Page 138 of The Fixer

Backstabber

Charlie jerked awake tothe sound of a low growl. He reached out, found Luna’s head in the dark, and stroked it. “It’s okay. Good girl.” He gave both dogs instructions to keep quiet—by hand and verbally—and swung his legs over the edge of the cot. Staying low, he crept toward the window, ducking just in time as a light swept the glass.

He pressed himself to the outside wall and listened. Then he heard it: the sound of men arguing.

Adrenalin flooded his body. He slid his phone from his pocket, hit a familiar number, and hissed, “It’s showtime.”

He couldn’t believe he’d actually fallen asleep, but he was fully awake now, synapses firing in unison, heart punching against his rib cage, eyes adjusting to the inkiness beyond the window and recording what was unfolding in the Haven’s backyard.

His phone pinged with four texts—they were his cue. He leashed up the dogs, grabbed his Maglite, and inched his way from the bedroom toward the back door. He unlocked it and gripped the knob, musclesprimed and coiled, sweat beading around his neck and along his hairline. Four more tones sounded.

“This is it,” he whispered to the dogs.

He turned the knob slowly and eased the door open. Stepped out onto the stoop. A floodlight snapped on overhead, illuminating the back of the house. The voices rose and fell. Four other floodlights triggered, bathing the entire backyard in brilliant white. Two men in black with hoodies over their heads froze. Their voices died in their throats.

Charlie stepped off the stoop. Beside him, Luna and Sunny snarled. He advanced as the two men started running. Someone shouted, and an engine roared to life, followed by a cry and a thud. The motor idled before cutting off.

“You got him?” Charlie yelled.

“Got him!”

One of the two men dashed to the side but pulled up short when a different man appeared out of the shadows ringing the yard. He was flanked by three more. “I wouldn’t do that, comrade.”

Charlie couldn’t contain the crackling of pent-up energy in his veins. He let the leashes go and ran toward the one man who had paused to search for an escape. His back was to Charlie, and when Charlie reached him, he wrenched his shoulder and spun him so hard the guy stumbled. Charlie yanked back the hood and nearly stumbled himself.

He’d been expecting Cully. Instead, a wide-eyed Felix blinked up at him.

“Felix? What the fuck!” Breath stuttered in Charlie’s lungs, and his limbs vibrated with adrenaline. He shoved the man backward.

Someone hauled Charlie backward. Hard. “It’s okay, little bro. We got him.” Reece had him in a bear hug and patted his chest. “Yeah, we got him.”

Charlie flailed in his brother’s grasp. He heard huffing and growling and realized it came from him. Even as Reece dragged him back, Shane was cuffing Felix’s hands behind his back.

Shane handed off his charge, and the yard began swarming with people that had been ringing its perimeter, some familiar and some not. Among them were Reece, Noah, Micky, and Dewey. Dixie had tried her damnedest to tag along. Thank God she really didn’t have a portkey, or she would have appeared smack dab in the middle of their takedown.

Noah faced Micky, one fist propped on his hip and the other holding the dogs’ leads. “Comrade? Seriously?”

“Hey, I was trying to be friendly-like. You know, put the guy at ease.”

Charlie bent at the waist, hands on his knees. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Reece crouched down beside him. “You’ll be all right. That adrenaline spike was something, yeah?” He rubbed Charlie’s back in soothing circles. “You done good. I’m proud of you.”

By the time Charlie regained his breath and his balance, three men were being hauled off—Felix, his companion, and their getaway driver. Shane and another deputy began checking the vehicle. This one was red, an older model.

Charlie pushed three cleansing breaths through his lungs and waited until his legs stopped shaking before heading toward the vehicle. Reece was apparently playing shadow and fell in right beside him—which gave Charlie a huge dose of comfort he didn’t realize he needed.

Shane held out a hand as they approached. “Don’t touch.”

Charlie stood back. “That’s not the same truck, is it?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Which means someone else is out there.”

“Not necessarily. We’ll know more after we question these guys.” Shane gave them a chin lift. “Why don’t you boys lock up and go get yourselves a nice, stiff drink? We’ll finish up here.”

Noah handed Luna and Sunny back to Charlie. “Got ’em?”

---