Page 29 of Room Nine: Masters of Control

“Let’s get this shit bag handed over, turn in our gear, have a quick conversation with Townsend, and then go see our woman.”

“If we leave these pictures, somebody’s going to come looking for her,” Kerr says again.

I nod. “She went through all the bullshit to get one guy sent to prison. If she has to, she’ll do it again.”

Dem shakes his head. “I don’t like it.”

I inhale deeply and exhale slowly, rolling my shoulders. “I don’t like it either, but we can’t tamper with evidence without possibly fucking over these other women in the process. Do you want to risk their justice? I know if we asked Kyra, she wouldn’t risk it.”

Tying this back to Kyra and what she would want seems to snap them out of their rage-induced haze.

Kerr grumbles and holsters his weapon. “I’ll get the truck.”

Dem’s eyes slide back to the lump on the floor. “Is he dead?”

“Despite your best effort, no.”

He sneers and holsters his weapon. I stuff my phone in my pocket and help him lift Bobby’s dead weight. We carry him out to the truck where Kerr has already backed it up the apartment entrance with the backdoors wide open. We unceremoniously dump him in the back, slamming the doors shut.

The two guys with the pit bull edge closer, but seem smart enough to stay out of reach. “Hey man, is that Bobby?”

“What’s it to you?” Dem arches his brow.

The guy without the dog throws his hands up and takes a step back. “The guy gave my girl the creeps. I figured if the cops came around, it’d be for him.”

“Perfect timing.” I mutter as the collection team arrives on scene. Pointing to three people I don’t know, I tell the guy. “Tell it to them, if they ask. We’ve got to go.”

We drive to the FBI building downtown, meeting Caiden, Case, and Porter in the underground garage.

Case arches his brow at the empty backseat. “Where’s your rabbit?”

Kerr opens the backdoor to reveal Bobby who started moaning two minutes ago. “In the trunk where the rabbit food belongs.”

“Damn,” Porter says. “He looks like expired hamburger meat. Did he fall down a flight of stairs?”

“Something like that.” Dem shakes hands with Caiden.

“How’d your extractions go?” I ask.

“A lot better than yours, I’m thinking.” Case shakes his head and turns away from Bobby, grimacing. Yeah, his face is purple, swollen, and bloody, and if he doesn’t lose a tooth or two, I’ll be surprised. Dem got him good.

“Where’s Lee and Reese?”

“Inside with Victor and our handler, Sandy.” Case points to the elevator. “Third floor, first door on the right. They’re waiting for you. We’ll show the guys where to take Bobby.”

“Thanks.” I shake Case’s hand, pulling him in close. “Don’t let my guys shoot him. They really want to.”

Case chuckles. “I’ll do my best.”

There are two sections of every three-letter government building. The forward-facing one with the marble floors, large windows, conference rooms, and brightly lit offices. You access those areas through the front door or guest garage. Then there are the tactical areas, the ones with no windows and dimly lit hallways. Those are the ones I always walk through, just like now.

Victor, Reese, and Lee are talking with Sandy around a table, my pictures highlighted on an oversized screen.

Both team leads nod their heads as Sandy shakes my hand. “How’s Bobby?”

“Breathing,” I mutter and take the seat next to Lee.

“You don’t sound very happy about that.” Sandy, a male with the last name of Sanderson, sits across from us. He points to the pictures on the screen. “We’ve already identified a handful of women from your photo. When our collection team gets done at his apartment, we’ll have a gold mine of evidence.”

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