Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
He’s about to round the corner when I squeeze my trigger and shoot him right in the lower leg. It might not stop him, but it will slow him down.
He retaliates with shots of his own, and I take cover again.
“Agent Rodriguez,” the operator says. “Are you still there? What is happening?”
“I shot him,” I grit out.
“You … what?”
“Get someone here fast,” I yell.
I frantically look all around me, trying to find where the kid has gone, but it’s no use. I can’t see anything from where I am.
It’s moments like these that reiterate what my team is constantly telling me. You can’t save everyone. And as I glance at the lifeless body of a kid whose only crime was making poor decisions, I realize no one is going to care about his death.
He’s just another junkie to the public.
But he’s a fucking human being, and I wanted to save him.
Now I’m here fighting for my life.
Okay, Dylan. Think.
Before I get a chance to make a move, more footsteps sound. Only they’re fast and coming right toward me.
I raise my gun toward the sound, starting to doubt that I managed to shoot the kid at all. My hands tremble slightly from nerves. No matter how many dangerous situations I’m in, adrenaline always gives me the shakes.
My arms are steady, my aim is on point, and I’m one of the best on my team when it comes to gun range scores, but out here in the real world, the nerves get me every time.
The power of taking someone’s life has never appealed to me, but if it comes down to them or me, I will choose me every time.
I’m trying to make the world a better place. I’m doing my bit.
But there are always bad guys out there trying to stop me, and I never let them win.
Then, it’s like the world slows down as I watch someone appear around the trunk of the car. I already know it’s not the preppy kid.
Arms extended, they’re holding a revolver and wearing a light gray suit. “Rodriguez?” Special Agent in Charge Ken Walker says. He’s the big boss now, not just my superior officer. He was promoted a couple of years ago.
I sag in relief. “Thank fuck you’re here.”
“I was in the neighborhood when the call was dispatched.” He goes to where my phone is still connected to 9-1-1 and picks it up.
“Get down,” I say. “The perp went around the side of the building. He’s still armed, but he’s been shot in the leg. He’s young. Maybe college aged.”
“You go around the outside. I’ll check inside.”
I don’t question it. It’s not normal protocol to split up, but nothing about this operation is protocol.
“What are you doing here anyway?” Walker asks.
“Tip from a CI.” I get to my feet.
“Which CI?”
“Hale. He didn’t know many details, just that there was going to be a drop of some kind. Hale only told me the time and place. I expected a huge drug shipment.”
“Let’s go get this guy. Emergency responders should be here soon.”
“Should we wait for backup?”
“We don’t have time for that.”
On the contrary, I think we do. The kid has basically blocked himself in. There’s only one entrance in and out of this place. On either side of the warehouses is a large fence that I couldn’t jump, let alone someone who’s been shot. We should get SWAT and have police backup before we try to nail this guy. He’s made it clear he doesn’t give a shit that we’re law enforcement. He won’t hesitate to take either of us out.
But Walker is my boss, so I don’t question him.
“He went that way.” I point toward the front of the building. “I’m going to try the back. Hopefully he’s still expecting me to follow him.”
“I’ll take your lead on this,” Walker says.
“Really?”
“You know the situation better than I do. I trust you, Dylan.” Walker smiles.
“Did you have happy juice today or—”
“Don’t make me take it back.”
“No. No. Uh, thank you, sir. For trusting me with this. Cover me until I get into a safe position.”
“No problem.” Walker moves to the hood of the Camaro and leans over it with his gun drawn.
I crouch low and run toward the back of the building, ducking under the small, paneled windows.
When I get to the corner, I peek around but only see my car sitting there. There’s no other movement.
I glance back to Walker, but he’s gone. I lift my head. “What the fu—”
The glass pane window next to my ear shatters, and I cover my head with my arms.
When the sound of gunshots rings out, I figure Walker was right about the perp being inside. Yet, when they die down and I lift my head, it’s not the kid I see through the broken shards of glass.