18. Fast and Steady

18 FAST AND STEADY

Koen

There were times when I hated the law. Despised it, actually.

“Your Honor, we have video of Mrs. Banks being taken against her will by Brian Sweets, a known associate of Victor Macha.”

That was Riley. Arguing our case to some judge who was in his pajamas, so we could get a search warrant. We knew Jade was somewhere on this asshole’s property, yet we were being held up by things like probable cause. It was bullshit and he had about five more seconds to convince this man before the law could fuck right off.

“We also have proof the car Sweets used in the commission of the crime is currently parked in the driveway of said property.”

Lies. We assumed the car was there based on the location marker of the AirTag, which––come to find out––was not considered credible evidence in the great state of California, since it wasn’t government issued.

We left Jett with Willow and my mom back at the hospital. They were all on the verge of losing their minds. It was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do. My only saving grace was knowing they’d protect Jett, both physically and emotionally, until I brought his sister home. And I would bring her home.

“You’ve got your warrant, Captain.”

Thank fuck.

“You still with me, Koen?”

We were back in the SFPD issued SUV, racing down the highway with lights and sirens blaring. I’d lost minutes being stuck in my head. Minutes I didn’t have to lose. Minutes where Jade remained in the hands of a dangerous criminal.

Focus, Banks.

“Where else would I be, Riley?”

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

I ground my molars together, reminding myself I’d ask the same question if our roles were reversed. Still, it stung. The fact he was breaking about seven thousand different rules by allowing me to participate in the raid didn’t go unnoticed. I just didn’t give a fuck.

“Try to stop me and see what happens.”

It was dark outside, almost ten at night. Macha’s compound was situated on fifty acres of heavily wooded property along the San Andreas Lake. We’d studied the maps before we rolled out. We’d chosen a point of entry a mile to the south of the main residence, a large Colonial-style house situated on the outer edge of the acreage. Between Riley’s initial team and the six additional officers he called in, the plan was to simultaneously hit both the house and the large outbuilding behind it hard and fast, hopefully taking Macha by surprise.

“Settle, Brother. Just checking your pulse. ”

“It’s fast and steady.”

“Last question––and try not to bite my head off this time.” He flipped his blinker on, exiting the highway at a high rate of speed. “Do you really think having Jett on comms is the right thing to do?”

Did I? It probably wasn’t the best call I’d ever made, but in my defense, I wasn’t exactly thinking rationally at the time. I’d handed him the earpiece on the off chance we needed his skills to assist with zeroing in on Jade’s location. He was the only one I trusted, besides my brother. Plus, I’d given him a lifeline to his sister. Was that so wrong? Possibly, but I’d deal with hindsight later. Much, much later.

“It’s done.”

“Five minutes out.”

The voice of the other team leader crackled through my ear. Pulling the Glock from my hip––grateful for my ability to carry on the plane––I racked the slide, dropping a bullet into the chamber. There was a second weapon strapped to my right ankle, courtesy of Riley, and three extra magazines of bullets at the ready on my borrowed Kevlar vest. I was as ready as possible, given the circumstances, still I felt numb.

“You need to brace, Koen. He’s had her for almost four hours.”

“I’m well aware, but you don’t know my wife. Jade has fought her whole life, for herself and for her brother. There’s no scenario where she would ever give up.”

With the red-and-blue lights on the roof switched off, visibility was next to nothing. It only got worse as the smooth asphalt gave way to dirt-covered roads, kicking up clouds of dust behind the two vehicles in front of us. Through it all, Riley never took his foot off the gas. Eventually, brake lights broke through the haze, indicating we’d arrived at our destination .

After we exited the vehicles and a quick briefing, fourteen of us moved with deadly precision through the woods, guns pointed in front of us. The occasional rustling of leaves on the trees and our steady breaths were the only sounds penetrating the thick air.

Suddenly, Riley stopped in his tracks, holding a fist high in the air. As if we’d practiced it a thousand times, our group split. Half to the left, the other half to the right. Moving as one, our team approached the south side of the residence.

“Red’s hot.” Riley spoke through the comms, indicating we were in position.

“Blue’s icy, Cap,” followed seconds later.

“Move out.”

We emerged from the canopy of the trees lightning fast, moving across the fifty feet of manicured lawn which separated us from the front door in seconds. Two officers pushed to the front. They yelled, “San Francisco PD. Search warrant,” then hit the large wooden door with a battering ram once…twice, before it broke loose from its hinges.

Macha didn’t even try to run. He sat on his sofa with his arms spread out along the back, looking way too relaxed for a dead man. The same couldn’t be said for his cronies. They panicked the second we stormed in. Thankfully, none of them were stupid enough to fire a shot. Both teams swept through the buildings, but even before the last officer said, “Clear,” I knew they hadn’t found her. That’s when I threw the rule book and potentially my career out the window.

I moved without regret, only stopping when my Glock was pressed firmly between Macha’s eyes.

“Where’s. My. Wife?” I growled.