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Chapter Thirty-Seven

Luke

The sun was only just starting to rise over DC, but Luke had already been awake for hours. Hell, he wasn't sure he’d even slept, not really. The bullet resistant vest hung heavier than usual, his sidearm strapped snug to his thigh and his badge clipped at his hip. This wasn't a suit-and-tie affair. This was a full tactical gear sort of mission. The FBI had been building up to this moment for weeks and now they had their shot. This was it. A full-scale sanctioned raid on the CIA headquarters was about to sweep through the agency like a controlled fire to burn out the corruption that had rotted its core.

Luke sat in the passenger seat of the armored SUV as it tumbled toward Langley with his fingers tight around the rifle in his lap. Tommy, still wearing an intrepid grin, sat behind the wheel, his eyes glittering with excitement. They were one vehicle amidst a veritable convoy of backup. Lots of backup. Dozens of agents, full tactical teams, and enough Bureau brass to make it a watertight operation. Sure, it was still risky as hell, but he felt the power in numbers behind them as they wove through the streets. There were warrants, names, and a shared mission, but it still felt like walking into a battlefield. Except in this battle, the enemy was wearing the same uniform.

“Hey, you good?” Tommy’s voice cut over the sound of the engine.

“Yeah.” It was a lie, automatic at this point. He rubbed a hand over his jaw, the fingerless glove rasping over the many days old stubble. “You?”

“I'll let you know when this is all over.” Tommy grinned before returning his attention to the road ahead.

Luke’s smile was there and gone in a flash. The closer they got to their target, the louder his pulse thrummed in his eardrums. Never had he ever imagined himself en route to the CIA, the heart of American intelligence, the one place that wasn't supposed to fail, with every intention of cutting it down to root out their enemies. Yet here they were, cruising through DC to do exactly that. It was, to borrow Taz’ words, a real mindfuck.

He had spent years serving his country. First in the Marines and then in the FBI. The oaths he had sworn his life to meant something to him, and these bastards had pissed all over them. They sold out their own people, betrayed the trust of an entire nation, and today, they were going to answer for it.

The convoy of SUVs screeched to a stop at the main entrance to the CIA headquarters. Agents poured out in waves as their perfectly coordinated operation was set into motion. The front doors weren't locked but they might as well have been. The moment the first agent stepped through the glass barrier, everything shifted.

Tommy and Luke moved in tandem, jinking left as the team of Bureau agents flooded and secured the lobby. The security officers behind the front desk were stunned into stupor, their hands hovering over their holsters in confusion. No one moved to stop them.

“Federal warrants,” the lead agent barked while wielding a thick stack of papers. “You will stand down and let us do our job.”

It was pure bedlam the second they crossed into the main offices. The employees were not happy. Some froze at their desks, some tried to make phone calls, while others outright ran. Luke wasn't about to let that happen.

“No one leaves this building!” His voice bellowed through the chaos like a gunshot. “If you have nothing to hide, you will cooperate. If you run, we assume guilt!”

A few people hesitated, but thankfully, no one else tried to bolt. Luke and Tommy shared a nod before heading deeper into the building. The first name on their list was Langley’s second-in-command: Director Frank Harold. They cut through the sea of desks and scattered papers to follow the sound of raised voices farther down the hall and found their target mid-shout, his face tomato red as he tried to berate two FBI agents that had cornered him in his office.

“This is an abuse of power!” Spittle flew from Harold’s lips as he snarled. “You have no right—”

“Correction: we have every right, you son of a bitch.” Luke’s stride never faltered as he approached, slapping a warrant against the man’s chest. “Frank Harold, you're under arrest for conspiracy, treason, obstruction of justice, and about half a dozen additional charges I don't have the patience to list. You have the right to remain silent—”

“You're making a mistake!”

“Save it for your lawyer,” Luke countered as he grabbed the man by the arm and hauled him toward the hallway while continuing to read him his Miranda Rights. He caught glimpses of other arrests already in progress as CIA officers were being led away in cuffs, the room a cacophony of criminals being Mirandized while others searched desks and confiscated hard drives. It was working, but not everyone was going away quietly.

A commotion erupted down the hall and Luke was quick to pass Harold into the custody of a Junior agent before he and Tommy took off. There was a shout, a struggle, a single gunshot. His blood ran cold as his instincts took over, the sound of their boots ricocheting off the walls as they sprinted toward the source of the blast. He rounded the corner just in time to see a fellow agent wrestling the weapon from the rogue CIA officer’s hand. Anger washed over him—the fucker had been ready to kill in order to escape. Without any hesitation, Luke surged forward and slammed the man against the wall, his forearm pressed hard against his throat.

“You sick fuck! You were ready to shoot a fellow American to cover your own ass?” Luke’s voice was a rough growl as he seethed with rage.

The man wheezed and struggled, but Luke didn't ease up until the weapon was neutralized and the man was in cuffs. He stepped back and watched Tommy drag the imbecile away, anger still burning white hot in his chest. They had made progress, but there would be more. It was going to be a long, long day.

By the time the raid was finished, Luke felt like he had aged a decade. Thirty-six arrests and counting. Hundreds of classified documents had been seized. Dozens of computers, too. Despite the success, the tension hadn't left Luke’s shoulders. It wouldn't. Not until he saw Taz. It was a need so potent, he could barely think straight. He barely registered the drive back to the FBI headquarters, which was a little frightening since he’d been the one in the driver’s seat. The moment they arrived, he dove out of the SUV without shutting it off and headed straight for the tech floor, ignoring everything in his path. Once he caught sight of Taz, his legs turned to jelly.

The younger man was buried deep in his work, his hair in chaotic disarray beneath the crooked headset as his hands flew over the keyboard in a blur. Knowing his Taz, he was single-minded in his pursuit of those who had gotten away, tracking pings and running numbers. He looked like hell. The most handsome hell Luke had ever seen. There were dark circles under his eyes and he hadn't shaved in days. He looked exactly how Luke felt. He didn't think. He just moved.

Taz barely had time to react before Luke was pulling him into a hug. It wasn't graceful nor was it timed right, but that didn't matter. Luke just needed to feel him, alive and breathing and here, in his arms, where he belonged.

Taz stiffened and squeaked, confused for half a second before he melted into Luke’s chest with a wavering exhale. “Jesus. You reek.”

“Shut up,” Luke huffed with a weary laugh, tightening his arms and basking in the feel of Taz nuzzling into his neck.

They didn't move for a long time, simply existing in the bubble of their embrace. Eventually, Taz pulled back, but his hands remained in constant contact as he searched Luke’s body until satisfied he was unharmed. Eventually, his whisper broke the silence.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. No. I'll get back to you on that.” Luke lifted his hand to cradle Taz’ jaw before pulling him into a kiss. Around them, the world kept moving, the cogs of the machine still turning, the first battle of a massive war winding down as they took a moment to breathe at its center. They were still standing. Luke called that a win. And damn, they had really needed a win.