“Excuse me?” Ty said, his stature appearing to grow before Day’s eyes and immediately he felt a familiar, large presence against his back.
“What it means is my badge and my balls are bigger than yours. Now step back so I can cuff my suspects,” God said, his tone taking on an edge of threat and finality. “Tell Duke if he has a problem, he knows where to find me.”
“Or you can just say God sends his blessing.” Day waved.
True to form. Duke’s agents were smart and Ty tucked his paperwork away and fell back without another word, keeping himself between them and his still-hooded partner as they left. Day let out a pent-up breath as Ruxs and Green secured two of the last leads they had on solving their case.
And getting justice for one heartbroken mother.
Ex pulled his eye away from the scope of his R93 sniper rifle as he watched the detectives from the rooftop of the adjacent building haul two men into their custody. He didn’t need to look to know that Meridian stood on the other side of the building watching the bounty hunters retreat. This town was turning out to be full of surprises. Ex had been about to send Meridian in to snatch the older of the two suspects the police had under surveillance, to torture for information on Evan’s death, but two silent, well-coordinated motherfuckers had come from out of nowhere and had shifted their plan. Ex could’ve taken them both out from where he was perched, but he’d decided to keep the casualties to a minimum and his revenge directed at the right targets—not at officials trying to correct the same problems they were. Besides, it’d been rather interesting to watch the police and the bounty hunters butt heads so hard. He hadn’t seen sport like that in ages.
So far he and Meridian hadn’t uncovered any deceit or corruption within the special narcotics task force unit, headed up by Lieutenant Cashel Godfrey and his partner Leonidis Day. As Ex watched the three large trucks disappear down the street, casting flashes of red and blue lights amongst the run-down buildings, Meridian eased up close beside him.
His partner pulled one of his Sobranie Black Russian cigarettes from his jacket pocket—a habit he’d yet to shed after his two months spent undercover in a Turkish prison—and slid the gold filter into his mouth. “Godfrey and his team did it by the book. Came late at night to limit civilian interference. Announced themselves. I didn’t see an overuse of force.”
“Yeah.” Ex let his almost three-foot rifle rest over his shoulder and turned to face Meridian. “So what seems to be the problem?”
“Might be higher up. They’re making arrests but not getting convictions.” His partner blew the smoke out slowly as if savoring the flavor, his dark eyes focused on him through the plume of white smoke. “Prosecutor’s office... judges?”
“That’ll take some time.” Ex stepped away from the ledge and headed towards the roof’s access door. He sent Slade a quick text as he descended the stairs, his partner right behind him. They stepped out of the emergency exit and their ride was waiting for them.
Once inside the warm confines of the black Lincoln Town car, Ex began to break down his weapon and place the many components into their proper place in the titanium case. “It’ll take time we don’t have.”
Meridian was quiet and Ex let him think.
“It’s doable,” his partner said after a long moment. “We’ve been out of Bolivia less than a month. They won’t activate us that fast. We got time if you need it, Ex. I know it’s important for you to find Evan’s killer.”
“It’s what’s right,” Ex gritted. He pressed the scope into its Styrofoam indentation with aggression then went for the cartridge. “A murderer is terrorizing the community. This is what we do.”
“Don’t lie to yourself or me. We have nothing to do with domestic terrorism. That’s a problem for the local authorities. We’ll be disciplined if anyone gets wind of this.”
“Of this?” Ex said, making sure he was hearing correctly.
“Shouldn’t take much digging,” Meridian said, staring at his phone. “There’s a director, a chief prosecutor and fourteen deputy district attorneys in the prosecutor’s office. And three judges in the general district courts that try the task force’s busts.”
“We’d have to look deep and fast.” Ex nodded. He was almost done with the disassembling of his weapon, choosing to take his time to allow the well-rehearsed movements to settle his fiery spirit.
“It’d be ten times faster if we had a team doing the research. Transportation will also be a problem.”
“I already have some ideas on how to handle that. Trust me.” As if Ex needed to say that. This was who he and Meridian were. They each brought valuable skills to their partnership that the other couldn’t do without, but Ex loved to concoct a plan and watch Meridian execute it masterfully. They’d worked the world from Lago, Nicaragua, to the craggy cliffs of the Dingle Peninsula, from the shit tunnels of Cuba to the palaces of Riyadh, Saudi Arabia.