wasn’t exactly sure she didn’t—
she’d been drugged, after all
—but even if she did, he wouldn’t tell them. And they knew he wouldn’t, which rendered the whole line of questioning moot and only served to further piss him off. A lot of secrets were coming to light.
The Chief sat down. “We’re not touching it.”
Delmones looked at him. “Whattaya mean?”
Rattan carefully unrolled silverware from a napkin, laid the cloth across his lap. “Let’s get some appetizers while we’re here, I’m starving.” Silence. All eyes were still on him. He directed his words at Delmones. “I mean we leave it alone. Disregard anything that’s discussed here.”
Smith casually eyed the AGPS screen on his phone, saw a red blip blinking on the corner of 2nd and Allums. He tapped it with his index finger to zoom in. Big H’s Fighting Gym, 6602 2nd Street. A sneaky smile crept across his face, morphing into a clamp-lipped stare when Facil addressed him.
“What’re you doing here and how do you know about this?”
Smith’s eyes seemed to bulge at the challenge. The smile remained as he spoke. “Chief Rattan briefed me on your situation some weeks ago, and my office received the first tissue samples from Dr. Harris yesterday. Moving forward, we find it preferable to take a more hands-on approach to this problem.”
Facil didn’t miss a beat. “We’ve been about as hands-on as you can get up to now. What exactly do you plan to do?” Then, to the Chief, “Why wasn’t I told about this?”
Rattan shot back even faster. “I’ll save you the time, Lieutenant, you’re relieved of duty.”
Facil glared at him. “What?”
“You heard me. Your involvement in this operation is over, effective immediately.”
“You’re pulling the plug?”
“No, I’m reassigning you. Scarla has a psychological evaluation scheduled tomorrow morning with Dr. Crane. Pending favorable results, she’ll report to Mr. Smith.”
Smith smiled. The Chief was stone-faced.
Facil kept cool. “No, she won’t. If I come out, she comes out.”
“That’s not an option.”
“Does
she
know that?”
“She will.”
“Then she’ll walk, it’s not what we agreed to.”
Rattan got down to brass tacks. “Let me spell it out for you, Lieutenant. You don’t have to accept reassignment, but if you choose not to, this department certainly appreciates your years of service and accepts your resignation. You can leave your badge and weapon on the table before you go. It’s your call.”
Silence. Delmones watched the table. Facil processed the news. He didn’t look at Smith, knowing he’d see an expression that would drive him over the edge. The Chief waited for a response. Facil cleared his throat. “She won’t work with anyone else, not at this point.”
Smith unwisely interjected. “If that’s the case, there will be consequences.”
Facil glared.
“Such as?”
Smith smugly addressed Rattan. “Well, it’s not as if the woman’s been yielding stellar results. I’m sure the department could employ other whores who’d perform better.” If the conversation had been captioned, it would’ve read,
some guys just need to learn the hard way.
But it wasn’t, so Smith had no forewarning of the line he’d crossed.
Facil laughed. He always had a tendency to smile before unleashing a shit storm. Delmones knew it, and was already wincing when Facil vaulted across the table and grabbed Smith by the lapels, hurling him to the floor. The Chief and Delmones sprang to their feet.
“LeTour!”
Rattan shouted.
Facil grabbed Smith by his necktie, growling in his face. “Is that how you talk in Washington?” He stunned Smith with a hard right, dragged him across the room by his tie. Delmones eyed Rattan, who calmly speed-dialed headquarters.
Smith gagged and kicked his legs, as Facil dragged him down the hallway and threw him through a table in the front room. The hostess stood frozen at her podium. Bar patrons watched, drunkenly
she’d been drugged, after all
—but even if she did, he wouldn’t tell them. And they knew he wouldn’t, which rendered the whole line of questioning moot and only served to further piss him off. A lot of secrets were coming to light.
The Chief sat down. “We’re not touching it.”
Delmones looked at him. “Whattaya mean?”
Rattan carefully unrolled silverware from a napkin, laid the cloth across his lap. “Let’s get some appetizers while we’re here, I’m starving.” Silence. All eyes were still on him. He directed his words at Delmones. “I mean we leave it alone. Disregard anything that’s discussed here.”
Smith casually eyed the AGPS screen on his phone, saw a red blip blinking on the corner of 2nd and Allums. He tapped it with his index finger to zoom in. Big H’s Fighting Gym, 6602 2nd Street. A sneaky smile crept across his face, morphing into a clamp-lipped stare when Facil addressed him.
“What’re you doing here and how do you know about this?”
Smith’s eyes seemed to bulge at the challenge. The smile remained as he spoke. “Chief Rattan briefed me on your situation some weeks ago, and my office received the first tissue samples from Dr. Harris yesterday. Moving forward, we find it preferable to take a more hands-on approach to this problem.”
Facil didn’t miss a beat. “We’ve been about as hands-on as you can get up to now. What exactly do you plan to do?” Then, to the Chief, “Why wasn’t I told about this?”
Rattan shot back even faster. “I’ll save you the time, Lieutenant, you’re relieved of duty.”
Facil glared at him. “What?”
“You heard me. Your involvement in this operation is over, effective immediately.”
“You’re pulling the plug?”
“No, I’m reassigning you. Scarla has a psychological evaluation scheduled tomorrow morning with Dr. Crane. Pending favorable results, she’ll report to Mr. Smith.”
Smith smiled. The Chief was stone-faced.
Facil kept cool. “No, she won’t. If I come out, she comes out.”
“That’s not an option.”
“Does
she
know that?”
“She will.”
“Then she’ll walk, it’s not what we agreed to.”
Rattan got down to brass tacks. “Let me spell it out for you, Lieutenant. You don’t have to accept reassignment, but if you choose not to, this department certainly appreciates your years of service and accepts your resignation. You can leave your badge and weapon on the table before you go. It’s your call.”
Silence. Delmones watched the table. Facil processed the news. He didn’t look at Smith, knowing he’d see an expression that would drive him over the edge. The Chief waited for a response. Facil cleared his throat. “She won’t work with anyone else, not at this point.”
Smith unwisely interjected. “If that’s the case, there will be consequences.”
Facil glared.
“Such as?”
Smith smugly addressed Rattan. “Well, it’s not as if the woman’s been yielding stellar results. I’m sure the department could employ other whores who’d perform better.” If the conversation had been captioned, it would’ve read,
some guys just need to learn the hard way.
But it wasn’t, so Smith had no forewarning of the line he’d crossed.
Facil laughed. He always had a tendency to smile before unleashing a shit storm. Delmones knew it, and was already wincing when Facil vaulted across the table and grabbed Smith by the lapels, hurling him to the floor. The Chief and Delmones sprang to their feet.
“LeTour!”
Rattan shouted.
Facil grabbed Smith by his necktie, growling in his face. “Is that how you talk in Washington?” He stunned Smith with a hard right, dragged him across the room by his tie. Delmones eyed Rattan, who calmly speed-dialed headquarters.
Smith gagged and kicked his legs, as Facil dragged him down the hallway and threw him through a table in the front room. The hostess stood frozen at her podium. Bar patrons watched, drunkenly
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