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Doug thrummed his fingers on the wheel of his truck and tried to concentrate on the road. It was fucking 3AM. He’d been called out again, this time on SWAT business. After he’d gotten both Pixie and himself back to Talia’s house, they’d chatted for a while, patted May and turned out the lights. He’d eventually taken himself off to the guest room where he’d managed to find sleep.
Then his phone had alerted him to get his ass out of bed.
Mason. Texting. Another job for their response team.
Pixie must have heard the phone’s alarm, because by the time he was dressed and headed to the kitchen, she was up, had madehim a cup of coffee, and was sending him out the door with a pragmatic, “stay safe”.
And didn’t he fucking like that? Which screwed with his head even more. It all seemed so…domestic; her actions letting him see how proud she was of him, that, mixed with a hint of concern. It shouldn’t have surprised him, because Pixie had iterated earlier that she now considered him one of the people she was going to care about. But how it warmed the normally cold cavity of his chest, confused the shit out of him.
Shaking his head and looking at his GPS, he saw he was closing in on the location he’d been given, just west of Bangor in a small town on Route 9. The call-out seemed straightforward. A man-shooting-up a bar before leading the local police on a high-speed chase, then barricading himself in his home where he continued to take wild pot-shots.
Nothing the local PD couldn’t handle, but SWAT had been called in because the perp kept saying how he had a huge stash of explosives in the house, and he was going to “blow up the fucking town”.
Doug was just pulling up to the correct address when his phone rang, showing Talia’s number.
“Yeah, LT?” Doug said, easily maneuvering down a long, dirt driveway which led into the woods.
“I got the alert,” she told him, and he could hear that she was rushing around. “It woke me and Fleet, and even though I’m not on the schedule, we couldn’t go back to sleep. So I thought I’d let you know we’re headed home; hopping a flight in…” She must have looked at her watch. “…thirty-two minutes. I’ll join you on site if things haven’t wrapped up by the time I get to town.”
“I’ll let Mason know,” Doug told her. “And if you want to give Pixie a warning of your arrival, she was awake twenty minutes ago, so she’s probably still up.”
“Thanks. I will. And Doug? In the meantime, I’m putting you in charge of E Squad.”
Doug almost swallowed his tongue. “Wh…what?”
“You heard me, Lumous. Until I arrive, you’re the acting LT. Just don’t make me regret it by doing something stupid.”
Doug’s chest swelled with an emotion he didn’t recognize, and for a moment he thought there might be a wetness in his eyes, but…
He shook it off.
“I won’t, boss. I promise. Everything by the book.”
“I have faith in you,” Talia responded in her softer voice. Then in a blink she turned all business-like again. “My ETA is an hour and fifty-two minutes. I’ll see you then.”
She hung up before Doug could say anything more, but the air around him suddenly seemed lighter; easier to breathe. Talia believed in him, and… He felt like life was shifting all of a sudden, and he didn’t quite understand how it was happening. Not exactly the absolute epiphany he’d been craving, but…something. Will had told him, over and over, that things would start to click for him someday if he kept up the hard work he was putting in, but Doug hadn’t believed him.
Maybe there was something to it, after all.
Pulling up a hundred yards from the house in question, Doug parked among cars he recognized. He wasn’t the first on scene, but he wasn’t the last, either. He got out of his truck, went around to the back, then opened up his utility box. Quickly he lifted out and donned his vest, helmet, and shoulder-clip mic. He grabbed his AR-15; his Glock 23 already rode on his hip. He was soon geared up and ready to go.
He jogged up to the small group who were currently taking cover behind the SWAT team’s heavily outfitted bus. “Sit rep?” he asked, as he approached.
Mason gave him a chin lift. “Fifty-seven-year-old male. A well-known local. He took exception to the bartender cutting him off a few hours ago, got a hair across his ass, then came back and shot up the place. Luckily, it was after closing, so there weren’t any patrons inside, just staff. They were all able to take cover as the guy shot out the windows. He must have eventually figured they’d be calling the cops, so he high-tailed it back home with a few cruisers on his ass. The officers on site figured they could handle it, but once the guy started yelling about explosives, they called us in.”
The rest of the team had arrived while Mason was giving him the run-down, and were now all gathered around the Chief.
Mason sent his gaze around the group before it landed on Doug. “I got a text from Talia. She says you’re in charge of E until she gets here.”
“That’s what she told me.” Doug swallowed down his trepidation, then thought to give Mason an out if he wanted one. “If you’re not okay with that, I’ll pass the duty on to whoever you feel should have the lead.”
“Nope. I wouldn’t think of usurping Talia’s orders.”
Mason thrust the bullhorn he was holding into Doug’s hands. “As a matter of fact, I’m interested in seeing the caliber of your negotiating skills.”
Once again, Doug was blindsided, being given even more authority. But now was not the time to let all the trust issues he harbored, fuck with his head. He needed his wits about him to step up to the challenge he’d been handed.
“I’ll do my best, Chief.”
