Flint’s Battle (Team KOA Bravo #3)

Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

“You son of a bitch.”

Flint was out of his seat and toe-to-toe with Milligan a second later. Hands fisted at his side so he didn’t do something rash like grabbing the other man then pinning him against the wall. His buddies gathered around him a moment later. Not quite interfering but not backing down, either. More like they were deciding if punching Milligan would be worth the reprimand.

Milligan didn’t flinch. “Stand down, Lieutenant.”

“Stand down?” Flint got closer. “You looked me in the eye and told me you’d have Emery’s back, then relegated her safety to a bunch of uniforms you couldn’t guarantee were even clean! And all because you thought she might be dirty?”

He shoved his hand through his hair when her boss simply stared at him. “What’s the matter, Milligan. Did I mumble?”

“Get real, O’Connell.” Milligan glared at him. “I never thought Emery was dirty. If you’ve been listening, we already stated we didn’t know the cases were connected. As far as I was concerned, some gang banger had taken a pot shot at her. Hell, she spends so much time at Ohana’s, it could have been a college kid she’d kicked out of the bar. I followed protocol.”

“Bullshit. You’re way too savvy not to have put it all together because that factory incident had cartel written all over it. That’s why you asked if I’d be driving her home more often and why you didn’t balk at me and my team hanging around the hospital. You were hoping we’d crush whatever scheme those assholes set in motion without you having to show your hand.”

“I was hoping you’d keep her safe. It’s not like I could ask everyone involved in her security if they were on the take. But just my luck, when the shit did hit the fan, you didn’t leave anyone alive to question.”

Bowie snorted. “Those assholes tried to kill people we love. We reacted accordingly.”

Flint ignored Bowie’s slip, maintaining eye contact with Milligan. “If you’d confided in us, we could have altered our strategy — set a trap. As it was, we were a step behind because we thought the ward was secure. If Moana hadn’t been included and Emery wasn’t Black Ops tough, we would have been too late.”

Milligan stared at him for several moments before shaking his head. “I knew you were trouble, O’Connell, the moment I laid eyes on you. You Spec Op boys just can’t turn that shit off.” He sighed. “I’ll admit, the hospital situation was… unfortunate.”

“Unfortunate? She pulls out most of her stitches and loses half a liter of blood, but it’s unfortunate?”

“Call it whatever you’d like. But if you believe I wanted Emery to get hurt, then we have bigger issues here. And while I had my suspicions that the factory might be the lucky break Porter and I had been hoping for, I honestly didn’t think there’d be another attempt on her life with the number of police patrolling the building — the odd dirty cop or not.”

He blew out a rough breath. “And yes, I’m well aware of how lucky I am that both you and Emery came through.”

Milligan tugged on his shirt. “Are we done? Or are we going to waste more time rehashing old threats? Because those assholes are still out there, and I doubt they’re going to give Emery a pass because they struck out a couple times.”

“Flint.”

Emery pushed her way through the gathering of men, stopping between Flint and Milligan. She placed one hand on Flint’s chest, staring at him until he took a healthy step back. But it cost him. Took every ounce of restraint not to hike her up on his shoulder and leave. Get Waylen to lend Flint a boat so they could bug out until her boss and Porter got their heads out of their asses.

Emery eyed her boss, not giving an inch until the man lowered his shoulders and eased back. Not as much as Flint but at least the man had moved.

She swung her gaze back to Flint. “I understand why you’re upset?—”

“Oh, I’m beyond upset, sweetheart.”

“As am I. But right now, we need to focus on moving forward. On finding a way to get these bastards out in the open so someone can toss their asses in jail and throw away the key. Preferably me. So, everyone zip up.”

Emery turned to her boss. “But don’t think for a moment I’m going to let this slide.” She focused on Porter. “So, these contacts.”

Porter scoffed. “Still unknown. I know there’s a leak in the Coast Guard. Likely two individuals, which explains how the shipments get past the patrols. And we’re certain there’s a couple of patrol officers and a detective involved to account for the immensity of the cover up. But until the other night, we hadn’t caught the bastards performing an actual drop.”

Porter tapped his chin. “Though, I’m a bit surprised you made it to the top of their hit list after only one encounter. Nothing in your report suggested they’d come after you the way they did. You said one of them was blond. Did you notice anything else about him?”

Emery glanced at Flint, silently asking if he thought she should answer honestly, then sighing when he nodded. “I got a decent enough look at his face to know I’d never seen him before.”

Porter perked up. “But you’d recognize him if you saw him, again?”

Emery snorted. “I’m pretty damn good with faces. And before you ask, he’s not someone I’ve seen in any of our databases.”

“Does that mean he got a really good look at you, too?”

“Probably. Though, there were bullets flying and he was focusing more on running, then jumping into the boat. But even if he didn’t, there are only two female detectives on the west side. And I don’t look anything like Kelani.”

Flint moved in beside her. “You think whoever she saw is the key to unraveling this entire operation.”

“The fact he’s worried enough she’d find him amidst two hundred thousand residents that he ordered a hit several hours later implies he’s someone she might cross paths with in the future.”

Milligan arched a brow. “Funny how you neglected to include that little tidbit in your report.”

Emery scoffed. “I did include it. One of the suspects was blond, about six-foot two with an athletic build. Being able to recognize him, again, doesn’t mean I can accurately describe him. I’ll just know it’s him when I see him.”

“Perhaps you should sit down, Emery. Because I didn’t understand a word you said.”

She rolled her eyes, then smiled up at Flint. “You understand, right?”

“Crystal clear, sweetheart.”

Her cheeks flushed a bit at the endearment before she shifted, inhaling when her right shoulder twisted. She waved off his concern, focusing on Porter. “Other than hoping I bump into the creep, there’s got to be some way of anticipating where and when their next drop will be. If they were bold enough to make an attempt on my life inside a hospital full of cops, they aren’t going to postpone a shipment because I crashed their last meeting. I’d suggest the factory again, but until it’s cleared?—”

“It’s cleared.”

Emery whipped her head around so fast to look at Milligan, Flint had to grab her to stop her from tripping onto her ass. She grimaced, crushing all but a soft moan before nodding her thanks. “What do you mean, it’s clear? It’s only been a few days.”

Milligan shrugged. “Simmons released it last night.”

“But…” She winced, again, not that anyone else might have noticed but Flint did. She was hurting and he was a few minutes away from ending the meeting. “How can he release a scene when the DEA and ATF haven’t even walked through it, yet?”

“Simmons refused interagency help. He insists this is a drug-related drop. That the weapons are from the Tenth-Street gang over in Honolulu trying to muscle in on local markets. And our federal brothers have more cases than they can deal with, so they’re happy to let it play out for a while before insisting they be included.”

“I always knew Simmons was an ass.” She cradled her arm, despite the sling still holding it immobile. “So, what’s stopping them from using the factory again? There are so many false calls to that place, most of the patrols just ignore them. And who would think they’d be ballsy enough to go back when they’d just been busted? It’s kind of poetic, really.”

Carter cursed. “Shit. Do you guys think that’s the factory in question?”

“I already cleared the whole building.” Bowie crossed his arms. “Not a bell, whistle or horn in sight. And no record of there ever being any, either.”

“Since when has there been any talk about a factory?” Milligan stared at Bowie. “And did you just admit you disturbed an active crime scene?”

“I was careful.” Bowie glanced at Flint. “And it was something our Peter Pan guy said before he died. About this gang ringing a factory bell for months.”

“That asshole talked to you? Before he nose-dived off the roof? And you didn’t say anything?”

“We were looking into it. And we would have informed you if anything had panned out.” Flint shrugged. “But it was obvious you had a leak, and we weren’t willing to risk it.”

“Is that your way of saying you thought I was dirty, O’Connell?”

“We considered it.” Quinn shuffled closer. “But Flint insisted you could be trusted. Jury’s still out for me, though. Now back to the factory… any chance he was talking about another place?”

“No.” Emery shook her head. “It’s definitely the Wilson factory.”

Bowie pursed his lips before giving her a small smile. “I triple checked about that bell. And I don’t think our guy was lying or paraphrasing.”

“He wasn’t referencing the actual factory. He meant the bar several miles down the road. All the workers used to go there after shift, and they rang a damn bell whenever a couple of them got into a fight and the loser had to buy a round for the house. My dad said he was called out there at least three times a week to patch guys up but almost always on Monday and Friday nights. And Flint and I busted in on their party last Friday, so…”

“So, tonight’s Monday.” Porter tapped his chin. “If this place is so perfect, why hasn’t it popped up on my radar. I’ve been keeping tabs and there hasn’t been so much as a vagrancy ticket issued to this address.”

“That’s because it’s like the place that cried wolf too many times. Waylen… do me a favor and get into the station’s dispatch logs and cross check the days of all the calls Mr. Snider made over the last few months.”

“Get into…” Milligan moved over to stand behind Waylen. “You aren’t seriously going to hack my precinct, are you?”

Waylen chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’m one of the good guys.”

Milligan cursed under his breath. “Porter, remind me to up my station’s cyber security.”

Waylen waved the man off. “No need. It’s pretty decent.”

“And yet, you’re cruising through those logs as we speak.”

Waylen shrugged. “All right. For the past six months, Mr. Snider called intermittently on the weekends. Mostly Saturday nights.”

“Those would be your ghost hunters and frat kids.” Emery nodded at the computer. “What about more recently?”

“Looks like he started reporting lights flashing in the upper floor windows starting about three months ago. They’ve ramped up since then and are primarily on Monday and Friday nights. And those Saturday calls stopped completely three weeks ago.”

“I’m sure they’ve found a way to deter those weekend warriors. Or hire them.”

Milligan straightened, looking less than pleased. “It’s not like none of those calls weren’t investigated.”

“True.” Emery shuffled a bit as if trying to get more comfortable. “But most patrol officers just do a drive-by. Maybe amble around that first floor.”

“Are you suggesting my men have gotten lax, detective?”

“I’m suggesting we’re understaffed and overworked. Patrol often has three more calls waiting in the queue. It’s reality, sir.”

Porter held up his hand. “Hard proof or not, it’s the most promising lead we’ve had. What were you thinking? Stakeout?”

“I’m thinking you assemble a small team of highly trained…” Emery looked up at Flint and winked. “And decorated individuals paired with a few guys from tactical you swear can’t be bought, and we go to Mr. Snider’s house and wait. I’m fairly certain he’ll let me and some friends through the door. And he seemed quite impressed with Flint.”

“No way.” Milligan stepped forward before Flint had a chance to voice his concerns. “You’re in no condition to be a part of this.”

“I’m not suggesting I tag along with the team. But I can sit in Mr. Snider’s living room and sip tea with the man while you guys do all the heavy lifting.” Emery drew herself up, despite the fact it drained any remaining color from her face. “They tried to kill me. I’ve earned the right to see their organization burned to the ground.”

“And you can hear all about it from the fire station, where you’ll be waiting with your brother, Jack, in his office.” Milligan shook his head. “Non-negotiable, Emery. You can help us get into Mr. Snider’s place, then you’ll have Jack drive you to the station. Or, Flint can talk his way into Snider’s and you can stay here. With Hawk.”

Hawk groaned, though Flint knew it was more for show. An attempt to lighten the mood a bit. “I’ve seen Emery fight. I think I’d rather be part of the tactical team.”

“Funny.” Emery took a step then tanked right.

Flint lunged for her, catching her around the waist before she’d slammed into the floor — landed on that bad shoulder. He tugged her against his chest, going to one knee as Kian all but leapt off the wall, covering the short distance in a heartbeat. Flint didn’t know if Kian had already had a stethoscope hiding under his shirt or if he’d made one materialize out of thin air. Didn’t care because his buddy had it pressed against Emery’s chest — the other hand checking the pulse in her wrist.

Kian shook his head. “She’s fine. Just exhausted. Which I’m sure she’ll deny the second she wakes up. But nothing a few days of sleep won’t cure.” He motioned to Flint. “Go on. I’ll make sure you aren’t left out of the mission.”

Flint nodded his thanks, rising with Emery in his arms. She blinked a few times, mumbling something about Snider and the tactical team before drifting off, her head snugged against Flint’s shoulder. Bowie held the door for him, mouthing that he’d be over once they were done as Flint headed for his cabin, Raider tagging along in case someone had tracked her down — had been waiting until she was isolated to take another shot. Unlikely with Cooper and a couple of the other handlers doing rounds, but Flint appreciated the backup.

He thanked Raider then made his way to the bedroom, smiling down at Emery when she roused as he was placing her on the bed.

She blinked again, groaning as she looked around the room. “Please tell me I didn’t pass out.”

He chuckled. “You didn’t pass out. You just fell asleep extremely quickly.”

“Ass.”

“You need to rest.” He shushed her when she opened her mouth to protest. “Emery. It’s barely been forty-eight hours. If we weren’t worried about your safety, you’d still be in the hospital.”

“You wouldn’t let an injury stop you.”

He sighed, then moved to the edge of the bed. “If this was life or death like what you and Moana faced in the hospital, I’d be all for having you push through. But it’s not and you can afford to rest.”

He tucked her hair back, wishing he could fist it while he tasted the soft skin on her lips. “That’s the great part about having a team. They can finish a mission when you need time to recover. Now, if you actually sleep for a few hours, you’ll be strong enough to go to Snider’s then on to the fire station. But if you keep pushing like you have been, you’ll pass out, again, before we reach your Jeep.”

Emery pouted, pressing her head into the pillow before crooking her fingers at him. “Then, at least join me.”

“Sweetheart.”

“You’re just going to stand watch, anyway. And I know Cooper’s still out there.” She smiled. “I’ll sleep better if you’re holding me.”

Flint grinned, then toed off his shoes before removing hers and shuffling in beside her. He lifted one arm, helping her snuggle against him, her bad side resting against his arm. Her head on his chest.

And just like that, everything settled.

Emery hummed, softly burrowing into him. “See? Better.”

“Just behave yourself. I saw that look in your eyes, and it’ll be another week or two before you can pounce and not do more damage.”

“I’m sure you could find a way to make love to me without it being an Olympic event.”

“It’s not me, sweetheart. You’re the one who makes it a full body experience.”

“That sounds like a challenge.”

Flint peered down at her, loving how some of the color had already returned to her cheeks. As if being close to him eased her demons, too. “I’ll make you a deal.”

She arched a brow. “This should be interesting.”

“You agree to wait tonight out with Jack — stay out of the line of fire — and I’ll find a way to make you see stars after without compromising your recovery.”

“That sounds more like blackmail than a deal.”

“I’m adaptable. Well?”

She huffed. “I hate not being directly involved.”

He palmed her cheek. “I know.”

She nuzzled into his touch. “Deal. But no backing out because you’re afraid I’ll break.”

“Promise.” He dipped down — kissed her. “Sleep. This ends tonight.”