Page 6 of All Twisted Up
I glanced over at our special agent in charge, Donovan Bradley. I hadn’t had much experience with the SAC since we’d transferred from Houston, but I’d seen the respect he got from agents in the office. That kind of said it all in my book. Loyalty was my middle name, so I appreciated it when I met a man who commanded it. He’d looked me in the eye when we’d shaken hands at our first meeting.
In my limited experience with him, I’d noticed how Bradley seemed solid and unafraid to listen to advice in making a decision only after he’d heard all sides of an argument. When we planned out the operation in Grand Cayman, he’d listened to Candy. He understood that a good Tac Team acted as the FBI’s tip of the spear. We were first in, last out, and Bradley seemed to understand that.
He was followed into the room by SAC Hope Bannister of the DEA and another man I’d only seen in passing. I didn’t know who the stranger was, but the scowl on his face wasn’t pleasant, which never boded well. I wondered if something was wrong or if his expression came from being dickish in general. The minute he opened his mouth instead of letting the two SACs take the lead, the question in my mind was answered.
“Did you tell your team they’re acting as backup only, Sorensen?” His smirk wasn’t nice.
Backup?
“I was just getting around to it, Turley,” Candy said.
My boss was pissed. There was an unmistakable tone in the way he replied.
“How are things situated?” Joy drawled. “What do you mean by backup,suh?”
I glanced over at the team medic, Alain Joy. The shy, generally quiet man had a lilting upper-class British accent, which I’m sure suited his patients well. There was something almost mesmerizing about the former SAS soldier that had a calming effect on people when they were hurt or under duress of some kind.
“I mean that, you guys—” Turley waved his hand at our team like he was swatting flies. “You’re back up formyteam, that’s all.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t know why the hell we need you at all.”
“That’s enough, Turley,” SAC Bannister said sharply. She wore a scowl. “As I stated in the briefing with Sorensen last night, we need both teams. We’re not leaving anything to chance, so stow the attitude. We covered all this. Bringing it up again when it’s been decided makes you sound unprofessional.”
I bit my lip to keep from smiling. I was the first to admit that I hadn’t liked Bannister when I’d met her, but after this, she was beginning to grow on me.
Bradley cleared his throat then looked at Candy. “Did you brief the team, Sorensen?”
“Yes, sir. They know the target.” He glanced at the board.
Bradley nodded. “Good.”
“I didn’t get a chance to tell them about the DEA team but now that you and SAC Bannister are here, we should get to that.”
“Fair enough. Continue, Special Agent Sorensen.”
Candy nodded. “The DEA’s Tac Team will be going into the building to retrieve Pedro Gomez. Our team will be covering all ingress and egress points to and from the building so that if he somehow manages to elude the DEA, we’ll take him down outside the building.”
You could have heard a pin drop in the room. Not a single person on our team uttered so much as a groan as Candy went on. He turned to Bannister who was standing closest to the door. “Would you turn off the lights, SAC Bannister? I’ll put up photos so that everyone can see what we’ll be up against.”
Without a word, she switched off the lights as Candy pulled the whiteboard out of the way and began typing on the iPad. Seconds later, an image of a tall, brick building appeared on the blank wall behind him. It was a street view. He stepped out of the way so everyone could see it and I leaned forward in my chair.
“This is the building where Pedro Gomez has set up his safehouse. The apartment he’s using is on the tenth floor.” Candy used a laser pointer, zeroing in on an apartment facing the street. “Ingress and egress points are the front door, and a back door which empties onto a narrow alley behind the building. That, along with a loading dock for small vehicles only due to the width of the alley, and two side doors, here and here.” Candy pointed to either side of the brick building. “The alleys on either side of the building are only eight feet wide, barely large enough for a small car to fit, probably due to the age of the hundred plus year old building, before cars were a thing.
“As you can see, there are businesses on either side of the building. The one on the left is a Chinese grocery with apartments above, similar to the store on the right.” He pointed to it. “This one is a tourist trap, catering to Chinatown visitors. They sell everything from Ben Wa balls to silk pajamas.” He shut off the laser pointer. “The only access to the roof is viafire escapes on either side of the building. The front door is the only access residents have to their apartments. The structure was built before elevators were a thing, so all residents access internal stairs to get to them.” He turned to SAC Bannister and nodded. She flipped the lights back on and the pain in my head returned with a vengeance.
“It looks like a fire trap,” Smith said, speaking up for the first time.
Napoleon Smith was almost as tall as Rex Monroe. I’d always thought the huge, black man could have passed as a Nubian warrior, right out of one of those gladiator movies. He had shoulders for days and was covered head to toe with muscles. I’d seen him take down two guys at once when they’d challenged him to a wrestling match, thinking their odds would be good in the FBI’s basement boxing ring.
“Right,” Candy said. “It is a fire trap.” He glanced over at Turley. “That’s why I want all civilians evacuated beforehand.”
Turley pushed off from the wall where he’d been leaning. If looks could kill, the daggers he was shooting at Candy would have toppled him on the spot.
“And you were outvoted, Sorensen,” Turley growled. “Trying to evacuate civilians would only alert Gomez and the multitude of sicarios he no doubt has guarding him.”
“Which is exactly why we should try to get as many people out of the building before we start taking down doors. I’ll point out for the hundredth time that cartel guys are by their very nature, armed to the teeth. Who knows what else they have in there in addition to heavy firepower. They could have fucking grenades or incendiaries.”
“Enough!” Bannister said. “Agent Sorensen, Turley’s team is responsible for what happens inside the building while yourteam is responsibleonlyfor making sure that anyone coming out of the building isn’t Mr. Gomez. We discussed this at length last night and decided on this plan of action. If you can’t live with it, then perhaps we should tap a different FBI Tac Team who will follow orders.”
I watched Candy straighten to his full height, struggling not to say what was clearly written all over his face. My boss was pissed.
