Page 27 of Protected By West (San Antonio S.W.A.T. #1)

WEST

It took a lot of effort for Weston not to swagger into the Chief's office after his team passed their certification test. It had been a resounding success!

They'd used a decommissioned section of Lackland Air Force Base with buildings they were planning to demolish anyway.

The SWAT team from Austin had come in to set up a punishing set of tests and his team finished all of them with high marks, even when they'd had issues, their combined strengths had pulled them through.

It took a lot for this team to come together, but it had been worth it.

Weston stopped at the open door and knocked on the wood.

Chief Fagan was just taking off his jacket and setting it on the hook. "Take that shit eating grin off your face and come on in here."

Instead of going straight to his chair and sitting down, the chief walked past his desk and set his hand on Weston's shoulder. "You're allowed to puff up a little, son. You and the team did really well out there today."

Weston fought off the feeling that he wanted to strut around the office. "It was a pretty good showing."

The chief sighed and gestured to the chair closest to them. "Go ahead and have a seat before your head gets too big for you to hold it up."

Weston moved to the chair, but he didn't sit until Chief Fagan was settling into his own chair.

"I'm joining the team tonight for a little celebration."

"I was wondering," Chief Fagan smiled at him, "why you weren't heading out with your team right after the assessment."

Weston knew that the chief wasn't just passing the time with the question, but he wasn't going to waste time with the answer either.

"The team is taking the transport back to our headquarters and cleaning and restocking it. The weapons all have to be cleaned and reset in the armory and after action reports are assigned to the group."

Chief Fagan chuckled. "Aren't you afraid that they're going to be mad at you for leaving them the paperwork?"

Weston shook his head. "I have my share of the report to write. I was taking notes on the ride back anyway. Besides that, I have more combined hours writing reports than anyone on my team with the possible exception of Fox."

The chief tapped his fingers on the desktop, chuckling to himself. "Ah... paperwork."

"It's a pain, but a necessary one."

"These days," the chief agreed, "we have cameras on everything. Security cameras outside businesses. Even people with cell phone cameras, but they don't capture everything. We still have to write it down, too."

"And evaluate our choices." Weston sighed. "It's a necessary evil, but if and when we'll be called into court to testify. Those notes and reports that we write can be helpful in recalling what happened."

"I've had numerous conversations with prosecutors over the years and it's amazing how many jurors expect us to have... to have some kind of encyclopedic knowledge of past cases."

Weston snorted a laugh and sighed. "Too much TV. They watch shows like Law & Order-"

"The sixteen different versions of it."

They both laughed at that before Weston continued. "And they expect us to be like the officers on those shows. Completely composed with perfect recall."

"True. Sad, and true."

"It would be easy if we had nothing to do between the day of the case and the trial."

"Isn't that the truth." The chief looked across the room at a TV screen where a local news show was talking about a case that the Texas Rangers had been involved in. "And public perception can be nearly impossible to fight at times. All we can do is the best we can. After that..."

Weston nodded and looked down at his hands folded in his lap.

"I know we said we'd go over today's assessment, but I think our brains both need a break from that."

Weston smiled at that. "Probably a good thing."

"I've heard some things lately."

Weston lifted a questioning brow at that. It was one of those phrases where ninety-nine percent of the things after it could be bad.

"It seems like you've developed a case of life outside of the Rangers."

The chief's stoic look softened into a smile and Weston relaxed for a moment.

"It was bound to happen sometime, right?"

Chief Fagan sat back in his chair and raised a rather eloquent brow at him.

West knew that look well. It had been directed at him over and over through the years, but only recently had he started to be able to withstand the piercing eyes boring into his soul from beneath it.

Chief Fagan leaned forward, folding his arms on top of his desk. The shift drew Weston's eyes across the desk, and he saw the gold and black nameplate that read Chief Seamus Fagan on it.

Sometimes, he mused, it was possible to forget that your mentors have 'real' names outside of their rank and surname.

He'd seen senior officers go pale in the chief's gaze, but thankfully, West had never really incurred the man's ire.

It was something he never wanted to happen.

The Chief tapped his finger on the desk blotter. "I'm glad you're giving it time. I never found a balance between work and outside. And I'm feeling it now that I'm walking up on my retirement."

"Retirement?"

Weston tried not to laugh at the idea.

"What's so damn funny, Weston?"

Weston tried to fight off the instinctive smile that lifted the corner of his mustache.

"Are you trying to get demoted?"

Weston knew that his mentor was just kidding, but he still sounded fierce. "I always thought that you'd be in this chair until your last day."

Seamus sighed and leaned back in his chair, he folded his fingers together and looked up at the ceiling.

"That's what I'd always intended, but I went in for my annual physical last year and the doctor sat my ass down and gave me a talking to that I haven't had since my mama caught me taking a cookie out of the jar with grubby hands. "

Smiling, he sat upright and gave Weston a look across the desk. "As long as you've known me... I guess since I started with the Rangers, I've been staring at the road ahead. One rank to the next. Doing my job. Making Texas safer for everyone."

Weston nodded and leaned on the arm of his chair. "The wall behind your desk is full of awards. The shelves are full of awards as well. There isn't a law enforcement officer in Texas that can hold a candle to your record."

Seamus didn't move but the atmosphere in the room changed in a heartbeat.

The deep exhale of his mentor felt like a cold front came through the closed door of his office.

"I've got every award imaginable, but when I got up to accept them, I stood there alone.

In my office, I set a trophy on the shelf and sit down behind my desk, there's no one to stand beside me and feel any kind of pride in my accomplishments.

When I put them on my wall at home, there's no one there to share them with. "

Seamus reached out and picked up his coffee mug and looked down into it. With a long sigh, he got up.

West got to his feet and reached out. "Here, let me get you some coffee."

Dropping his chin, Seamus shook his head. "I'm not so old and infirm that I can't get a cup across the room."

Weston wanted to reassure his mentor, but he'd known him long enough that he wouldn't see it that way. Seamus had always been a rigid man. The kind of lawman that people looked to in any situation. Rock steady and immovable.

He didn't like reassurances in his personal matters.

The Chief stopped at the corner of his desk. Turned his head a fraction of an inch and his lips thinned into a line. "You coming to get yourself a cup or do you expect me to pour one for you?"

Weston got up from his chair and crossed the room to the coffee station. The guys on the SWAT team had gotten him a top-of-the-line machine since it felt like the Chief rarely left his office on most days.

They'd considered a fold-out sofa bed, but they had a feeling that Chief Fagan would have had them all drawn and quartered for it. It might be appropriate, but no one wanted to admit that they basically spent most of their waking hours in their office.

He watched as the chief opted for straight black coffee instead of any of the other options on the machine. Just like Fox had said he would.

When he stepped back, Weston picked up a mug from the table and poured himself a cup as well.

"You might not know this," the Chief took a sip from the mug that had to be scalding, but he barely reacted, "but I was married once."

Weston frowned a little.

He'd been curious about the chief's past. He'd wanted to ask him about Tracy a few times, but it never felt like the 'right' time.

"It fell apart more than a decade ago."

"I don't think I've ever heard anything about it."

Chief Fagan nodded. "It wasn't like I made a big announcement that my marriage had fallen apart.

" He looked back at his desk and then turned away.

"I had a wife and a daughter but looking back on it, I barely knew either of them.

There were times when I'd think that I could pick up my daughter from school, but when it came down to it, I'd get busy.

The day I finally managed to get my shit together and pick her up, she slid into the back of the car and didn't even recognize it was me.

"I tried to excuse it since I'd started getting some scruff on my face and she'd likely been used to me clean shaven, but it burned in my gut.

My daughter was sitting behind me, happily chatting away about her school day and the things that she'd learned and when I asked her if she recognized me, she looked up into the rear-view mirror with quite a bit of shock.

She told me that she'd gotten so used to officers picking her up she didn't even really look at the driver anymore.

If there was a uniformed officer in the driver's seat, she'd just get in. "

Weston felt Seamus' words in his gut. He'd been on that same path for years.

The rare times that he'd met someone that had interested him, their interest would fade after a few broken dates.

Life as a law enforcement officer meant being married to the job, especially when it was something like Special Operations.

It's not like he could blame the job.

No one had forced him to join.

He could have stopped at being a Ranger. That had always been his dream.

Wearing that storied badge was something he'd dreamed about, having grown up in a Ranger family.

There were two generations of his family ahead of him who had worn the five-pointed star on their shirts.

The cowboy hat was nice, but so many of the law enforcement officers used it while serving the people of Texas, it wasn't all that unique, but the Texas Ranger Star?

He'd always admired his father and his grandfather wearing their badges. Loved what it stood for. Lived his life to be worthy of the badge.

When he pinned it on before every shift, he still felt the same rush of pride that he'd felt the first time he'd seen a Ranger pin it on.

Living life as part of the Texas Rangers, he'd never really thought of what it was like for people who weren't used to the life. His mother had been the wife of a first responder from the get go. His grandmother, too.

He'd never really thought about what it was like for family members stepping into the life.

"You said you... broke up around a decade ago? I was already in law enforcement at the time. And I think I already knew who you were."

The Chief shrugged. A lot of people knew him on sight.

"About that time."

"I don't think I've... ever met your daughter." Weston was sure that his voice sounded... a little strained, but the Chief didn't seem to notice.

The moment he'd said the words the mood in the room soured again.

Weston wished that he could take it back.

Instead of being upset or angry, Seamus seemed to age in front of him.

Even his coloring seemed sallow instead of his usual suntanned complexion.

"I..." He swallowed and the sound seemed to echo off of the walls around them. "I haven't seen her since her mother and I... Since we signed the divorce papers."

Weston took a long sip of his coffee. The first touch of the dark liquid on his tongue burned, but it eased up as he drank more, using the excuse to put his thoughts in order.

“Have you thought about reaching out?”

The chief pulled back, his hand lowering an inch or two. “My ex hated me back then. Some divorces are amicable. Others are acrimonious. Ours?” He shook his head. “The last time I saw her she crossed the street to avoid me.”

Weston nodded and shifted his weight from one booted foot to the other. “What about your daughter? She’s a grown woman now. She might want to see you.”

The look on Chief Fagan’s face said what he thought about that. “Her mother would watch me burn holding a full bucket of water. I doubt my daughter is any different.”

Weston wasn’t sure how to say the thoughts in his head, but his phone pinged with an alert at the same time as the Chief’s did.

West took his phone out of his back pocket and looked down at the screen.

A SWAT call had come in and his choice of words didn’t seem to matter anymore.

There wasn’t time to worry about it.

West looked up at the Chief with a tight smile. “A smart man once told me that assumptions kill.”

He set down his cup of coffee and took off down the hallway to meet up with his team.

Their celebration dinner would have to wait, but he had a feeling that none of his team would argue about it. They were likely as eager as he was.