they moved inside the train, then reappeared seconds later, carrying a rectangular wooden crate between them. From the military markings on the side, our drug bust had turned into something much larger than we anticipated.

“What the fuck?” Lanie whispered beside me when the box was opened, revealing enough C-4 to take out a city block.

Agent Harty’s voice came over the communication device in my ear next. “Hold steady.”

“You can get more of this, da,yes?”

“As much as you need.”

Popov snapped his fingers, motioning his men forwardto retrieve all the crates. Once they were locked inside one of the SUVs, he handed over a suitcase to Little, effectively concluding their business.

“Move. Move. Move,” Harty commanded and within seconds, bedlam ensued.

---