Page 68 of Worth the Wait
“Shit.”
Becca sat forward, pulling out the observation log to note the time and movement.
“Wait.” Freddie held up a hand to stop her. “Hang on.”
Becca narrowed her eyes, suspicion curling round the edges, but she paused her pen on the log.
“We don’t know he’s going in there.”
“You think he’s taking a scenic stroll past a drug house?”
“He’s new in town. He won’t know that’s a drug house.”
“Fred, hun, this a closed off street.” She circled her pen, glancing out the window to indicate the blocked off cul-de-sac. “There’s nowhere else he’s going.”
Before Freddie could answer, the radio crackled to life, DI Carrick’s voice clear and expectant:“Bravo One, Bravo Two, status check. Any movement at the target address, over.”
Freddie reached for the mic, heart hammering. He pressed down the transmit button, keeping his voice as casual as he could, and before he could even think about what he was doing, he said, “Bravo One. Negative movement. Area remains static. Over.”
A beat of silence, long enough for the sweat to prickle at the back of his neck. Then Carrick’s voice came back:“Received. Hold position.”
Freddie dropped the mic as if it burned him.
Becca stared at him, mouth agape, disbelief written all over her face. “You lied on comms.”
Freddie swallowed, holding her gaze for a beat. Then he clicked open the door, ready to get out.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Becca snapped, half out of her seat.
God, he hoped she’d have his back when this all came crashing down.
In his earpiece, DI Carrick’s voice came back, calm but taut: “All units hold positions. Tactical entry pending. I say again: NO action unless authorised. Containment teams en route.”
Freddie flexed his fingers around the door handle.Hold. Stay put. Standard operational protocol: contain, observe, wait for firearms or Territorial Support Group if needed. But protocol wouldn’t stop Alfie Carter from implicating himself in something he didn’t know about yet.
His body-worn camera was active. Red light blinking on his chest. Standard for any potential contact. But if he was about to go off-script, even by seconds…
The decision was already made.
He thumbed the toggle under his vest flap, and killed it. Then he ducked low as he slid out of the unmarked unit, keeping his body tight to the car. One fast glance across thestreet showed Alfie, clear as fucking day, being ushered into the house.
“Shit, shit, shit.” Freddie’s gut twisted.
He moved fast, keeping to the shadows, weaving through the parked cars along the kerb. His heart thundered loud enough he thought someone might hear it. Then halfway across the street, he collided headlong into another figure lurking low behind the hedge-line.
Nathan.
Nathan spun fast, all instinct and muscle coiled tight, before he clocked Freddie, and stilled.
Their eyes locked.
Two idiots hiding in the dark.
Both doing the exact same stupid thing for the same stupid reason.
Freddie jerked his head, nodding towards a narrow alley running between two garages. A spot shielded from the road, the windows, the surveillance teams.
Wordless understanding passed between them.
