Page 13 of The Rough Ride (Sanctuary, Inc. #3)

W hat? Family members. Right.

Liz realized she’d left the names on her desk, so she raced through the bullpen and across the hallway to her office.

She sifted through the small stack of papers and found the information the commander demanded while listening to the hostage negotiations on her headset as they took a turn for the worse.

She grabbed the paper and shot out her office door, plowing straight into Erin carrying a box of papers.

The box upended onto the floor, and Erin fell backward into a glass door.

Liz stuffed the list into her pocket and grabbed her head. “Oh Erin, I’m so sorry, are you alright?” She bent to help the poor girl off the floor. “I’m so sorry, let me help you.”

Erin put her hand up. “No, no, my fault. Red light’s on in the hallway. I should’ve stayed out of the way. Do what you have to do. I’ll get up in a minute on my own.”

“Who the fuck are you talking to, Nelson? ‘Cause it sure as shit isn’t me. I need that intel now,” the commander bellowed in her ear .

Liz nodded at Erin and dashed into the bullpen, pulling the door shut behind her. Every monitor was in motion. Different angles of the same scene. The takedown of a drug smuggler on a fishing vessel endeavoring to cruise into the Florida Keys unnoticed.

Good luck with that. The Keys had as many cyber-eyes as a major metropolitan area. They were just more discreet.

“I have the list, Commander.”

“How nice of you to join us, Nelson. Anytime you’re ready, read ‘em off,” he huffed.

Oh, how she hated working with this hostage negotiator. Blevins was a surly bastard. She bit back a retort because the perp on the monitor had a cabin full of undocumented immigrants and held three of them at gunpoint. Concern creased everyone’s forehead in the bullpen.

“Wife’s name is Maria. Children—Carlos, thirteen years, Bianca, ten years and Cecelia, six years. Copy that, Commander?”

“Got it. You’d better be right, Nelson.”

Liz closed her eyes and counted to three.

What an arrogant prick. Of course, she was right.

Her bullpen had worked feverishly for days to confirm the intel.

Six government agencies worked together on this bust. A huge conglomeration of locals and feds pulling in unison for a live catch.

And Blevins picked right now to threaten her while three innocent people had guns aimed at their heads?

She braced her hands on a desk and leaned forward.

Every monitor displayed a different angle of the gunman and hostages.

None of the snipers had a clear shot. A bullet traveling at high velocity would not only pierce the intended target but the innocent in front or behind him as well.

This was no time to play roulette with the law of unintended consequences.

She listened as Blevins recited the names of the perp’s family members and focused especially on the youngest, Cecelia. Was it really worth it to this guy to leave behind a wife and three children? Blevins tended to be successful as long as he didn’t deviate from the script.

Liz touched the mouthpiece on her headset. “Commander, we’d really like to capture this guy alive. He’s the only one we’ve apprehended who knows the entire food chain personally for this particular cartel.” Her headset crackled with his response.

“Yeah, well, I’d like the Easter bunny to start delivering candy at Christmas time, but we don’t always get what we want, now do we?”

She drew in a breath through her teeth. “You’re right, Blevins, but perhaps we could offer him a small concession to reel him in.

Like cheeseburgers and cigarettes in prison?

Twice yearly visas for his family to visit him?

Think. Something that would make his life more bearable going forward. He’s worth a lot to Uncle Sam alive.”

Blevins snorted. “You damn people don’t realize that scumbags like this need to be terminated.”

“We’re on the same team, Commander. Let’s work together.” What was with this guy? He was as insubordinate as she’d ever seen. She waited and listened.

After a brief pause, Blevins launched into a speech in Spanish. She eyed the cameras; watching the young woman in front of the perp break down sobbing.

Carmen hurried across the bullpen and translated.

“You need to let those people go. We’ll sweeten the deal and offer you cheeseburgers in prison.

Anything’s better than allowing the cartel to haul your sorry ass into the desert and kill you.

Your family probably won’t want anything to do with you if the cartel even lets them live.

Put the gun down, asshole, and let those people go. ”

And with that, the perp raised the gun and fired at his own head. That fast. Negotiation over. Blood spattered the hostages and deck of the boat.

Carmen gasped, Liz dropped into a chair, and the major rose to her feet. The bullpen rumbled with a steady murmur. That translation was so not the heart and essence of what she’d suggested, and anger surged through her like a bolt of potent heat. She stood, touching her headset.

“Commander Blevins, you’re relieved of your post. Please hand your headset to your second.”

“Now, wait just a minute, little miss. You don’t have the authority to dismiss me.”

“Blevins, I am not your little miss but the lead analyst here. You are relieved of your post. Return to your company for reassignment to more compatible duty. I’ll let your superiors decide what that might be, but I never want to hear your voice on a DHS headset again. Do I make myself clear, sir?”

“This will never stick, Nelson.”

“I disagree, sir. The entire negotiation was recorded by six different government entities. The message you delivered did nothing to encourage the perp to surrender without further incident. You effectively stripped him of any hope. I have the translation in front of me. Please hand your headset to your second.”

Major Chan’s voice piped in, “She’s right, Commander.

Do you need the MPs help to leave?” She placed a hand on Liz’s shoulder and whispered, “I’ve got it from here.

Go take a break. You’ve earned it.” Then, in a louder voice, she announced to the bullpen, “Twenty minute break, everyone. Go walk it off. Fresh coffee in the lunchroom.”

Still stunned, Liz strode with her coworkers down the hallway, offering words of encouragement, thanks, and a few pats on the back.

Fury fueled by adrenaline coursed her veins.

There’d been hundreds of qualified people on site to handle the situation correctly, and it only took Blevins to muck it up.

How could he have been so callous and narrow-minded?

Why would the perp do that to himself and his family?

There were people in this world who’d give anything for one more day on earth, shitty or not.

She headed for her office, stretched against the back of the door and tried to clear the image of the perp offing himself that reverberated in her brain by focusing on the picture of Ella on her desk.

She’d taken this job to protect all the sweet Ella’s in this world.

How dare he use his commission in opposition to the unit’s goals?

She moved into a deep breathing routine that never failed to energize her and contemplated.

Nick had done hostage negotiation in Iraq.

She’d never witnessed him in action, but the stories were famous around the barracks.

He’d once talked a group of enemy deserters into surrendering themselves and their Russian tank without a single bullet fired.

The fighters had gone six days without food and water.

Nick promised them an all-you-can-eat buffet in exchange for surrender and the keys to the tank.

They’d laid down their arms after a tense discussion.

Unharmed, they ate their meal in shackles.

Maybe she’d talk to Nick about her situation today in generic terms. She couldn’t discuss work outside of this building, but she could ask him to shed light on hostage negotiations and learn a few things she’d employ next time.

A longing sigh escaped her chest. Hearing his steady voice right now would be a healing balm.

But there were three hours left to the workday and her profiles wouldn’t follow up on themselves. She perused Marion Trent’s homepage. As usual, it was loaded with new posts.

There was an invitation to a VFW dance in Sterling, VA from an older gentleman, a few advertisements for strip clubs and swinger sites, and an invite from a local crochet club asking if she’d be interested in joining.

Liz moved on to the friend requests. Three of them came from scammers she either knew of or had handled in the past. Flag and forward to the appropriate agency. One was from an interesting young man in Brussels, and she made a note to check him out later.

The final request was from a man who’d served time for child pornography.

Liz highlighted and copied the information onto a report for her contact at the FBI.

They’ll shut you down again, sicko. Maybe this time, they’ll keep your perverted self in jail before you can harm the youngest members of the public again.

She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. Stopping that child porn guy made her crappy day worth it.

There were thirteen private messages. There was no time like the present, and she opened the list. Two messages were from the same overseas guy who’d offered Marion a job as a nanny for that large group of children.

Liz made a note to follow up with Major Chan on what the dark web guys had uncovered in their search .

She moved on, opening the next message while picking up her coffee for a sip.

Are you enjoying the flowers I sent?

It took Liz a few seconds to process the question.