8 His Operation Went Nuclear

He secured his vest and looked around their temporary situation room. He didn’t want to deal with the man standing across the room from him. Camden Pelter. His old Captain from his days on Atlanta PD who now worked with the Georgia State Police. The man hated him, and the feeling was mutual. His operation was going nuclear right in front of his eyes.

“Trenton.”

“Don’t fucking start. We’ve been trying to get the feds involved in the Thorpe case for years. They just keep turning their noses up.”

“I know that, don’t think I don’t, but we’ve got new evidence.”

“What upstanding straight, white fucker…”

“That isn’t how.” Camden scrubbed his hands over his face and his shaved head. “Listen, I’m not fucking arguing with you. You’re from Powers, your firm is located there. You’re in the best position to work with me on this.”

“You mean you want me to go undercover, unofficially at that, and put my fuzzy ass on the line so you can have plausible deniability when all this shit explodes.”

“Not true, I can’t send in one of mine. I sure as hell don’t know who I can trust. We need someone who can give us an in, and you’re in a unique position.”

“And what might that be?”

“Familiarity.”

“Motherfucker, have you met me and I know damn well you looked my family up. Thorpe would rather spit on me and mine than look at us. Lily attempted to castrate him in high school, and he’s held a grudge since.”

“We may have an ally for you.”

“And who is that?”

“Wren Gramble.”

He snarled at the name. That sexy fucker had the man he wanted. He sure as hell didn’t want to work with him.

“Not a fan.”

“You hate everyone, Trenton. He’s the newest deputy. He hates authority. And…”

“He’s gay.”

“Not what I was going to say, but, yes, something to make him more willing to be our eyes and ears.”

“I won’t bring someone in.”

It wasn’t just the fact of him not wanting to work with his competition. No, he also had experienced a fleeting surge of protectiveness at the thought of Wren’s ass being put on the line. He knew what would happen if Thorpe discovered a traitor in his ranks. It wouldn’t be the first time a deputy was the victim of an unsolved murder.

“Linus, we need this. Thorpe has always been unstable, but it’s gotten worse. Peaches making his life hell isn’t helping.”

“I have no control over Peaches. Thorpe is making our Crews…”

“I don’t have to be told. Scary nearly took my damn head off.”

He smirked at the thought of Scary taking Camden down. It was a badly kept secret that Scary Sheridan the owner of Brawlers was related to law enforcement. One thing that wasn’t done in Scary’s presence was mention it. They two men hated each other, well, Scary hated Pelter and didn’t trust the bastard as far as Scary could kick his ass.

“So, you’re spreading the word?”

“My cousin is an asshole and when he saw me in Powers, let’s just say it wasn’t a happy reunion.”

“Scary doesn’t like anyone other than his husbands.”

“True. So, you in, because if not I’m out of options.”

“I’m the bottom of the barrel?”

“I had to torch through the bottom to get to you.”

“Fuck, I’m feeling the love.”

Him and his Crew were loose cannons, law enforcement didn’t want to work with them, and that was fine with him and the guys. The less interaction they had with cops, the better they liked it. It didn’t help half his guys were lucky not to have sheets a mile long.

“My office tomorrow.”

“I’ll think about, now, get the fuck out.”

“Always good to see you, Trenton.”

He watched Camden until the man exited his trailer.

“I don’t trust him, boss.” Livingston better known as Liv came up beside him.

He turned his head to look up at the man, the harsh scarred angles of his face made worse by the dim lights. Liv was the man to have in your corner, but those who didn’t know Liv tended to run the other way when Liv showed up.

“I don’t either. What’s your take?”

He checked his Glock, slid it into his thigh holster, and grabbed several mags then slipped them into his vest.

“From my intel over the last year, Thorpe’s about to pull some major weight. I had Little check him out, the man’s pulling in six figures a year. The amount of drugs funneling through Power’s fucking astounding. Bill’s becoming a problem though. He’s showing his ass and drawing way too much attention.”

“He about to be taken out?”

“Thorpe’s a bastard, but I can tell you money’s everything, and Bill serves a purpose for the time being.”

“What did you find out about his sons?”

“Derrick seems to be a good kid. Keeps his nose clean. Little’s volunteer gig at the community center has him spending time with Derrick. As far as we can figure he doesn’t have a clue what his old man his doing.

“Craig’s only three. Thorpe’s wife doesn’t have much to do with them. Spends most of the time shopping. Another attention catcher.”

“So, what do you think I should do?”

“Boss, I think we should take his ass out and make it permanent.”

He nodded as his team gathered and they went over the takedown plan. Going on retrieval operations wasn’t his usual job, but they were short on men. Hunter was right, he needed to bring in at least one more body. He knew a bounty hunter from his PD days, and the man helped out on occasion but nothing on a permanent basis. It might be smart to give him a call. Raul was a vicious fucker with no damn mercy, and Raul took anyone down with extreme prejudice.

“We’re in and out, no heroics. Bastard is heavily armed, and his sheet tells us he ain’t afraid to pull, no matter if you’re wearing a badge or not. I want constant contact. Check-ins at every stage. I won’t visit one of y’all families tonight, is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” his team answered scatted to take positions.

“Liv, keep an eye on Gage, I didn’t want him along, but I had no choice.”

“I got him, no worries.”

He pushed out a heavy breath and got his head in the game. They’d planned their OP down to every contingency for the past week. He trusted his team to do their jobs. He picked up his 12 gauge, pumped it and followed his team. It was game time.

# # #

All hell broke loose, his ear piece went crazy, and he noted each voice as he went room to room. A woman screamed, a baby cried, and he ducked into the room. A girl, probably no more than eighteen, was huddled between the bed and the wall. Her face wet with tears. A small bundle held tight to her chest.

“Fuck, Liv, you copy?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Southwest window, double time it, over.”

“Copy, ETA five, over.”

“Honey, I need you to get up, you’re going out the window.”

He turned and put his back to her, he raised the butt of the shotgun to his shoulder. He listened to the window slide open. The creak of wood and a pop as paint gave way signaled Liv was in charge of the woman’s exit. The house was an old, one-story out in bumfuck, nowhere.

“Boss?”

“Get her out, head back to base. Team, do you copy?”

Murmurs of affirmative let him know everyone was on.

“Fall back, I got this.”

He heard dissension.

“Do as I say or find another fucking job?”

They were a team for a reason, no one else wanted them.

“Boss, you got ten before I come back. Fire me, I don’t give a fuck.”

He glanced back to see Liv disappearing with the girl and baby. He kept his steps slow and steady, he peeked around the door frame, first right and then left. He stepped into the hallway and kept his back tight to the wall, checking his blind spots as he went.

The door in front of him exploded, shards of wood flew in every direction. He hit the floor and rolled into the nearest room. He hissed as he pulled a large sliver from his forearm.

“Motherfucker, I ain’t got time for this shit, just give up.”

“I don’t give a fuck if you’re a cop or not, you come near me, you’re dead.”

He snorted, a cop he wasn’t.

“There’s no fucking way you’re getting out of here still breathing, make it easy on yourself and give up.”

Another blast tore through the wall next to him and fire erupted through this left shoulder. He gritted his teeth to keep from letting the bastard know he was hit. He heard a board creak behind him on the other side of the wall and lunged forward, rolled to his back as he aimed. As he pulled the trigger pain infused his chest. The several rounds pierced his vest. He compressed the trigger, and the man flew through the air.

He coughed, and he tasted blood, he collapsed back on the floor. His back arched as pain took over everything.

“Man down, call 9-1-1, now!”

“Someone call Hunter.”

“No, Wren, call Wren.” He coughed as he gagged on the thick metallic taste. “Not Hunter alone.”

“Fine, I’ll take care of it, boss, but Hunter is a gonna kill me.”

Shit time for humor on Liv’s part, the man wasn’t good at it. His last thought was of Hunter. The way Hunter looked when he kissed him. The regret in his beautiful eyes. He didn’t get a chance to say he was sorry.

“Where the fuck are the EMTs? We need them now!”

Liv’s voice faded, the pain ceased, and all went black.