Collision Force (26 page)

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Authors: C.A. Szarek

BOOK: Collision Force
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Working well together
must have extended outside of work, or you wouldn’t have fallen in love with him.”

“Will you stop saying that?”

“Why? It’s true. Only, I wasn’t the one who needed to hear it.”

“I just want to work, Pete. We have a case.”

“The case can wait. Our meeting with the new CI isn’t until one anyway. This issue isn’t going to go away.”

“I don’t have an issue.”

“God, you’re so fricking stubborn.” Pete dragged his hand down his handsome face. “If you want to be miserable for the rest of your life, so be it.”

Andi sighed. The last thing she needed was a pissed off partner. “Just let it go for now. Please.”

“Fine,” Pete said.

“I know you don’t like it, but it’s my life,” Andi whispered.

“Damn right I don’t like it. If it was my kid, I’d want to know.”

Glaring, she leant forward. “So much for dropping it.”

“I will. For
now
. But your belly in a few months won’t. There’re gonna be questions around here. You prepared to answer them?” Fair brow raised, her partner studied her.

She groaned and closed her eyes. Maybe no answer at all would shut him the hell up.

The phone rang. They both jumped and Andi grabbed it.

Thank God it was regarding the burglary case they’d just picked up.

 

Chapter Twenty-Three

 

 

 

Even if they caught Maldonado tomorrow, this case was going to kill Cole. The slimy bastard had been just out of reach several times. Two attempted raids. No juice. Lost a few more contacts. An arrest by accident that hadn’t appeased him in the least.

Cole had always loved his job. But right now, he’d gladly change careers. Bag boy at the grocery store might work.

Stupid fucker Maldonado. He’d blame it all on the weasel.

Who was he kidding? He was stuck. He loathed his new
normal.

He couldn’t get back into his routine and couldn’t blame it on the investigation, let alone being under. The transition had never bothered him before. Granted, he’d never been undercover for as long as he’d spent with Caselli’s organisation, but working wasn’t what was killing him. It was the two sets of big blue eyes haunting him.

Cole hadn’t been able to sleep worth a shit in the three months he’d been home. The bags under his eyes were a new constant, as well as odd looks from people who’d known him for years—Olivia included. She’d even pulled him into her office to see if something was wrong. Well yes, but hell no, he didn’t need a shrink.

Dex had looked at him like he’d grown a second head when he’d declined going to the strip club they’d always frequented. It’d only taken his buddy two seconds to figure out what was up with Cole. He’d walked away shaking his head, muttering something about a new best friend.

Working with Lee was all right. She was passionate, hard-working and cared about the case. But her hair was too dark, she was too short and her eyes weren’t blue.

“Fuck,” Cole muttered, shoving his hand through his hair. He needed to get it cut, but he didn’t give a shit about much.

He watched the FBI logo flip around the screen of his computer.

When he couldn’t take it anymore, he moved the mouse and his desktop appeared. What had he been doing, anyway?

The red flashing light on his phone caught his eye, indicating that he had a voicemail message on his direct line. Cole hit the speaker button.

“Enter your password, followed by pound,” the female voice said.

He sighed as he did so, and pressed one for new messages when she specified.

“Cole…” Her voice caused his heart to go into overdrive. He swallowed hard. “Listen, we need to talk. Uh…call me.”
Click
. Dial tone.

It took all he was made of to not replay it…a hundred times.

Andi…her sweet, even tone rang in his ears, in his heart.

Was something wrong? No clues in her voice, despite her pause after his name. God, he missed her.

“To save message, press two. To delete, press three,” the voice prompted. Forcing his finger down on the number three was accompanied by a deep breath and closed eyes.

He’d call her later. Maybe.

“Gonna call her?” Lee’s voice made him jump.

“Jesus,” Cole cursed. He swivelled his chair around. She had two Starbucks cups in a drink crate, one corner of her full mouth raised.

“Woulda never pegged you for the jumpy type.”

“Only when my partner is eavesdropping,” he muttered.

She laughed, handing him one of the cups. He thanked her and hung up the phone. “Done checking up on me?” Cole glared as she slipped into the chair between their two desks.

Lee shrugged. “I’m just observant. And you like your speakerphone.” Unapologetic, she studied him. He wanted to squirm. “I know it’s none of my business and all, but—”

“You’re right. None of your business. End of.”

She sighed, but her dark gaze was keen, reminding him of Pete. “You know Texas wants to sink their claws into Maldonado. You’ll end up back there for the trial
when
we get him,” Lee said, sipping from her cup.

He wanted to snap at her that it didn’t matter. But it
did
. Cole said nothing. Even though he’d have to go back to Texas to testify, it was too late for him and Andi. He ignored the voice that asked
was it really?

“I talked to the ADA that’ll be handling the case. Nice guy. Nate Crane.” She grinned. “I think you know his brother.”

“Ah, yeah.” Pete’s brother was an assistant district attorney? News to him. But he’d heard of the guy only one time, when he’d been eavesdropping on a phone call himself. Shaking his head, his stomach tightened.

When was he going to stop thinking about her?
Never
, a voice whispered.

“Bruno Gallo’s safely in protective custody, by the way.” Lee’s voice grounded him. “They got him in his own cell. The warden is investigating because it took too long for the guards to break it up. Someone was probably paid off.”

Cole banished his thoughts about what could never be and focused on the case that was far from over. “After the attack the other day, I’m actually glad to hear it. Did you get the full medical report? He’s okay?”

“He was beaten pretty bad, but he’ll be fine. Still agreeing to testify against Caselli.” Her slight Texas accent headed his thoughts back in the wrong direction.

He cleared his throat. “Glad to hear it.”

“Lucas, Dawson. We got a tip. We need to move. Now.”

Heart racing for a different reason now, Cole’s eyes locked onto Special Agent Clint Downs’ hazel ones. “Maldonado?”

“Yup. We got intel he’s brokering a deal at a snazzy five star downtown. We heard he’s even got the girls with him. Let’s go.”

Lee was already on her feet and tossing her coffee cup in the trash can. “About damn time.”

“I’m getting the bastard this time,” Cole growled.

His gorgeous partner flashed a feral smile. “Hell yeah we are.”

Downs nodded and turned on his heel. “Whole team is ready to go.”

Cole followed his team as they rushed downstairs and into the parking garage to two black vans. During the whole ride across hectic New York City, he couldn’t sit still. Probably should have driven to keep himself busy. Lee kept shooting him looks he ignored. He adjusted his vest and tried not to think about the last time he was on his way to a raid.

“You good?” Lee asked.

Nodding, he looked out of the window. The nondescript, dark van was supposed to help them blend in, but Cole was more in sore-thumb territory in his head.

“We’re doing this.” His partner’s confident tone made him nod again.

Cole didn’t want to talk—he didn’t want her to worry about him—so he kept his mouth shut, watching their surroundings as they moved through the heart of the city.

His original hunch that Caselli’s father, Antonio Caselli Senior, former head of the vast crime organisation, had indeed backstabbed Maldonado. From what they’d learnt, Carlo had been fixed up by the old man’s personal physician and had got out of Dodge before the son’s men had come for him. But the move hadn’t patched things up between Tony and Antonio. There’d been a shootout at Senior’s vast mansion.

How Carlo had remained in the state and on the run was a mystery, but now he had both Casellis and the FBI on his ass. It was a race against the bad guys.

Dead wouldn’t look bad on Carlo, but Cole would prefer a small dark room. Besides, after all the asshole had put him through, death was too easy for Maldonado. And he’d shot his woman. Minor wound or not, he had to pay for that.

Wincing as Andi danced into his mind, he shook his head. He didn’t need the distraction. Again.

“Let’s go,” Lee urged him from the van.

His team—him, Lee and nine other agents that made up their human trafficking unit—fanned out, following their plan. Full cooperation from the place helped, and soon they were ready to apprehend Carlo and his buyer.

The fancy suite was visible through the previously placed cameras. The agents had been able to learn the layout of the room, and could see the people inside from their own room across the hall. Carlo had three girls with him, all young, barely dressed and shivering.

“He a mark?” Cole asked the agent manning the cameras, pointing to a skeeze in a cheap suit with slicked back, blonde hair.

The man shook his head. “Nope. Not one of ours. You don’t know him?”

“Not from my time under.”

“Maybe he’s new to the life?” Lee asked. She stood next to him, staring at the screen. “Damn, those girls aren’t even fourteen.”

“Carlo likes them young.” Cole sympathised with his partner’s shock. Human trafficking hadn’t been her speciality in Dallas. “How’d you get the cameras in?” He made eye contact with the other agent.

“Dex did it last week. It was for a sting that’s now been postponed. We happened upon Maldonado by accident.”

“We’re ready,” Downs said, hovering in the doorway.

“Money changed hands,” the agent at the cameras confirmed.

Good, now they got to arrest the skeeze, too.

“Let’s go,” Lee said.

Cole took some satisfaction from the look on Carlo’s face when they burst through the door of his suite. The girls screamed and two semi-automatic handguns hit the carpet at the first shout of, “Federal Agents!”

“Fucking Lucas,” Carlo spat, not fazed in the least that Cole’s Glock was trained on him. “Thought you were in Texas?”

“Aww, Carlo, you know I couldn’t help but follow you. You and I go way back.”

Maldonado scowled, but his shoulders slumped.

After chasing Maldonado for months, and all the close calls, Cole couldn’t believe it was going to be this easy.

Was it really going to be this easy?

Carlo’s buyer cussed Clint Downs to hell and back as he cuffed him. The Russian accent caught Cole’s attention, but he didn’t tear his eyes from his nemesis. Smart of him to deal with someone new, though. Had Caselli broken into the Russian market too or was Carlo slyer than he looked?

“C’mon, Carlo, don’t tell me you’re not gonna fight me,” Cole said as he approached slowly, kicking the Beretta farther out of Maldonado’s range.

“Fuck you, Lucas.”

“No thanks.” He flashed a grin at the dark look Carlo shot him.

“Cuff him, partner, I got your back,” Lee said from behind him.

Carlo growled, but didn’t fight him as he reholstered and slipped behind the bastard. A wave of satisfaction washed over him as he wrenched the guy’s injured arm down and back to cuff him. Other than the curse he muttered, Maldonado said nothing, so Cole held back the jibe he had ready, and restrained the urge to knock him on his ass.

The click and snap was the best sound he’d heard since he’d left Texas. Lucky and easy had an odd taste on his tongue. But they’d got him.

“Better you than Caselli—either variety,” Carlo whispered. “What do you want to know, Lucas?” he asked a moment later, his voice steadier and louder.

“Hmmm, general population not looking so good, Maldonado?” Lee asked, winking at Cole. Being in a regular pod—even Federal prison—could get Carlo killed, given his affinity for sex with young girls. The bastard would want to aim for protective custody, even if he had to beg for it. Surprisingly, even convicts didn’t like paedophiles.

Chuckling at his partner, he addressed the slippery asshole he’d chased too long. “Maybe we can talk.”

“Maybe?” Carlo barked, dark eyes wide. “Anything you want to know, I promise.”

“A promise from you doesn’t mean shit.”

Maldonado shook from head to foot, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

Members of their team hovered. Cole said nothing, exchanging a look with his partner. He took a breath and crossed his arms. “Get him out of my sight.”

Agent Downs stepped forward, grabbing Carlo’s upper arm. “I’ll take him out the back way. Roberts, Morris, you’re with me. Two thugs known to be associated with Caselli the younger were spotted in the lobby.”

“Wow, Maldonado, you’re popular indeed,” Lee said, one corner of her full mouth lifted.

Carlo went white, trembling in Clint Downs’ grip, his step sluggish as the other two agents stepped forward. Cole swallowed a curse. They’d been closer to losing him than they’d thought.

“Lucas, I want to talk. I want to talk, man,” Carlo shouted as he was led away.

The three teens sobbed, arms around each other as one of Cole’s fellow female agents moved them against the far wall and tried to urge them into the plush chairs in the room. As soon as they calmed, their interviews would begin. Hopefully their families could be located—there would be no telling if they were Americans or illegals until they’d talked to them.

“You’re gonna listen to what he has to say, right?” Lee asked, taking his attention from the true victims of this whole thing.

“Oh yeah. But I have to let him stew for a while.” Cole flashed a smile.

 

* * * *

 

The rest of the day was a whirlwind of interviews and evidence. Carlo’s Beretta was shipped off to the lab, no doubt the murder weapon Texas would need to prove he’d killed Gains and Reese, though the coward had already confessed on paper to Cole. Andi and Pete would be pleased.

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