Page 65 of Operation: Sharp Angel

Tessman glanced at Becca. She sat rigid, and her breathing appeared to be very shallow. He reached over and laid his hand on her forearm. “Are you okay?”

She nodded stiffly. Her gaze went to Shepherd. “How do we prove it so it sticks?”

“A confession may be the only way,” Shepherd said. “I’d like to send you in to confront James Standish. Let’s confront him and see what shakes loose. We’ll have the room bugged.”

“No,” Tessman argued. “That puts a target on her back.”

“Yes,” Becca said, her gaze darting to Carter. Then she returned her eyes to Shepherd. “I’ll do it.”

Shepherd glanced at Tessman briefly before his gaze shifted back to Becca. “We’ll keep you protected before, during, and after. And we’ll script your entire meeting with Standish.”

Tango

It was later that same night that Briana finally got the call from Flores she’d been waiting for. Jacob Hoch had hit the vodka hard, and by twenty-two hundred he was not only angry and looking for a fight, but he was drunk and belligerent too. Simone no longer had to do or say anything to provoke him. After going outside to view his dented baby yet again, he came in and decided he didn’t need a specific reason to beat the hell out of her.

Seeing ahead, how sideways it was about to go, Flores and Robinson had called for backup before the first punch was thrown. Bravo Team medic, Eddie ‘Needles’ Winston and Mother responded. Three of the four men drew in close to the house and waited while Eddie hung back watching the camera feed advising them of what took place in the residence.

As soon as Eddie saw Jacob start to beat his wife, he gave the go order to the other men. Then he called the police to report the domestic abuse and then called Briana.

At the back sliding glass door, Mother used a crowbar to pry the door off its track and pop it off. He, Robinson, and Flores rushed in and ran up the stairs. They went right to the master bedroom where Jacob Hoch repeatedly struck his wife with closed fists and kicks while she cowered in the fetal position in a corner, one of the three corners that was clearly in view of the camera. From the first punch to them busting in, less than three minutes had elapsed.

Hoch never knew what hit him. The three men were on him fast, pulling him off his wife. They secured him face down on the carpeted floor, his hands zip tied behind his back. He thrashed on the floor like a fish out of water and swore, the only thing he accomplished was waking both his children from the dead sleep they’d been in. They wandered into the bedroom, bleary-eyed and confused.

Mother kneeled in front of them. “We’re the police. Your father was hitting your mom, but she’s okay.” That was yet to be determined. Winston was on his way to the house, running through the backyards. Simone Hoch lay in the corner, crying, bloodied, and bruised. “We stopped him. A uniformed police officer is on his way to arrest your dad.”

The little girl started to cry. “Daddy hits her a lot. He hits us too.”

“Your daddy is never going to hit any of you ever again,” Mother said. He looked the older boy in the eyes. “I need you to be the man of the house and take your sister back to bed and stay with her. Your mom will be in soon, okay?” He knew the two children didn’t need to see any more of what was going on in this room. He doubted they’d go back to sleep, but the safety of her bedroom was where this little girl needed to be.

“Yes, sir,” the boy murmured. He glanced at his mom, who was still lying on the floor. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen her like that.

Briana arrived before the police. Robinson stood outside the front door. “How bad is she?”

“Winston is with her now, not sure. Hoch got in some good hits before we stopped him. They’re all still upstairs in the master bedroom.”

Briana shuddered. She walked past him and into the house. She jogged up the steps and went right into the master bedroom. Jacob Hoch was face down though he craned his head, trying to see what was going on in the corner his wife was in. He still yelled and swore at those in the room including his wife.

“You shouldn’t be in here yet,” Flores whispered, taking hold of her upper arm and leading her back into the hallway. “He can identify you and that will majorly fuck up this Op.”

Briana leaned against the wall and let out a breath. She’d only gotten a glimpse of Simone Hoch but it didn’t look good. She saw open cuts, blood, and bruises. Her heart ached that they couldn’t stop it faster before she’d been hurt so badly.

“The kids are awake,” Flores said, pointing at one of the doors down the hallway. “Why don’t you stay with them until the cops take him away? Needles also called for an ambulance. You’ll need to see who your client wants to stay with the kids.”

Briana nodded. “Let me know as soon as the police take that piece of shit away.”

“You know I will,” Flores said. He watched her proceed down the hallway and then disappear behind one of the doors, closing it behind herself.

The police arrived first. Robinson, still outside of the front door, advised them of the situation, showed his DSS badge and creds, and then sent them up to the master bedroom. The two officers didn’t ask him why the Diplomatic Security Service were on-site. Those questions would come later.

One look at Simone Hoch, still lying in the corner of the room, and they were ready to arrest the husband. The video theteam had recorded of the attack cinched it. And the information to look for the police report from the morning’s call had them vowing that they’d talk with the attending officers from that call.

Flores pulled the senior officer of the two that responded to the hallway. “Just a heads up that the vic plans to get an order of protection and a process server is on standby to serve divorce papers on him while he’s in jail.”

“Good to know. Thank you. Don’t worry, he’ll be there for some time, I’m sure. Judge Kinian is on tomorrow morning and she always denies bail or sets it astronomically high on these kinds of cases if the wife is hospitalized or shows up with the D.A. willing to press charges. Two questions. First, why are agents of the Diplomatic Security Service here? What’s the connection?”

Flores couldn’t tell him that they were in the process of their creds being switched over to FBI and DEA for the four team members of Bravo. Now that they no longer protected visiting dignitaries, who technically didn’t qualify for official protection, carrying the ID of a special agent of the Diplomatic Security Service, no longer served them. Shepherd had canceled that contract with the State Department, much to Bravo Team’s relief. They’d been dedicated to that contract for several years.

“No connection. We’re officially on leave. Helping Simone Hoch was a favor for a friend,” Flores said.

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