Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 111416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
“Great fucking idea, Fletch,” Jamison agreed, “but we’d have to vote on it first.”
“There’s no better time since we’re all here now. Let’s get the vote done,” he suggested.
“Agreed. This way I can approach them with that proposal and my potential task force officer list at the same time. You know how the government likes to be efficient.”
Not one person in that common area didn’t laugh or snort at Crew’s last remark. Even Nox.
If the fastest way to get somewhere was to turn left, the government always turned right. It didn’t matter what level of government, either. Red tape and bullshit always bogged down their jobs.
Jamison stood up and announced, “Okay, let’s vote then. I’m all for it and the club could use the funds. All in favor?”
Fletch heard a bunch of “ayes.”
“Anyone against?”
Jamison’s question was met with silence. No surprise.
“There’s our answer,” he concluded. “This also might’ve solved another problem.”
What the fuck was Jamison talking about?
“We’ve been trying to come up with a name for our clubhouse,” the prez reminded them. “Now we won’t have to.”
They all shared confused looks at first until what he meant hit them.
A grin spread over Crew’s face and he nodded. “Well look at you, Sergeant Smarty-Pants, you’re right. We can call it The Plant.”
Fletch shrugged since he wasn’t so keen on that name. “I kind of liked my suggestion of The Hole.” A shortened version of what he called the place when they first bought it. The shit-hole.
“We get it, stud. You like holes. Lots of them. Tight, loose, front, back—”
Jamison cut Finn off. “The Plant makes more sense since we’re going to use it for the task force, anyway.”
“I don’t get it,” Monty muttered.
Decker said, “That’s because you work at the prison and miss out on this kind of fun shit. For your job, you’re locked in a concrete box with those prisoners. You don’t have the freedom we do. For the most part, anyway.”
“Don’t be an ass.” She glanced over at Crew. “Explain.”
“For a task force like this we need a base away from our stations or field offices to meet and conduct our criminal investigations. We call that off-site location The Plant. I have no idea how that started but it stuck. Usually we rent office space, but I’ll talk to the higher-ups involved with this task force and see if we can do it upstairs. This building’s more secure than any office space and I’m sure the rent will be cheaper to sweeten the deal.” Crew cocked an eyebrow at Jamison.
He nodded. “Yeah. I think it’s reasonable to make it financially beneficial for them, too. Like Fletch said, it’ll be a win-win situation for both the task force and for the BAMC.”
“I doubt anyone will say no to that,” Crew concluded. “I’ll make sure to lean on them heavily about accepting that idea. That’s all I got.”
“Thank fuck! Can we finally relax, play some cards and down a few beers?” Rez asked. “I hate talking about work when we’re off the damn clock.”
Rez had a good point.
“Deal me in, Heat Miser,” Fletch instructed Finn. “Time to kick your ass once again. Hope you brought a thick wallet.”
“You might beat me at cards, asshole, but I’m better at pool.”
“Because you’re better at playing with balls.”
“You have me confused with Cross. Now he’s a professional ball player.” Finn chuckled.
Fletch ducked because he knew what was coming.
These assholes were nothing if not predictable. And he did not want to be in the path of any flying objects.
Chapter Three
Nova shoved her sunglasses to the top of her head and rushed up the two flights of stairs for a building that appeared abandoned years ago. Located on the outskirts of Rockvale, it sat in a desolate section of an industrial zone.
She’d been part of federal task forces before. None of them had set up their plant in a building like this. She hoped to hell it had utilities, like running water, and the same normal comforts of places they normally rented.
By the time she hoofed it up to the third floor landing, she decided she was going to have a word with whoever chose this spot.
As long as she didn’t get shit for being late.
Because she was late.
She had texted Crew to let him know what happened, but she hadn’t received a text back.
Typical man.
She was sure she’d get it three hours after the fact and when she did, she’d get only a, “K,” in response.
She gritted her teeth.
Of course, she had to pick a male-dominated career. What the fuck was she thinking?
She pulled in a breath and hesitated outside the windowless steel door in an attempt to slow her racing heart.
Here she was once again, the only damn female on her latest assignment.
She should’ve said no when she was approached about joining this task force.