The man shared.
“They are locked down in the morgue, with the door sealed. The only one inside with them is Chrissy. I told them even if the building caught fire, not to leave the morgue.”
Well, it was a safe place to be.
“On top of that. Ian has locked the place down like it’s the White House. He’s not playing.”
Yeah, Ian wouldn’t.
Since they were safe, the team could get moving.
Ivan pointed.
“Let’s transport,” he said.
Lovingly, Demeter and Gryphen picked up the ends of the body bag, carrying Jet off of the plane. Ivan and Uriel each retrieved a clear box to follow them. As Raphael and Saint headed off, the men waited with Elizabeth.
“Are you going to lose it?” Callen asked. “Be honest.”
She started laughing.
And laughing.
And laughing.
“Lose it, Callen James? I’ve already lost it. When I’m done with this piece of shit, he’s going to wish his momma swallowed or his father wore a condom,” Elizabeth stated, following her Marines off the jet.
The two brothers just looked at each other.
This was bad.
VERY.
VERY.
BAD.
For Devon Slater.
And Elizabeth’s mental well-being.
* * * The Blackhawks * * *
One Hour Later
Monday
Evening
They headed to the back of FBI West and unloaded there. Mainly, they sent Elizabeth up in the body elevator with Jet and the plexi-boxes of remains.
When the door was opened to the elevator room, Chris was waiting for her.
“Sweetness,” he stated, opening his arms.
Without an iota of hesitation, Elizabeth went into them and let him hold her.
“I missed you,” Chris stated.
