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Dex couldn’t believe it. They’d almost had one. How the hell could Ash let the guy get away? What a fucking disaster.
“What happened?” Sloane asked looking from Dex to Ash and back, the rest
of the team catching up, including Cael and Hobbs who were both panting and huffing. Guess his brother and teammate hadn’t had much luck either.
“Ash pulled a Wes Welker and dropped the ball,” Dex spat out.
“Fuck you, Daley. Welker wouldn’t have dropped the ball if Brady hadn’t fucked up the throw.”
Unbelievable. “Oh, so now I’m the one who fucked up? And since when are you a Patriots fan?”
“I’m not. Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna call out a shitty play, and Brady pulled a shitty play. So did you. Why the fuck are you bringing up a two-year-old game anyway?”
Dex had no idea. What he did know was that he was mighty pissed off at Ash and wanted so bad to plant one in his face. “I shot the guy!”
“Once! The guy was as big as Hobbs. One tranq dart is gonna sting and piss him the fuck off, but it ain’t gonna take him down, genius. You should have gotten off at least three shots!”
“For fuck’s sake, give it a rest, both of you.” Sloane paused long enough to answer his earpiece. “Brodie here. Copy that, Sarge.”
“What?”
“Everyone into the truck. We’ve got a dead body.”
“Someone’s going to have to carry the damsel. He’s got an ouchie,” Ash sneered walking off before Dex could tell him to go to hell. Sloane slipped an arm around Dex’s waist and helped him hop toward the gated exit.
“How’s your leg?”
“It’s fine. Just needs a massage,” Dex grumbled. He was aware of Sloane taking most of his weight so Dex didn’t have to. Beside him, Cael bumped his head against Dex’s hand before giving it a lick. “I’m fine. What happened to the Therians you were chasing?” Dex received a series of chirps, as if he was supposed to understand. Then again, he had asked. “Sorry. Did you lose them? One chirp for yes, two for no.” One chirp. Fucking great. “Did you get close?” Again he received one chirp. Well, at least that was something. “Did they have a backup plan?” One chirp. Bastards.
Sloane helped Dex into the BearCat with Cael and Hobbs hopping in after them. Cael settled in beside Dex, purring and snuggling his head against his dead leg as they drove roughly two blocks over to Broome Street, stopping outside a deli. Sloane told Dex to sit this one out, but Dex refused. He wasn’t about to give Ash the satisfaction. He told Sloane he was fine, gritted his teeth and limped over to where Hudson and Nina were inspecting the body. Cael didn’t leave his side.
“What have we got?” Sloane asked, crouching down for a closer look. Dex decided he’d stand and keep watch. If he got down, he might not be able to get back up with any kind of dignity, and Ash was two feet away giving him a knowing sneer. At least until his gaze landed on Cael. With a frown, Ash turned away and Dex noticed Cael’s tail give a restless twitch. He let out a soft mewl and Dex rubbed his ear like he used to do when they were kids whenever Cael needed comforting.
“Human male, Caucasian, midforties. Victim’s name is Alberto Cristo,” Hudson replied. “According to witnesses, our vic was exiting the deli when two Human males cut through that building there.” Hudson pointed to the twenty-four-story apartment building across the street. “They were being followed by the Coalition. The Humans pulled out their weapons and fired on the masked Therians. Everyone ran and ducked for cover, and this Human ended up with one in the head. So far no one witnessed our victim get struck.”
“Anyone else injured?” Sloane asked.
“No.”
“We believe he may have been hit by a ricochet,” Nina offered and pointed to two bullet holes in the deli’s doorframe.
“Okay. Thanks, Nina. Let me know if you find anything else.” Sloane tapped his earpiece. “Sarge, can we get background info on our victim?”
“Copy that.”
They left Recon and the medical examiners to do their thing and climbed back into the BearCat. The ride back was silent with the majority of the team doing its best to avoid eye contact. They’d fucked up, and now they had their first casualty.
Dex was still fuming when they reached HQ. His leg was sore as hell, and his arm stung where that asshole had cut him. Luckily his uniform had taken the worst of it. There had been very little blood and the cut didn’t need more than a small bandage. Too bad his shower hadn’t managed to wash away his pissy mood. He slammed his locker shut and dropped down onto the bench, his bare feet protesting the cold tiles. “We were so fucking close.” Sloane took a seat on the bench beside him, and Dex leaned slightly toward him so he could feel Sloane’s warmth. The locker room was mostly empty at this time of night with a couple of agents a few rows back talking quietly before they headed off.
“What’s going on, Dex? I haven’t seen you this pissed off in a while.”
“Come on, Sloane. You know I’m right.”
“Okay, and then what? What are you saying?”
What was he saying? He wasn’t saying anything except the same damn thing, and that wasn’t going to change the outcome. “I don’t know. I’m sorry. This whole Coalition thing’s got me frustrated. We’ve been after these assholes for two months and haven’t caught one break. Now some poor bastard is dead.” He lowered his voice for the next part, not willing to chance anyone overhearing him. “Someone out there—one of our own—is a traitor. We finally got close and fucked it all up. If I’d only gotten off more shots—”
“Okay, stop. No what-ifs. You did your best. I don’t know what happened on Ash’s end, and you know what he’s like when he fucks something up. He’d never admit it. He’s probably feeling as shitty as you are.”
