Page 87 of Montana Justice

“What’s the holdup?” The question came through the comms from someone I didn’t recognize. Had to be DEA.

Agent Kowalski had materialized at our staging area three hours ago with his merry band of federal agents in tow. Somehow he’d gotten wind of our operation—or had enough suspicions that something was going on to make his presence known. He’d threatened to shut everything down, call in federal oversight, make my life hell unless his team got a piece of the action.

I’d agreed because I needed bodies. We were stretched dangerously thin between the warehouse assault and the Whitehall extraction. But I hadn’t told him about Sadie. That wasn’t information he needed, and I didn’t trust him with my daughter’s life.

“We wait for my signal,” I said into the comms, keeping my voice level despite the acid burning in my gut.

Any other night, stopping this shipment would’ve been my only priority. Tonight, it was a distant second.

I checked my phone again. Nothing.

“This is taking too long,” another DEA voice muttered. “They could be destroying evidence. Protocol says?—”

“Protocol says the ranking local officer calls the breach,” I cut him off. “That’s me. We hold.”

Sweat trickled down my back despite the cool night air. Every instinct screamed at me to move, to do something, to be in twoplaces at once. But all I could do was wait and trust the men I’d sent to save my daughter.

Movement to my left made me turn. Kowalski approached in a tactical crouch, his movements precise despite his obvious frustration. He dropped beside me and deliberately switched off his comms.

“We need to talk off official channels,” he said, voice low but carrying an edge. “My team’s been in position for twenty-three minutes. We have a clear visual of criminal activity. Active trafficking in progress. What exactly are we waiting for?”

“Final confirmation before we move.”

“Confirmation of what?” He shifted closer, and I could smell coffee on his breath. “Intel verification? Because I can see weapons with my own eyes. Are you waiting for them to finish loading so we get a bigger bust? Because that’s risky as hell.”

I kept my eyes on the warehouse, watching shadows move. “Just following protocol.”

“Bullshit.” The word came out sharp. “I’ve run dozens of operations. This isn’t protocol—this is hesitation. If you’ve lost your nerve after last week’s failure?—”

“I haven’t lost anything.” The words came out harder than intended.

“Then give the damn order.” His hand moved toward his radio. “Look, Calloway, I respect what you’re trying to do here. Small-town sheriff, big federal case. I get it. But if you can’t make the call, step aside. No shame in admitting you’re in over your head.”

The condescension in his voice made my jaw clench. This federal prick had no idea what was at stake.

“I’ll make the call when it’s time,” I said.

“Time was ten minutes ago.” He pulled out his radio. “This is exactly why federal oversight exists. When locals freeze up?—”

“Put the radio down, Kowalski.”

How far was I willing to take this? Knock the other man unconscious? Pull my weapon on him?

Both.

All I knew was that we could not breach this building until we had word Sadie was safe. If we went in before that, one call from Ray could cost my daughter her life.

“Listen very carefully,” I said, keeping my voice low enough that our comms wouldn’t pick it up. “I’ve got operational command here. Me. Not you. Not your bosses. Me. We move when I say move, not one second before. You want to write me up after, fine.”

He reached for his radio, and I shook my head, menace in my eyes. “If you have anyone move before I give the signal, I will arrest you for interfering with a criminal investigation.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me. All my men will say you attempted to override local command during a joint operation.” I had no doubt every single one of my team would back me up on that. “Your bosses might eventually sort it out, but by then, you’ll have spent a night in my jail explaining why you blew a major trafficking bust.”

His face went from red to purple. “You have no idea who you’re fucking with.”

“Neither do you.” I picked up his radio, holding it out handle-first. Not surrendering—establishing dominance. “We can do this together, following proper command structure. Or I can have Deputy Martinez escort you to an observation point where you can watch but not interfere. Choose.”

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