Above Protection (Imperfect Heroes Book 1) (25 page)

I’d quickly typed up a script earlier
today and Derrick had said he’d memorized it. We both watched as he
stood on the docks of the gulf water.

“I got a guy I need you to take out,”
Derrick said, his eyes shifting around as if he was
nervous.

“Ace” was a tall white guy with his
flat-billed hat on sideways. It was red with a fancy white “A”
sewed into the front. Damn Alabama fans. Do they ever not
represent? I laughed to myself that maybe this dumbass had just
bought the hat because it had an A on it.

“Who’s the guy you need taken care
of?” Ace asked.

“Dirty cop –”

Ace’s face became despondent, angry.
“No, man. Fuck that. I don’t off cops.” He turned and walked toward
the parking lot.

“No, wait,” Derrick said. He then
looked toward our car and winked.

Ace didn’t stop. He just kept walking
and shaking his head.

“So you’re not gonna help me?” Derrick
shouted to Ace’s back, his arms in the air.

Ace kept walking and put his middle
finger up behind him. Then he tossed his cigarette into the water
and got on a motorcycle parked on the dock.

Derrick walked slowly away from the
docks and toward us but as soon as Ace had taken off on his bike,
he sprinted toward the Cadillac and hopped into the
backseat.

Over the two-way radio, we heard the
voice of the fourth agent, Medina was his name – he’d been hiding
on his own bike ready to follow the suspect. “He’s heading back
over the bridge toward Tampa.”

Agent Black pushed the button as he
drove and said, “Stay with him. We’re right behind you.”

“Copy that.”

We finally caught up with the two
motorcycles, staying far behind. The suspect veered the
crotch-rocket over the bridge to St. Petersburg Beach and then
turned right down a side street that would eventually lead to a
state park-run beach area.

“We arrest him on federal land, we
really won’t have to deal with the local cops at all,” Derrick said
from the backseat, a smile in his voice.

I observed the brown State Park sign
as we passed it. Ace veered his bike around the yellow striped arm
barring entrance into the beach. Because of the late hour, the
semi-private beach was closed. We were far enough back that the
suspect hadn’t seen us. The agent on the bike, Medina, stopped next
to our car. Agent Black rolled the window down. “Want me to go in
after him?” Medina asked.

I opened the passenger window and spit
a stream of chew onto the sidewalk. “Hold on.”

I lifted the high-powered binoculars
to my eyes and watched Ace’s bike stop near a small brick building.
It was surrounded by wooden picnic tables and showers. I lowered
the binoculars and said, “Let’s go on foot. He’s gone into some
buildings.”

Black pulled the car to the side of
the road and Medina parked his motorcycle behind it. The four of us
began walking quickly on foot until we reached the small, beige
brick building. It was nothing more than a set of public restrooms
and the suspect was nowhere.

“What the fuck?” Black
said.

I looked into the distance and
squinted. “Look. He’s left his bike here and headed on foot to
those homes over there.”

We’d just made a big fucking circle. I
had no idea why this guy had gone through the state park just to
head back to a part of the beach that was littered with what looked
like extravagant personal homes, but he did. Maybe he knew we were
tailing him and decided to try to lose us. Maybe he didn’t want his
bike parked near the home. Either way, we stayed in the shadows as
much as we could, our weapons out, and followed him until we
reached a huge beach house that looked like it had been recently
built.

“Text your IRS and ask him to run the
address on this place,” I said to Black. He nodded and began typing
into his phone and then asked, “What’s the address?”

I used the binoculars to look at the
front of the house. “1150,” I said. “No idea what the street name
is.”

He nodded and pocketed the phone.
“Smith’s on duty tonight. He’ll find it. Uses Google Earth or some
shit to pinpoint stuff. Dude’s a genius.”

“I agree. He helped me today. I liked
him the minute he opened his mouth.” I spit more chew into the sand
under our feet. “And I don’t like a lot of people.”

Derrick chuckled. “I get
that.”

“Fuck you, hood rat.”

He chuckled. “Nah, I get enough pussy,
thank you very much.”

I bit back a smile. Asshole. I liked
him too.

Agent Black put his finger to his lips
for us to be quiet and pointed at the lights burning in the
house.

Derrick, Medina, and I
nodded.

“I’m gonna go look in a window,” Black
said. “I’m the darkest, won’t be seen as easily as you glowing
boys.” He smiled.

“Yes, but your bald-ass head is
reflecting the light from the moon,” I said, pointing at it. I
swear to God, it looked like he polished the fucking thing with
shoe polish and a microfiber cloth.

He flipped us off double fisted and
ran to the back of the house. I watched as he carefully stepped up
the two steps onto the wooden back deck. With stealth, he slowly
peered into the back window. I was silently telling him to duck
down, but he kept looking in. He even turned his head to the side
as if he was confused.

Crap.

He finally ducked back down and
sprinted toward us. He wasn’t even out of breath when he said,
“Shane Fucking Watson is on a bed in there. He don’t look good,
either, all sweaty and pale. Our suspect was next to his bed
pacing. There’s a chick there too. She looks like a street whore
who’s trying to play nurse.”

I grinned and spit the rest of my chew
out. Looking at Derrick, I said, “We don’t need a warrant when we
have reasonable suspicion that a wanted fugitive is inside, do
we?”

“Hell nah,” he replied, putting out
his fist to hit.

Black pulled his phone from his pocket
and looked at it. He smiled and turned the screen toward us. “This
is the house, right?”

I squinted at the picture of the house
on the screen. It was dark out tonight, but the full moon gave me
enough light to be sure. “Yeah, that’s this one for sure.” I
pointed at the massive house in front of us.

“Well it belongs to George
Watson.”

I chuckled ironically. “So Shane’s
holed up in his uncle’s beach house with a crack whore taking care
of him? That’s fuckin’ rich. This’ll be like taking candy from a
baby.”

The other three laughed
quietly.

“Call for backup,” Derrick said. “Then
let’s ambush these assholes. Oh and make sure you call an ambulance
for the idiot.”

We all had our weapons drawn and
ready. “We’ll take the back door. You two take the front door.”
Agent Black looked at Medina and me and pointed to the front of the
house. I nodded and headed toward the front door.

We still had our radios on us. They
were black hand-held walkie-talkie type things. Mine was clipped to
my belt and I reached over and turned the volume down so I wouldn’t
be heard.

Medina and I reached the front door.
As I was about to kick at it, he held up his hand. “Hold on,” he
whispered.

He reached over and tried the knob. It
was one of those fancy ones where you use your thumb to push the
button and the rest of your fingers curl around the ornate handle
underneath. The door opened when pushed on and allowed us
access.

I shook my head at Medina and
whispered, “It would have been more fun to kick it off its
hinges.”

He cut me a sideways smirk. With our
weapons out in front of us, we crossed the fancy foyer as quiet as
ninjas to the back of the house where I wondered how Black and
Derrick were doing. A woman’s scream caught our attention and my
adrenaline kicked into overdrive.

We rushed to the back of the house
where “Ace” was struggling with Agent Black and a white female
dressed like nothing more than a street walker was trying to punch
Derrick.

“You help him.” I pointed at
Derrick.

Medina nodded.

I rushed over and grabbed “Ace” by his
hair and pushed my gun into the back of his head. He
yelped.

“Stop moving, asshole, or I’ll
decorate this room with your brains.” I spit again, this time onto
the floor of the room, because I really didn’t give a
shit.

I turned him toward Shane on the bed
and smiled as he groaned. The guy was completely out of it. Then I
heard sirens in the distance.

With one hand still pushing the gun
into the back of Ace’s head, I pulled my handcuffs from their
holder at the back of my belt. I held them out to Agent Black. He
quickly slapped the cold metal onto Ace and I shoved him down into
a chair in the corner of the room.

Derrick had put cuffs on the female
and sat her on the floor next to Ace. She looked like she’d seen
better days. She had a bruise beginning to blossom on her left
cheek and her lip was split. She looked as though she could use a
shower and some food.

“This guy’s not gonna live much
longer,” Medina said, using his gun to point at Shane, who was
covered in sweat. The bandage around his neck was soaked black with
blood and did not look like it had been changed in quite a
while.

Derrick came down from the staircase
next to the room and said, “The house is clear.”

“You’re a fuckin’ cop?” Ace asked,
glaring at Derrick as if he suddenly recognized him from
earlier.

He smiled back. “Yep. And you were too
easy to catch.”

I addressed Ace. “You risked your
freedom and your life to pull this douchebag out of the hospital?”
I pointed at Shane.

He just stared me down, his blue eyes
and pale face trying to look tough. He had some light colored
stubble around his chin, but his head was shaved bald.

I could hear the sirens getting
closer. I crouched down and got into his face. “Answer
me.”

“Fuck you.” He spit in my
face.

I couldn’t help it, it was automatic.
My fist balled and smashed into his nose before I knew what I was
doing.

“Ow! You broke my nose, you fuck!” Ace
yelled, blood dripping down into his mouth.

Shane groaned on the bed. Medina
looked down at him. “Ambulance is on the way.”

I thought I heard Shane whisper,
“No.”

I spied an adjoining bathroom and went
in there and grabbed a towel. I wiped my face with it, then looked
at Black. “Stand him up.”

He lifted Ace by his arm and handed
the towel to Black, who put it up to Ace’s bloody face and held it
there for him. I searched his pockets and found his wallet, keys,
and a nice, shiny switchblade along with some coins in his front
pocket. I threw them all on a small table except the wallet. I
opened it up and read it out loud.

“Eric James Patten, 1150 Beachwood
Drive, St. Petersburg.” I looked at him in disbelief. “This is your
house?”

He just stared at me, the towel still
pressed against his face by Agent Black.

“Hold this,” Black told me.

I grabbed the towel and held it as
Black pulled out his phone and dialed. “Hey, Smith, run this name
for me.” He gave him Eric’s name and address and waited.

“Oh is that so?” I heard Black say, as
the sirens were so close now, the red and blue lights were
beginning to shine through the windows.

“Thanks, dude.” Black hung
up.

“This scumbag is cousins with Shane,
nephew to George. This house belongs to the Watsons. He’s the kid
of George’s wife’s sister, that’s why the last name is
different.”

“They’re letting me crash here for a
while, I’m between jobs,” Eric/Ace finally spoke, muffled under the
towel. I removed it from his face as the bleeding had stopped. I
didn’t think his nose was broken. I breathed a small sigh of relief
I hoped nobody heard. I didn’t need to catch any more shit at work
for “brutality.”

I shook my head. “Between jobs! Like
what? Murder-For-Hire?”

His eyes went wide. “Hey! That was not
me. That was Shane. He asked me to help him with stuff, but I did
nothing.”

Shane groaned and tried to say
something as he began to try to move, but he was too
weak.

Medina had his arms folded across his
massive chest. “It’s called being an Accessory,
dumbass.”

“Fuck you,” Eric said, glaring at
Medina.

“Real wide vocabulary you have there,”
Agent Black laughed.

Eric went to open his mouth again and
Black held up his hand. “Let me guess. Fuck you?”

We all snickered a little when we
heard the front door open.

“Police!” a male voice
shouted.

“FBI,” I shouted back. “We’re in the
back room.” I looked at the other three. “Holster up and get your
IDs out.”

They obeyed as St. Petersburg PD came
through, along with paramedics holding a stretcher. We showed them
ID.