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He nodded.
“You’re welcome. I’m sure we’ll be in touch.”
Elizabeth wasn’t done.
“Can you get your ME to bag up the bodies? We’re heading there now. There should be an FBI transport to the airport.”
He picked up the phone.
“We’ll head there now. Captain,” she said, heading toward the door. “Thomas, lead the way,” she suggested as she let him walk through the bullpen in front of her.
Every single cop stared at him, so she dropped her arm over his shoulder and spoke loudly.
“You did good, Thomas. Thank you for working with the FBI to get us vital intel on Z and the Hunters.”
And then, she was out in the hallway and could stop that shitshow production.
Well, he wanted to be back.
Word would spread by dinner time. The whole precinct would know the truth or what they wanted them to think was the truth.
This would make Axelle’s job easier.
As they headed down the stairs, he was grateful.
“Thank you for that,” he said. “I appreciate what you just did for me.”
Oh, well, she didn’t want that thank you.
“You’re going to have to be very careful here, and when you get put back into play, don’t trust anyone.”
He sighed.
“I know how to be a cop.”
Oh, well, she’d heard that before more than a few times with men who thought they were in control.
And they weren’t.
Famous.
Last.
Words.
“Yeah, ask Boone and Cordelia how that worked out for them. She was killed and he nearly died. Or ask Gene, who was betrayed by cops, or…”
He stopped her.
“I get your point.”
“I hope you do, Tommy. This is a bad idea to play ‘kiss me fuck me’ with the bad guys in New Orleans to prove a point that you’ve got a brass set.”
He said nothing.
Why?
Tommy needed this.
