Page 105 of Desperate Justice
So much for discretion.
Jase, Greg and Sam milled around Jase’s black SUV. Leaving his bike running, he walked over to join them. “Report.”
“Sheriff told us there’s only one warehouse in town that has been active. Town’s economy tanked a few years ago and many businesses dried up or left. This one is a new business. Belongs to an LLC registered under Dynamic Arts. Dummy corp. Got the address, flew drones over the suspected warehouse and saw the van that had picked up the bears. A truck left about an hour ago, heading east for the interstate. We have surveillance on it now.”
“Good. What are we waiting for?”
The trio exchanged grim glances.
“Permission,” Jase finally said. “Sheriff wants part of the takedown.”
Rafe snorted. “It’s our op. My op.”
Greg looked equally frustrated. “Your boss, Lincoln, and my director both agree they need the local cooperation for the raid. So we wait.”
“For how goddamn long?”
“He’s on his way. He wants to use infrared helos to see the amount of people inside the warehouse.” Greg shook his head. “We wasted time arguing this is a covert op. No knock warrant. He finally relented.”
“So we wait,” Jase said. “He said he should be here soon.”
By the time the sheriff arrived, everything could go to hell. Rafe chafed with impatience. Damn bureaucracy. The FBI always followed protocol, but this time, he knew it could cost them valuable time.
Sam checked his shotgun. “Wish we could leave now. Storm the place and get these scumbags once and for all. I hate jurisdictional chest beating.”
Sounded good to him. Impatient to nail Hernandez and put the bastard behind bars, he itched to get going.
Suddenly he heard Allison in his head. “What’s more important, Rafe? That Hernandez is finally arrested or that you do the arresting?”
Allison again. She was right. This wasn’t his case, his show, his moment of glory. For the first time in more than three years, he didn’t give a shit about Hernandez and the glory of taking him down. It was more important that the man was arrested.
Not who did the takedown. Rafe steeled his spine. “Lincoln’s right. You need to wait.”
“But Rafe,” Jase started to say.
Holding up a hand, he shook his head. “Follow protocol. It’s there for a reason. Without the sheriff’s cooperation, we’d still be hunting for a warehouse to search. He pinned down the location. We need our local police partners. This isn’t a contest to see who brings in the bad guys first.”
Sam shuffled his boots. “Rafe’s right. We need to chill. We can outfit you with tactical gear, mike and radio in the meantime, Rafe.”
It killed him to say it, but he said it. “I’m not going with you.”
Jase made a strangled sound. “Rafe, this is your takedown, your case. Hell, you’ve been running this task force since it started. You’re backing out now?”
“Shut it, Jase,” he told him.
The younger man went quiet.
“I’m suspended. I have no authority. I’m not going with you and risking the case. I’m following protocol.” He jabbed a thumb at his friend and subordinate. “Either you follow as well or stay here with me.”
Jase took a deep breath. “Deal. Have I told you lately how much I respect you?”
“Yeah, and I love you, too.” Rafe chuffed his head.
With his gold shield dangling from a chain around his neck, Greg was getting updates on his phone. He frowned. “Son of a bitch Hernandez is home.”
Rafe pulled out his phone. “Two of those bears they took have AirTags in them. Let’s make sure we know where they are before we chase our asses.”
Rafe used an app to find the network to use an anonymous relay through other cell phones like his. Fortunately, the app showed the AirTag was active and located in a warehouse in Randall, North Carolina, the same warehouse they suspected the bears were being transported to.
