CHALK OUTLINES – REN & CHINCHILLA
Not a single trafficlaw can stop me from laying a lead foot on the accelerator, blasting us past countless pedestrians and red lights. Blaring horns don’t penetrate my terror. Nor does the madness we’re causing across Central London.
Screw them all.
My knuckles are stark-white on the steering wheel, making my ink stand out even more than it usually does. I’m surprised that I have the focus to drive at all. Warner certainly doesn’t as he actively works on tearing his fucking hair out.
“Who’s securing the crime scene?” he bellows into his phone.
Muffled voices respond, causing him to curse.
“Sabre Security is taking jurisdiction. We’ll have the Falcon Team on-site in eight minutes.”
More audible protests follow.
“Tell the superintendent to fuck himself for all I care. This was an attack on our people! Seal off the scene, or I’ll have you fired.”
When he hangs up, Warner smashes his clenched fist down on the dashboard and lets out an eye-watering string of expletives. Somehow, his phone doesn’t break as he slams the offending article into the centre console.
“Those idiots couldn’t investigate an RTC if their lives depended on it. Let alone an outright hit on two members of our goddamn team!”
“Hospital is four minutes out,” I mutter back.
“Shit.” He looks over his shoulder into the backseat. “Madden, call the directors. Get the Falcon Team sent to Mile End immediately. I’m not having some junkyard police recruits messing this up.”
“Me?” Blaine squarks.
“Yes, you! I can’t think straight right now.”
“I don’t exactly have their contact numbers,” he replies.
“Then use my damn phone! Fuck!”
Warner tosses it over his shoulder, barely able to retrieve the discarded device without losing his shit. If I wasn’t responsible for getting us all to the emergency department, I’d be shaking like a leaf too.
“Broad daylight.” I spit the words in disbelief. “Gael attacked them in broad fucking daylight! And in public, no less. He’s unhinged.”
“He’s desperate and out of cards to play.” Warner strains against his seatbelt, jittering from head to toe. “The medic said they were both found alive. Ember’s conscious too.”
“Thank fuck.” Blaine releases a loud exhale.
“They got lucky. Sounds like the crime scene is a disaster.”
Alive can mean all number of things. The information we received wasn’t exactly reassuring, coming from some hospital worker who called Warner as their emergency contact. But at least Ember was coherent enough to confirm her identity.
All our phones are Sabre-issued and equipped with tracking software, but we had no reason to be following Hyland and Ember this morning. While trawling through classified MI-5 files covering known European criminal rings in HQ, their location was far from our minds.
Last I heard, Ember and Hyland were getting some air after being cooped up in the penthouse for several days. Now we’re violating every traffic regulation known to man to find out exactly how hurt our teammates are and whose head is going to roll for it.
“There are bodies at the crash site.” Warner leans forward, elbows on his knees as he digs his palms into his eyes.
“Says who?” I flinch.
“The DCI in charge of the crime scene. Two, apparently.”
“Motherfucker. What has Gael done?”
“There’s still a bounty on Ember’s head. We never should’ve allowed her out in public. Even with backup and protection.”
