Chapter 24

Mike yawned for the hundredth time as Mason droned on and on about budget items. Luckily, he wasn't the only one losing focus. Cisco also looked like he might have had a late outing the night before because the man's lids kept slipping to near-closed before he'd catch himself and jerk back to awareness.

Mason had rolled his eyes a few times in their direction, looking slightly displeased that they weren't paying close attention, but he hadn't yet said a word.

The phone in Mike's pocket rang, and that all changed.

"Seriously, Mike?" Mase groused. "You didn't mute your phone? You can't give me two uninterrupted hours of your time?"

"Sorry, Chief." Mike already had his hand on his device, ready to pull it out and have a gander. "But it might be the kids, so I…"

Mason immediately backed down with a sigh. "Right. I understand. Family is the most important thing. It's just that I hate this paperwork shit, and I'd like to get it over with so we can all go home."

Taking that as permission to peek at his device, Mike extracted his phone and looked at the screen.

Unknown caller.

Well. That was easy.

"Nobody I know," Mike told the boss happily, tossing his phone on the table. "Must be a spam call. Go on," he encouraged Mason.

"Okay. We're down to line item twelve. If we?—"

Mike's phone rang again.

Mason growled.

"Shit," Mike commiserated. But he glanced at the screen again and scowled. "Same number."

Mason gave a huge sigh. "Take it, then block the caller if it turns out to be bullshit."

Mike was all over that. Fucking telemarketers. Especially at this time of night. He picked up his phone and connected. "Yeah?" he barked.

"Is this Mike Carlese?" a male voice asked, sounding angsty as hell.

"Listen," Mike huffed. "I'm not buying anything, so you can lose this number." He was just about to disconnect when the voice became frantic.

"Don't hang up. They took her! They took Elle."

Mike's blood ran cold. "Who is this, and what the hell are you talking about?"

At the chilling tone of his voice, Mike could see all the squad leaders around the table immediately go on alert.

"This is Wendel. At the bar. Your girlfriend went out for a cigarette break, and I noticed a bunch of guys looking at her funny. When three of them followed her out, I decided it might be a good idea to tail them."

Mike could hear the man's voice shaking, and he knew things had to be bad. He figured it took a lot to rattle the big barkeep.

Wendel continued. "The biggest guy didn't waste any time. He tackled her from behind. I was ready to dial 911, but Elle managed not only to get away, she sent the guy to the dirt."

All well and fine, but Wendel had said, taken…

"The attacker got up fast and chased her. Grabbed her by the hair and slammed her face into a truck." He quickly gave Mike all the details of her fight.

Mike wanted to roar his displeasure that someone had hurt Joe, and gloat that she'd turned the tables on a combatant, but he had to pay attention because clearly the rest was fucked up. Wendel was getting to the point, and he didn't want to miss any details. As it was, Mike was already on his feet, ready to roll. As were his fellow team members.

Wendel's voice was pained. "I thought it was all over, but one of the other guys who'd come out of the bar moved in from her rear and stuck a needle in her neck. She went down. They threw her in a trunk and drove away."

"Details on the car," Mike barked, moving toward the door with ten lethal operatives on his six.

"She's an undercover cop, right?" the man asked instead of giving Mike the information he wanted. "I mean, I would have called the local blue, but I didn't want to screw up anything you had going on."

Mike knew the only way to get the man back on track was to give him affirmation. "Yeah. She's undercover. Now what kind of car is it?"

"A white Chevy Malibu." Wendel told him the license plate number.

"Thanks, Wendel," Mike remembered to say as he pushed out the door. "You did good." He went to hang up when Wendel's voice stopped him.

"I also have the fourth guy still at the bar. My friends are making sure he doesn't leave. Should I call the locals on him?"

"Hell, no," Mike barked. "I'll send some of my team to pick him up. Cisco?" he turned and looked at his friend.

"Whatever it is, you've got it," Cisco replied.

Mike nodded his thanks. "Wendel, watch for squad leader Cisco Andera."

"Will do."

Mike disconnected this time. He'd wasted enough time talking with the bartender. He had his woman to rescue.

"Sitrep," Mason growled, immediately coming up beside him as they got to the parking lot.

Mike stopped for a second.

Right.

He needed to fill the team in. Where was his head? Cisco didn't even know where to go. "Joe was taken from the Local Moose where she works, by three men. I have names. We all know them from the shit they've pulled in all our jurisdictions: Benji Havastill, Chuck Banito, and Anthony Galici."

There was a hiss from his team as he said the last name, because as bad as Benji and Chuck were, Anthony was a total piece of shit.

"Wait. Joe? So that's her real name?" Mason asked astutely after digesting what Mike had said.

Mike wasn't about to prevaricate. Joe's cover be damned. "Yeah. And she's undercover DEA," Mike revealed. "She's been working a drug ring the three perps are involved in that deals in xylazine-cut-fentanyl."

"And you know this because…?" Mason left hanging.

"Because, if you remember what she told us at the quarries, her asshole boss wasn't giving her the backup she needed, so she decided to fill me in on as many details as possible just in case she needed manpower behind her."

"Which she does right now," Talia stated from somewhere to his right. "So what do you have for us?"

Shit.Mike needed to focus. His only thought had been to get on the road and start scouring for a white Chevy. But he knew that was crap. They didn't even know which direction the assholes took.

Mike shuddered in a deep breath and faced the people he trusted most to help.

"She was drugged, and dumped into the trunk of a white Chevy Malibu." He rattled off the plate number, his brain starting to function again. "The bartender saw it all, and had the wherewithal to not only call me, but to detain a fourth man who'd been sitting with the group." He only had the identity of three, but he hoped whoever they'd left behind at the bar would have valuable intel to share.

"I'm on him." Cisco turned to the group. "Sandrine. Talia. You're with me."

The trio boogied across the lot and jumped into his truck, tires squealing as they peeled out, headed to the Local Moose.

"What else." Mason urged Mike to concentrate.

"I—" Was there any more to share?

Fuck, yes there was.

"Joelle gave me the description of a warehouse somewhere west of here where the group's xylazine is synthesized. And…" His breathing sped up as he extracted his phone once again, and stabbed at it with his index finger. "…she gave me access to an app. It tracks the vehicles she's tagged. One of whom is Mel, the other being Benji."

He brought up the screen, and?—

"What the fuck?"

There were three blips on the map.

"I'm getting three signals. Two are static at the bar. One is marked killer, which has to be Mel. One is called semi. That's the tractor she tagged. But the final vehicle… It's on the move. West. It has to be the car she's in, doesn't it?" He turned his hopeful gaze to Mason.

"Sounds like it to me. Where do you think it's headed?"

"Maybe toward the warehouse Joe told me about?" Mike speculated. "I don't have an exact location for that piece-of-shit place, but…" His fingers were on the move again. "She installed cameras." Mike brought up that app, and video of the rusty structure came on-line. He turned his phone to the group. "Anybody recognize this place?"

Amos didn't hesitate. "Yup. It's remote. Off Old Bay Path. I've done some tracking near there."

"That's got to be where they're taking her," Briar interjected. "Unless they have a shack or something in the same direction where they might be staying."

Mason immediately shook his head, looking to be on sure footing. "Benji and his wife live in town, and we'll check if they own anything in the boonies, but I doubt it. Galici lives southeast of here in a big-ass house in Ellesworth. He's into enjoying the high life, so there's no way he'd hole-up in a cabin."

"What about Banito?" Welker asked.

"Questionable. He lives in Orono, and he's always short on cash because he gambles, but it's possible he might own a piece-of-shit property."

"I'll call Opal and get her on all three," Alvero said.

Opal was one of the team's techies, and she'd hack whatever databases she needed to find out if any of the men owned real estate outside of their known residences, and dig into anything else about them that might be pertinent.

"I'm going to the warehouse," Mike growled, watching the dot move steadily westward on the map.

"We're all going to the warehouse," Mason corrected, also bringing up a map and looking at his phone. After a moment, he turned to his team leaders. "Call in your squads. Everyone will meet up a mile east of the warehouse, here." He stabbed his finger at a point on the map, then shared it to everyone with a few clicks. "We'll go in on foot from there."

Mike nodded, then turned to walk away.

"Where do you think you're going?" Mason barked after him.

"To get my woman." Mike didn't hesitate to verbally claim Joelle. As far as he was concerned, they belonged to each other, and the sooner his team knew that, the better.

"We know she's yours." Mason softened his voice. "What I meant is, you're in no condition to drive."

Mike looked down at his hands and saw they were shaking.

"See?" Mason said knowingly. "Now get your ass in my truck, and that's an order."

Mike didn't argue. He was glad for Mason's decisiveness and intervention. His brain was feeling uncustomarily scattered. He'd have to give himself a harsh talking to so he was in full SWAT-mode by the time the squads were in position.

As he followed the chief to his vehicle, Mike couldn't help but stiffen up over what Joe's condition might be. He wondered if she'd suffered a concussion from her head being slammed into metal. He thought about… Fuck. Was she still alive? Was the shot she'd been given, lethal?

Mike shivered over that possibility, but dismissed it from his mind immediately. It wouldn't help to get mired in the negative. As far as he and everyone else were concerned, this was a rescue, not a recovery mission.

Mike hopped into Mason's truck, fastened his seatbelt, and glued his gaze to the split screen he had on his phone. One eye was on the continuously moving dot, the other on the infrared cameras.

"Have they stopped yet?" Mason asked.

"Not yet," Mike growled, but there was good news. The vehicle seemed to be heading directly toward Old Bay Road, which would mean their supposition was good that it was the location to where they were taking Joelle.

Mase continued to drive at a high rate of speed for several miles.

"So. DEA, huh?" The boss eventually posed into the quiet of the cab.

"That's right," Mike grunted.

"Huh. I had her pegged for FBI, but I can see it."

Mike huffed. "You know, you don't have to make small talk to try and center me. I'm getting there. By the time we're boots on the ground, I'll be good to go."

"I know you will," Mason assured him. "I just… I guess I was a little surprised that you've claimed Joe as yours so soon. Does she know?"

Mike grunted. "She knows I want to explore things long-term with her. But she might think the attraction is just friendly and physical right now. There is that, but there's also so much more. I haven't told her yet, because I'm a fucking idiot. But…I love her. I want her in my life, permanently, and I plan to remedy my oversight just as soon as I have her in my arms again."

"Smart man," Mason nodded. "You know how long it took for me to admit my feeling to Everlee."

"Too long," Mike snorted. "But look what you have now. I… I want that for me and Joe," Mike admitted.

"You'll have it," Mason assured him. "I've seen how she looks at you."

"Right. I've seen it, too. But I'm hoping it's not just because I'm here and available."

Now it was Mason's turn to snort. "Available? You couldn't have appeared more unavailable if you'd hung a sign around your neck that said ‘Back off. Grizzly in season'."

"That bad, huh?" Mike asked with a rumble.

"Yup. You've been a bear for the past year, and now, at least, we know why. I wish you'd come and told me when Mellie first left you," Mase lightly scolded.

Mike shook his head regretfully "I felt like an idiot. I couldn't believe I'd missed all the signs that she was unhappy."

Mason gave him an easy pass. "You had a lot on your plate at that juncture. Your day job. A new SWAT team. Night-time ops. Weekend drills. Your kids' sports…" he trailed off. "You thought Mel was onboard and okay with all that."

Mike turned in his seat and looked over at his boss and friend, seriously. "Do me a favor, Mase?"

"Anything," the chief said without hesitation.

"If I start acting like my head's up my ass with Joe, will you tell me?"

Mason grinned. "I'd like nothing more. But I have a feeling Kyle, Doug, Cisco, and Welker will beat me to it."

Mike grunted. "You're probably right."

They drove for a while longer, and?—

"They've stopped," Mike said excitedly. He switched his eyes to the camera feeds. "And there the bastards are, now," he growled. "The Chevy is parked in front of the warehouse." He paused for a second. "The overhead doors are rolling up. They're in." He clenched his jaw until he thought it might crack. "Now they have her inside…"

"Don't go there, Mike," Mason warned. "We're two minutes from our rendezvous point. We'll get to her before they can do anything."

Mike wasn't necessarily a praying man, but he prayed with all his might that Mason was right.