Guardian. Terri Reed
The daylight broke over the horizon of the Los Angeles industrial district and muted morning light slashed through the high windows of the large two-floor warehouse. FBI agent Leo Gallagher pressed his back to the wall inside the cavernous structure’s south entrance. The air was cool, but heavy with a mix of anticipation and vigilance.
His heart rate increased, not much, but enough that he took a calming breath. He tightened his hold on the leash of his canine partner, a chocolate Labrador named True.
The open floor plan of the bottom level was filled with containers and pallets that provided too many hiding places. That could be a problem. Shadows lurked above and in the recesses of the corners. No one said this job was easy. Far from it, and sweat beaded on his forehead behind his helmet.
Almost time? Leo glanced at fellow FBI agent Jake Morrow and his canine, a Belgian Malinois named Buddy.
Behind his tactical face guard, Jake nodded and signaled for Leo and True to proceed into the murky depths of the purported hideout of the notorious Dupree syndicate, the criminal organization that the elite FBI Tactical K-9 Unit had been working around the clock to bring down for months.
But every time the team got close, the crime boss, Reginald Dupree, and his uncle and second in command, Angus, managed to escape.
Not going to happen again. The first time could have been coincidence, but after the second and third instances, he knew something else was going on. That was why Leo’s boss had been tight-lipped about this raid. No one outside the tight circle of the team knew of today’s operation in case there was a leak somewhere in the Bureau.
The Tactical K-9 Unit was a special, classified branch of the FBI that had settled in a nondescript building in downtown Billings, Montana. The secret nature of the team’s cases needed anonymity to function. They worked across the country, under the radar, to solve tough crimes and deliver swift justice.
The thought of someone they knew and trusted double-crossing them burned, and Leo hoped that wasn’t the case, but lives were at stake, either way. He took a silent step. True stayed at his side.
Eerie silence scraped along Leo’s nerves. The anonymous tip they’d received, sending the team to this location, had guaranteed them that Reginald and Angus would be here. Plums ripe for the taking.
Across the expanse of open space, Leo saw fellow team member Harper Prentiss, along with Star, her German shepherd, and their boss, special agent in charge Max West and his canine, a boxer by the name of Opal, slip through another door and climb a staircase to the second floor.
A strange itch at the back of Leo’s neck had him tensing. He’d been in this situation many times before, but this didn’t feel right.
Glancing upward at the second-story balcony that rimmed the edges of the warehouse, he narrowed his gaze on the office doors. That itch worsened. Were Reginald and Angus Dupree up there? Waiting? Planning an ambush? If so, his team members would be in trouble.
Needing to provide his boss and fellow agent cover, Leo gestured to Jake. Morrow gave him the thumbs-up sign. In tandem they carefully moved farther into the warehouse, not wanting to draw attention to their presence.
True’s ears perked up. The scruff of his neck rose. A deep growl emitted from his throat.
Breath stalling, Leo paused as he scanned the perimeter for whatever threat his partner sensed.
Then total pandemonium broke out.
Four men with automatic weapons appeared from around the sides of the two containers. A barrage of gunfire erupted. The deafening noise bounced off the walls.
Leo’s heart revved into overdrive. Adrenaline surged. His pulse pounded in his ears as he dropped to one knee to return fire.
“Down!” Leo shouted to True. The dog dropped to his belly.
“Take cover!” Jake yelled.
Leo grabbed True’s collar and tugged him behind a large container.
Something metal hit the concrete floor and a hissing filled the air, followed by a cloudy haze. Leo gritted his teeth and fought past the stinging in his eyes and nose from the pepper-infused smoke sneaking beneath the face shield on his helmet.
The sound of a dog’s yelp jolted through Leo. His heart slammed against his ribs. True! He quickly checked the dog’s taut body for injury. None.
It had to be Buddy. Leo searched the gloom for Jake and his dog. He couldn’t see either one. Had they retreated? Was Buddy hurt? Jake?
Leo flattened himself on the ground next to True, then tapped the canine on the flank. Together, they scuttled backward toward the door, keeping their heads down and out of the line of fire. A squad of Los Angeles police officers, dressed in tactical gear, filed past them.
With the arrival of backup, relief flooded through Leo.
Outside, he found Buddy lying on the ground, blood oozing from a wound in his hindquarters. Leo’s stomach dropped. He knelt beside the dog, tore off his glove and used it as a compress against Buddy’s injury. The dog whimpered.
“Where’s Jake?” Leo rasped, wishing the dog could speak.
The whir of rotors close by had him jerking to his feet.
Buddy barked and, in a burst of energy, jumped up and took off, leading Leo and True around another building just as a black helicopter with no markings lifted from the ground. Buddy whined and continued to bark, his agitation clear as he sniffed a puddle of blood near where the helicopter had sat. Jake’s blood?
A vise tightened around Leo’s heart. He shaded his eyes but couldn’t see inside the tinted windows of the bird as it disappeared from view. This wasn’t one of theirs. That meant...
“Gallagher!”
Leo turned to see his boss escorting Reginald Dupree from the warehouse while other officers brought out several of Dupree’s henchmen.
Agent Harper Prentiss jogged over. “Angus Dupree escaped but we got Reginald.” She tilted her head. “You okay?”
“No.” His voice sounded ragged, the way he felt inside. He glanced at Buddy. The dog’s distress tore at Leo. “Jake’s been taken.”
The team had captured the head honcho of the Dupree crime syndicate, but they’d lost a good agent in the process.
Guilt ate through Leo’s gut like acid. He’d failed his team. He’d failed Jake. With fists clenched, Leo vowed he’d track down Angus Dupree and rescue his comrade, if it was the last thing he did on this earth.
“Mommy, where are the fishies?”
“Hey, be careful, buddy. Don’t slip off the rock.” Heart lurching, Alicia Duncan grabbed her son, Charlie, by the back of his green life vest. If he leaned over any farther, he would go headlong into Wyoming’s Blackthorn River. His fishing pole clattered against the outcropping of smooth rocks, where they’d plopped down to fish. The exact place she’d fished from as a kid and teen. “Hang on to your pole, sweetie.”
Heat bounced off the stones and reflected off the river water from the unseasonably warm April morning sun, making perspiration break out at her nape beneath her long dark hair. It was a beautiful spring day for spending time outdoors with her