“Losing two.” The chief dropped the pen and it rolled to the edge of the desk.
“Two!” I stood, hands on my hips. “What the fuck?” I turned from Jonathan to Ricardo. “Do you guys know what the heck he’s talking about?”
Jonathan shook his head. His jaw was set so tight a tendon flexed beneath the stubble in his cheek.
“Nope, not me.” Ricardo’s voice was thick with tension.
“Carl,” I said, holding out my hands. “Don’t tell me you’ve got his badge in there too.”
“It pains me to tell you I have.” The chief pulled open a drawer and tossed first one, then another badge onto the polished surface of his table. “Seems Enrique Feldon had some degree of success in obliterating your team, guys, even if he didn’t get a bullet in any of you.”
“And what’s Carl’s excuse?” Jonathan said.
“He’s been thinking of giving it up for a while.” The chief shrugged. “I knew it was on his mind, so while it’s a surprise for you folks, it isn’t for me.”
“Yeah, it’s a surprise,” I said. “I had his back this morning and he had mine. How could we not know what was on his mind? We’re like family. I pride myself in that.”
“Carl has a real family. And as you know his wife has been ill, one of his children…let’s say is ‘slightly off the rails’. He needs to concentrate on them. He’s going to be on light police duties for six months. But don’t give up hope—he can come back providing he can prove his fitness and maintains his SWAT skills.”
“This is the fucking pits.” I stomped to the window and stared out at the lot. The day had heated and the air blistered from the tarmac in a fuzzy haze. “So who is replacing them?” I turned to the chief. “Or is it just us three now?”
“No, of course not. You’ll be joined tomorrow by Officer Sean Mendez and Officer Balko Schichof.”
“Balko Schichof. Where is he from?” I tutted.
“Boston. They’re both coming down to be part of SWAT fifty-five, and I suggest you’re nice and welcoming. Bake them some cookies.”
“Of course we’ll be nice.” Ricardo stood.
“And show them the ropes,” the chief went on. “They’ll both be a long way from home. Miami is a different kettle of fish to Boston.”
“We can do that.” Jonathan stood and looped his thumbs over his belt.
I grunted and folded my arms. Losing two members of the team was bad. We operated like one person, always knowing what each other would do without having to map it out. Training and working together in such a high risk, high-octane environment did that to officers. And now we had not one but two new members to get used to.
To knock into shape.
It was the last thing I felt like doing.
I had enough shit to deal with.
“We should go sink a few beers,” Ricardo said as we left the chief’s office.
“Yeah, I’m up for that,” Jonathan said.
“Nah, I’m going to go and fire a few rounds.” I shrugged. “It’ll make me feel better.”
“You hardly need the practice,” Jonathan said. “From what I’ve heard, your shots this morning proved you’re one of the best in the business.”
“And I want to keep it that way.” I gestured to the elevator. “I’ll be at the range for an hour or so. What bar you going to?”
“The usual.” Jonathan shrugged. “See you there.”
For a moment I hesitated. There was something in his dark eyes, something he wasn’t telling me. And I knew Jonathan well, really well. “What?” I asked.
A small smile tipped the right side of his mouth. “Nothing.”
“Tell me.”