Page 70 of Resolution

Mac nodded. “Might be. That’d be bad.”

“Could be a fucking doghouse,” Lincoln said, sounding irritated. Raven looked up and I could see Lincoln eyeballing him in the rearview mirror. “Armory or no armory, there’s no use worrying about what we can’t change.”

“Lincoln’s right,” Mac conceded. “Just trust me…this is the best team of guys I’ve ever worked with. Every last one of them is a pro and they’ve seen it all. I would have been proud to serve with them overseas.”

“Well, coming from a Green Beret, that’s high praise, Mac,” I said, reaching for Raven’s hand as we sat back.

We formed a convoy as we drove through town. Judging by how low the cars in front and behind us were riding, I guessed our vehicles were armored. I noted the thickness of the windows and figured they were bulletproof as well. Lincoln and the FBI team weren’t taking any chances with this group. The only thing to stop us from getting to where we were going, would be an IED or an RPG.

I guessed we were driving right through the middle of town for just that reason. No one could sneak out into the middle of the road to plant an IED, not with late night tourists all over the fucking place. I doubted even the cartel would be willing to fire upon us with an RPG, not as fast as we were traveling, and definitely not at all eight cars at once.

In the end, we made it to the warehouse without incident and the minute we drove through the large, double doors to park inside, they were shut behind us by other FBI agents who’d been waiting for us. I breathed a sigh of relief as we piled out of the cars to stretch our legs. I looked around the place, noting the huge bay doors we’d driven through. On the opposite end of the building was a matching set of double doors. The cavernous space was big enough to be an airplane hangar but that didn’t make sense since we were five miles from the airport. Numerous wooden crates were stacked against the walls and there were two stationery forklifts parked on one side. A small office was the only private space in the building.

The big man Raven had called a Viking came jogging over. He stopped at the huddle we’d made with Lincoln, Mac, Sarah, Damon, Cassidy, and Mike. Mac looked at us and then nodded to the large red-haired man.

“Miguel Huerta and Raven Mathis, I’d like you to meet Candy Sorensen. Candy heads up our tac team in Houston.”

Candy stuck out his hand, and I shook it. “Your background is Force Recon, right, Huerta?”

“That’s right.”

“Good to have you with us. We have two other Recon Marines on the team.”

“Look forward to meeting them,” I said.

“Nice to meet you, Raven,” Sorensen said, shaking his hand.

“And you, Candy.”

Raven had called the man handsome in a rugged sort of a way. I hadn’t given it much thought, but then again, I’d spent half my life climbing mountains with a seventy-pound pack on my back with guys like Sorensen. I much preferred the gentle doe-eyed sort of man like my Raven to the big, burly guy standing before us. Skill was all that was required here…skill and respect.That, Sorensen had in spades. I’d seen the way his men respected him which meant he’d proven himself to them in the field. That kind of respect had to be earned, and he obviously had it.

I heard boots on the floor and turned to see SAC Bannister heading our way. She stopped before Lincoln, holding out her hand. “Look, Snow…I probably owe you an apology for the way I spoke to you back in L.A.”

Lincoln shook her hand. “No need, Bannister. We’re all in this together and I assure you we have no intention of leaving Special Agent Willis in that compound to rot. When we go in to get the hostages, he’ll be coming out along with the others.” He hesitated for a few beats before going on. “How good is he at—”

“His job?” she interrupted.

He held up a placating hand. “No, Bannister. I was going to say, how good is he under pressure?”

A chagrined expression crossed her features. “Sorry.” She actually sounded more upset than angry. “I can assure you that Trevor can hold his own. He’s been working undercover ever since coming to work for the DEA. When you’re walking into the literal lion’s den of drug dealers to make a case, hoping that some coked up motherfucker isn’t going to go crazy and shoot you in the face just for shits and giggles, trust me, that takes balls of steel. Yes, in answer to your question, he’s good under pressure and he’s no doubt doing his job as we speak. He’s done it many times.”

“That kind of commitment can also wear a man out,” Sorensen said. “If he’s been under for a long time…well, ma’am…that wears on a man.”

“Sorensen’s right,” Sarah interjected. “Twenty years ago, we had an ATF agent undercover with the Hells Angels. He was trying to make a huge illegal weapons case, but the challenges were almost debilitating. He was constantly being forced to party with them—which included drug use—so the ATF was forced to approve that conduct just to keep him safe. Trying to intervene in murder plots by vicious bikers at war with the Mongols, without coming under suspicion himself was a monumental feat.”

Sorensen nodded, looking deadly serious.

“He found himself constantly having to fend off the advances of women in the club because he had a wife and two children of his own at home. The ATF finally put a female agent under with him to act as his girlfriend. She had to go through training to be a proper ‘old lady,’ taught to wait on her fellow agent like a slave, walk two steps behind him at all times, all to keep herself safe. After two years, he was patched into the club, waiting on the final nationwide chapters to approve his inclusion, but by then, using drugs, partying, and doing whatever else he had to do just to survive with the criminal gang had taken its toll on him.” She blew out a tired breath.

“His wife and kids were estranged, he was spending no time at the office, his reports were getting fewer and farther between, and he was constantly having to fight to protect not only his life but that of his fake girlfriend. At that point, the ATF had come to the conclusion that they were losing him. When confronted with what was happening, he readily admitted he was becoming one of them.”

“What happened?” Raven asked.

“They had to close the case to keep the agents alive. They moved in and arrested everyone they could but only ended up with a handful of indictments for low-level players in the MC, nowhere near bringing in the case they’d hoped to. The agent was forced to go into hiding with his family, moving every two weeks. It destroyed his life,” Sarah said. “Are you sure Special Agent Willis is still—”

“Yes!” Bannister said, more forcefully than she probably should have. Defensiveness was bleeding out of every pore. “Sorry.” She took a deep breath, scrubbing her hand through her hair. “If you’re asking if he’s still okay, then yes, I’m sure he is.” She let out a breath. “I’ve talked to him about this very thing. I’d been worried about him for a while, especially with his background prior to joining the department, but honestly, I know hecanandisdoing his job. He admitted that the pressure is intense, and that he will most likely want out when this assignment is all said and done.”

She looked around at all of us. “The last time I spoke to him…well…he promised that he’s in it until the case is done. He said he hasn’t had to go through all of this just to come up short.” She looked directly at me and Raven. “And I can promise you that he will do anything to save innocents like Tawny Flores and Brian Leopard. I have faith in him. You need to also.”

---