Chapter 2

“You can proceed and have a seat in the office if you wish, Special Agent Brandt. Dan Hoskins should be back any moment,” the voluptuous blond-haired, blue-eyed receptionist offered.

Edward Brandt never fully understood why Dan preferred such women as his assistants in the Bureau. She couldn’t have been more than twenty-three years old. Almost half Brandt’s age and most certainly half that of Dans’ age.

Was it a reminder of youth sort of thing? he pondered

Some strange daddy and young female fetishes?

Brandt shuddered. Some things are probably just better left in secrecy. Even within these walls.

Brandt himself was not someone to be immediately dismissed in the looks department. Sure, he had a few gray hairs at the age of forty-one. He stood squarely at six feet, with a well-groomed mop of brown hair, and a set of dazzling deep blue eyes. He maintained an athletic build, nothing too muscular, just suitable for someone in his occupation. Running down the bad guys! His personality wavered on charismatic, playful, and professional when necessary. His wife Joyce always felt like the luckiest woman in the world.

“Thanks.”

Upon entering the door, he couldn’t help but squint a little while his eyes adjusted to the brightly lit room. He sat down in front of the wooden executive desk with a placard that read ‘SAIC Dan Hoskins,’ short for Special Agent in Charge. Directly underneath it read ‘National Security Branch.’ It never ceased to amaze him how minimalistic Dan liked to keep his office. Aside from the desk, the table lamp, a computer, and two tall metal filing cabinets, it was completely devoid of character. The window behind his desk offered a brief reprieve that life did exist outside of this office. But most of the time, Dan left the blinds closed so that only slivers of light peered through the slats.

Brandt never fancied himself to be the executive type either. When he entered the Bureau four years ago, it took quite a bit of adjustment to don the slacks, collared shirt, and tie that gave the perception of professionalism amongst the masses. Jeans and an unbranded shirt were more of his style, but that would have to remain a weekend thing for the time being.

Still, he felt taking up the offer from his long-time friend, Dan, was the best opportunity he could receive. The anti-police groups were on the rise in twenty-eighteen. Incidents that led to the formation of groups such as Black Lives Matter and ANTIFA directed hatred upon the noblest police officers as well as the bad ones. The feeling of disrespect for doing a job that most people lacked the courage or conviction for led him to pursue employment elsewhere. While he loved helping the general public, he didn’t want to have fellow Americans view him as an enemy. At least the eighteen years of service in the department weren’t in vain. He was skilled in weapons and tactics, educated, and knew how to interact with people.

“Agent Brandt is in the office, sir,” he heard the receptionist call out.

There was no reply, but Brandt immediately stood up from the chair as the door to the office abruptly opened.

Dan burst into the office. He was a little on the heavier side these days at the age of fifty-two. A couple of failed marriages and the stresses of the job would do it for you. His face was beet red, clearly having some sort of episode.

“Fucking animals! Someone SHIT on the air freshener!” Dan yelled.

A snicker from the receptionist could be heard through the door. But Dan seemed to be too induced in his rage to notice.

“Pardon me, sir?”

The few hurried steps to get behind his desk and into his chair allowed him to cool down slightly.

“Even in a place like this, class is only optional, it seems! Have a seat!”

“I’m not sure I’m following you, sir. Would you mind taking it from the top?” Brandt said as he lowered himself back into his chair.

The look of immense rage had nearly faded from his face, but the glare towards Brandt still gave the impression that this event still boiled in his mind.

“I went to the restroom. I took care of my business. When I reached for the can of air freshener, someone else’s nasty shit was on there!” His voice started to calm down a little. You can sense that the wheel in his head was turning. “You know what I should do? Send it to the lab for DNA analysis. And have the fucking prick who did it re-organize the entire archives.”

Brandt squirmed a little in his chair. Dan was usually a very calm and collected person. As much as he was a friend, he maintained professionalism no matter who was in his office. Seeing him break like this was awkward. Maybe someone just needed to ease the tension.

“So, you are assigning me to this case?”

A slight grin began forming on Dan’s face. “No,” he chuckled slightly. “I’m sorry about the theatrics. It’s just one of those mornings. I had a blowout coming into work as well. Damn near collided with a school bus. But anyway. I called you in here to get a debrief on the operation last week.”

“I’ve already submitted my report, sir.”

“Yes, yes. But I feel compelled to hear it directly, before it gets mangled through the chain of bureaucracy. What happened last week?”

Brandt let out a small sigh. He felt like this may be more of an inquisition than one of professional courtesy.

“It started as a normal shift change that night. We always stagger the relief times so it’s not predictable or noticeable to unintended eyes. At twelve-twenty-four A.M., Agent Marcos and I rendezvoused with the ‘Alpha’ team outside the Starbucks on 3^rd Avenue and Sycamore Street. We drove the blue Dodge Caravan that night, seeing as how Agent Sanchez and Williams were in the silver Kia Sorento. We switched vehicles every day as well to avoid suspicion. When the Alpha team noticed us, they headed home. There was no nodding or any other type of acknowledgment between them and us.”

Dan simply nodded and kept his full focus on everything Brandt was saying. He motioned with his right hand to proceed before folding both hands again.

“The orders were always to stay Saturday dressed. Civilian attire with emphasis on jeans and a casual shirt. If not in the vehicle or pursuit, then badges and our issued Glock 19M must always remain in the vehicle, even for the occasional piss break. Agent Marcos offered to get some coffee and I agreed. He left his sidearm in the vehicle, underneath the passenger seat. But when he opened the door to the coffee shop, I saw the glint from his badge on his hip. I may have wanted to run out there and correct him, but that would have just made a scene. It was too late for any of that anyways. When he re-entered the vehicle, I told---."

“Why do you think that he kept his badge on him?” Dan interrupted.

“He’s a good agent, but I don’t know how well you know him when he’s NOT on the job. He’s a bit of a playboy. He has told me time and time again that the badge gets him so much tail---”

“Tail? Excuse me?” Dan interjected with a raised eyebrow and a slight grin.

“Apologies, sir. I meant to say that he peruses intercourse with individuals of the opposite sex for sport.”

Dan simply laughed. “Fair enough. Thanks for the clarification.”

“He even offers that I should go out there with him sometime. That usually leads to a conversation about how happy I am with Joyce. Anyways, he usually leaves his sidearm, though, when he’s on the prowl. I’m guessing that it’s just force of habit, but still no excuse to not be fully focused while on the job.”

“You didn’t put that into your report, though.” Dan raised an eyebrow.

“No, I wanted to keep the facts directly related to the event.”

Dan motioned again with his right hand to proceed.

“As I was saying. I told him that we are not at the club. We are not strolling through the boardwalk. He needed to keep his mind on the job, and stupid mistakes like that can give us away and ruin this entire case.

“We pulled away and started heading to the surveillance spot outside of the warehouse. The vehicle that appeared behind us turned everywhere that we did. I knew we had a tail now. I can’t be sure if someone from Starbucks witnessed Agent Marcos and called it into the bosses of the Fratelli organization or not. But it would certainly make sense. At least they waited until there was a long desolate stretch of road before they attacked us.”

“And they attacked first?” Dan questioned.

“Of course. We were completely ready to abandon the night’s efforts and call in the ‘Charlie’ team on standby. That’s when the first shot came through the back window. The impact from the glass altered the rounds trajectory and took out the radio. I didn’t want to lead a firefight into a populated area, so I got off the road and slammed on the brakes. The sudden halt upon the dirt spun our vehicle ninety degrees until we slammed into a tree. The other vehicle stopped about fifty meters behind us, with their headlights focused on our crashed vehicle.

“The light was too blinding to see what they were doing. But when the shots started peppering the drivers’ side of the vehicle, we knew this would be a battle. The passenger side door was wedged against the tree. So, Agent Marcos and I had to climb over to the back seat and exit from the rear passenger side. I believe the tinted windows on the side of the Caravan are the only reason they didn’t see us escape. The front windshield had no tint, but the vehicle wasn’t facing them head-on.

“We made our way behind the tree that our vehicle had impacted. Agent Marcos slumped down and sat on the turf. I noticed that he had been shot through and through on his right shoulder. I then ripped the shirt open from the torn hole and noticed that it wasn’t life-threatening, but he certainly wasn’t going to be able to use his firearm.

“I heard the footsteps approaching us. That’s when I decided to go prone. I didn’t want to make too much movement or too much noise. Those two morons had no tactics whatsoever. I moved underneath the vehicle and noticed two sets of legs coming toward us. That’s when I fired five shots at their shins. They fell like a pallet of bricks. I’ll tell you one thing, they were well-fed. Our eyes met when they fell to the ground. They maneuvered their pistols to take the shot at me, but I proactively emptied the rest of my magazine into both.

“I must have waited around ten minutes or so under there. Staring at those two lifeless pieces of shit. I didn’t hear any more footsteps, so I backed out from under the vehicle and flanked their car. The car was clear; it was only those two. At that point, I made the phone call to report it. I spent the next half an hour tending to Agent Marcos.”

“So, there it is sir.”

“Listen. You know I’m your boss and more than that, a friend. The character you possess is admirable, and everyone notices it. I’ll do everything in my power to ensure that the truth stays the truth, and you are not wronged by this. We need to find out how exactly you two were made. And of course, Agent Marcos’s report does not say anything about still having his badge on when he entered that coffee shop. So just take the week off while internal affairs do their nonsense. Besides, I’m sure that you and Joyce could use some quality time.”

Brandt mulled it over in his mind. I suppose that I can understand the process.

“I suppose that’s reasonable. To be honest, I’m still a little amped up from the event. Is this standard practice to have everything scrutinized sir?”

“More common than ever. No matter where you go, someone has it out for someone else.” Dan gave a saddened look.

“All right, I’ll go. Thanks for looking out for me, sir.”

Dan nodded. “Tell Joyce I said hello”.

“Will do, I’ll let her know that you got SHIT-CANNED.”

Dan made a face; it was half laughter and half anger. “Ugh! Get out, I have to call the lab!”.