“Howard and Campbell are in scruffy plainclothes to blend into the neighborhood, strolling the sidewalks in the area. Say hi, Sean.”
“Good afternoon, boss,” scratched through their earpieces.
“Hey, why didn’t I get to say hi?” griped Cedric’s voice, followed by an “oof,” which must have been Campbell elbowing him in the ribs.
“Keep sharp, you knuckleheads. We aren’t sure which suspect we’re looking for, but probably Rusk, Neel, or De León. Regardless, if anybody runs out of that building, grab them. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Campbell replied.
Returning her attention to her van companions, Athena said, “Paulson and Shoops will monitor from here. Keep eyes and ears on us and alert me to anything unusual. Hernandez, Ice—vests, guns, and body cams. Flash will conduct an exterior sweep, looking for incendiary devices or triggers. When she gives the all-clear, we’ll breach and spread out, search for evidence or signs our unsub was here.”
“Bouvier?” Disappointment dragged down Shoops’ countenance, her shoulders slumping along with it. “You’re leaving me behind?”
Athena grabbed her arm, pinning her with an earnest stare. She couldn’t shake the fear she’d experienced at the old Grove Hospital fire, almost losing her whole team—almost losing the eager junior agent. “You’re our last line of defense. Paulson has the brains, but you have legs. I need someone who can move fast to help him coordinate the operation from here. It’s not an insult or overprotectiveness—it’s necessary.”
Shoop’s chin firmed, and she nodded. “Got it. I’ll be ready to move fast if Agent Paulson or you tell me to.” Athena removed her hand, satisfied.
“Infrared?” she asked.
Paulson toggled through screens. “No heat. No voices. Just a mockingbird.”
Turning her attention to Flash, Athena instructed, “Gear up.”
There was no way for them to exit the van without looking conspicuous in black tacticals labeled FBI. A minute later, Flash emerged in reflective khaki, axe in one hand, extinguisher in the other. As Flash combed the shop’s exterior, hacking through overgrown shrubs and vines, Athena’s admiration swelled. Tall, lean, powerful, courageous, and still tender-hearted and sweet. A partner she could depend on. A woman she could love.
With Ice and Hernandez as brawny bookends, they slowly made their way across the weed-breached concrete drive toward the padlocked, boarded-over door. One garage door appeared tight while the other hung in precarious aluminum strips, as if the next gust of wind would blow them into a heap. Sooty streaks climbed toward a hole in the roof. The stench of rubber was gone. The memory of fire clung.
“There’s nothing suspicious outside,” Flash reported as she rounded the building, her axe slung over her shoulder like a lanky lumberjack. God, she was beautiful!
“But I think I know where he got in and out,” she added.
“Where?” Athena knew he could have smashed the broken roll-up, but it faced the road. Someone might’ve seen.
“There’s a windowaround back. The glass is all broken out, the edges scraped, and it looks fresh compared to the other damage. I’m going first.”
Athena stiffened, jutting up her chin. “You’re a civilian.”
“I’m a firefighter. And, if there’s a trap, I’d know where to put it.”
“Which is why I should go first,” Ice declared. “Ex-Marine beats firefighter.”
Flash cocked her head at Ice, locked in a battle of wills. “There’s nobody in there to shoot at us. If there was, I’d gladly step aside and let you handle it. But there might be a firetrap. My suit beats your Kevlar.”
“Enough,” Athena interrupted, cutting them off. She let out a deep breath. Flash was far too stubborn, but, this time, she might be right. “Show us the window, Flash.”
They followed the firefighter around the building to a chest-high window three-by-three feet wide. Sure enough, glass shards littered the ground, and a crate had been positioned directly under the window.
“I climbed up and peeked inside,” Flash reported. “The box is stable, and most of the glass—the big pieces—fell to the inside. If fire caused it, the glass would’ve blown outward. Someone might have broken in to do drugs or strip copper pipes, but it also could have been your guy. That’s for you to figure out. My part is getting in there to check for hazardous materials.”
Athena met her gaze. “OK. Flash first, then Travis. Samuel, bring up the rear. Watch our backs.”
Anxiety knotted in Athena’s gut as she watched Flash crawl through the window into the dark, dank auto shop. Heavy equipment, ready to fall any second. Rats. Snakes. Spiders. Grease-slicked floors. Hornets. Toxic chemicals.
“Alright, Agent Ice,” Flash called. “There’s nothing in the immediate area, but fresh footprints all over the old ash and dust say someone was in here recently. You’ll want photos.”
Flash, if you hadn’t been a firefighter, you’d have made an excellent detective—always thinking ahead.
Athena nodded to Ice. “Take the pictures, then head on in. We’ll be right behind you.”
