Clint POV
I woke up ten seconds before my alarm clock started beeping. Rolling over and out of bed, I was ready to face the day. Today was another 'training' day, wonder what the core team had planned for me. Only one way to find out, I thought to myself as I drug my heels toward the shower.
Ten minutes later, I was showered, dressed, and ready to hit the gym for a needed morning workout. I grabbed a granola bar for breakfast on my way out my apartment door. I walked next door to my brother Jase's apartment and pounded on the door, he should be up and ready by now.
He jerked the door open after thirty seconds of my pounding with a grouchy look on his face, funnily enough it matched mine exactly. We were both bears before we had our morning coffee. He voiced his complaints to me grumpily.
"Must you be such a pain in the ass this early? You know what, never mind … don't answer that. Coffee?"
I grunted my approval, then he locked up before we went up to the break room on the fifth floor in search of our caffeine fix.
The break room was gratefully quiet, which meant we would not encounter any of the other guys; and subsequently bite their heads off, unintentionally of course.
We both made sure to drink down at least our first full cup before attempting to converse with each other again. Once we had that initial dose of java goodness in our system, only then did I speak to Jase once more.
"Better?" I inquired.
"Much," he responded around heavy sigh of contentment.
"So, ready to face the day now?"
"Absolutely, let's go. My muscles are eager to be stretched," he grinned.
I nodded my agreement, then we finished up the last of our second cups of coffee, placing the dirty mugs in the sink on our way back out the door.
When we reached the gym, it was understandably active. This was the standard workout time for most of the guys, so it was quite busy.
"Spot me while I do some presses?" I asked Jase.
"Sure. Did you get some new gloves?" He responded while trying unsuccessfully to control his snickering.
"Screw you Jase! I'm still gonna get that prick back for that little stunt. Not to mention the unwanted hair removal from last week," I grumbled, then informed my brother of my change of plans. "Now I want to spar, and you little brother just volunteered."
For the next twenty minutes or so we basically tried to kick each others' ass, meanwhile drawing quite the crowd of spectators. Some of them brave enough to do a running commentary. My favorite one, I still don't know who uttered it, was, "That has got to be the weirdest thing I have ever seen. It's like watching two Ram's go at it, but there's no mirror. I keep looking out for glass to come flying out of the ring towards us."
We pelted each other with fists and feet for another five minutes or so, before calling it quits. I ended up with a sore jaw and bruised hip, while Jase left the ring with a busted lip and an aching back due to my endless kidney shots; told you I was a sneaky little shit.
After a fast shower, it was time to head upstairs for the morning meeting.
Filing into the conference room with the rest of the guys, Jase and I took our regular seats beside each other and waited for Tank to show up to start the meeting. The quiet hum of noise died down immediately when Tank entered the room a couple of minutes later.
"At ease," he began. "Let's get started." He passed out three files to everyone. One held the daily reports from the previous day, the next was our daily assignments; the last was a skip file. Since we knew he would cover the departmental reports first, we set aside the skip file.
Once all the departments had given their updates, Tank addressed the skip file we had been given. "Bradley Hoffman, wanted for embezzlement from his partners at his law firm. White collar, not known to be violent, didn't resist arrest either. Should be a cake walk. Santos and Vince, you two handle it. Barton, this will be your training for skip tracing, you're with them. Any questions?"
"Why were we given this file? Vinnie usually only gives us high bond or dangerous skips?" Vince astutely questioned.
"He's not a low bond. He stole over $4.8 million, our share of which is $1.3," Tank informed everyone, then added. "Anything else?"
He received negative responses all around, so after a terse, "Dismissed", we all went our separate ways.
"Hang on Barton," Les started. "Before we actually go after Hoffman we have to do a little research. Vince and I will walk you through the search programs and together we'll decide when the best time is to go after him."
"Okay," I agreed.
Les led us to his office where his computer was already booted up and waiting for us. Vince and I stood on each side, and slightly behind him once he took a seat in his executive style leather desk chair.
"This is our basic search program," Les began to teach. "It's more sophisticated than your average search engine, meaning we will get hits for several types of information; anything from work history, credit ratings, criminal backgrounds, property holdings, DMV records, and even all online activity, including social media networks. All you have to do is type the person's name in," he typed in our skips name at this point. "Then the information starts to pour in."
It took several minutes but by the end of our search we had over four pages of data on the skip. We took a few more minutes to look all of it over and discuss our options.
From his credit card activity we could tell he had no regular bar or club charges. The only habitual charges going to his card were for groceries and gas, both once a week. So we had nothing to go on from that angle.
We were just about to dig into the info again when Les' desk phone rang. "Yeah. Yes we are. Okay put her through Binkie," he spoke into the receiver before pressing the speaker button and cradling the handset. Then he resumed talking. "This is Lester Santos, head of the skip department. How can I help you?"
"Yes, hello. My name is Amber. Are you the ones looking for Brad Hoffman?" A timid female voice came from the other end of the line.
"Yes we are, why do you ask?" Les replied.
"Well he's been hiding out at a buddy of his place over on Crestview Drive, 1088 to be exact. I know he'll be there later this evening, they're planning a poker game tonight," she finished.
"Is that correct? And why are you so willing to help us ma'am?"
"Of course it's true," she huffed out. "I know it is. You see I used to be his mistress. He told me he was stealing all of that money from his partners so he could leave his wife and run away with me. But that was all a pack of lies and now I want him to pay for hurting me. So go get him gentlemen," she closed with a slight giggle.
Les gave her a heart felt "Thank you ma'am" before disconnecting the line.
"Well, now we know where he'll be this evening," Vince stated.
"Yea," Les laughed. "She was all to eager to help hand him over to us, wasn't she?"
"You know what they say about a woman scorned," I contributed.
I got grunts and nods of agreement in response, then Les sighed. "Let's get a plan of action ready to take him down."
So for the next hour, we did just that. By the time we were done, we were confident in our strategy. All we had to do now was wait a few more hours until the time we knew he would be at the residence.
Later that evening …
The three of us met in the garage a few hours later. Now that we had a plan in place, we were raring to go get this guy off of the streets. We had decided to go for a tamer look tonight, only carrying two weapons; our side arms in full sight and ankle weapons. We also opted to not wear Kevlar vests, seeing as we were after an embezzler and not someone known to be violent.
Vince looked stoic, like he was using some sort of yoga training to keep his excitement hidden; Les had no such qualms about letting his exuberance shine. Me on the other hand, I was a master at schooling my features so no one could tell what was going through my mind. It was essential in my line of work; spy remember.
A standard Rangeman SUV was the vehicle of choice with Vince at the helm. Les was buckled into the front passenger seat reminding Vince where to go. We were hoping that the party wasn't completely under way just yet; wanting to nab him with a minimum of witnesses who would no doubt turn out to be his allies. We could handle up to six easily, but didn't want the hassle of extra paperwork if someone besides our skip ended up getting injured.
The house was quiet when we pulled up and parked a few doors down the street. There were only two cars parked in the driveway, so it appeared that we had arrived early enough.
We exited the SUV and started making our way up the sidewalk towards the house. There was no noise coming from inside, further informing us that there could not be a full blown game started yet.
Les took the lead, standing directly in front of the door, with Vince and I flanking him on either side, but slightly behind him. He knocked loudly on the door while announcing, "Bond Enforcement, open up".
The door opened up partially several seconds later by a slightly stocky man who was obviously not our skip. "Yea, what do you want?"
"We need to speak to Bradley Hoffman," Les replied while making sure his size fifteen boot was blocking the door from closing.
"He ain't here. Come back later," the guy told us, as he tried to force the door closed around Les' boot.
"Hey Sam, who's at the door?" Our skip yelled from behind his buddy, then he appeared beside him, taking us in. "Who's this?" He asked.
"Bradley Hoffman?" Les spoke again, while shoving the door completely open so we all could enter. The skip nodded nervously, but I saw his eyes daring around the room looking for a way out.
"We represent you bail bondsman. You missed your court date. You need to come with us to the police station to get your court date rescheduled," Vince explained.
Les had escorted Hoffman's friend a few feet away to keep him occupied while we took care of the skip. Vince had grabbed the skips left hand and while I was reaching for my cuffs from my back I heard Les' shout of "Knife!" a split second before I felt a piercing burn in my side.
My knees buckled and my hand immediately went to my injured side clutching it. I looked up from my crouched position to watch the scene unfold before me.
Les quickly cuffed the friend before darting over to help Vince with the skip. Vince had already kicked the knife out of Hoffman's hand and had him securely cuffed by the time Les got to him. The skip was lying on his stomach on the floor cussing up a storm.
"Shut the fuck up," Les screamed just as he kicked the skip in his side, knocking the breath out of him. "That's for stabbing my friend asshole!"
At this point I decided it was just easier for me to lie down now. I felt sick. Vince was by my side in an instant. He reached down to pull my hand from my side. "Let me see it man." I noticed him grimace then put his phone up to his ear. "Yo, we need you here man. No it's Barton, skip stabbed him in the side. I don't know man, I can't tell."
"How's it look man?" Les asked Vince.
"I don't know, but I just got off the phone with Brown, he's on his way."
"I already called 911, they're on their way too," Les added.
"Oh fuck, Ram is gonna kill us!" Vince fretted, and that was the last thing I heard before the darkness took over.
Ram POV
I was sitting at my desk working on scheduling a few of the guys for weapon proficiency testing when Bobby came running up. He paused beside me to catch his breath, then gasped out, "Clint's been stabbed. Come on."
"What..." was all I was able to squeak out before we were both running full tilt down the stairs to the garage and diving into his truck.
"I'll explain on the way," Bobby said as he started the vehicle. Then he flew out of the underground garage and onto the street. I kept quiet while fastening my seat belt. Only a true emergency would have Brown driving like this. I swallowed a lump in my throat, this couldn't be good.
"What is it man, you're scaring me," I was finally able to manage.
"The skip take down that Les, Vince, and Clint went on. The skip stabbed Clint. That's all I know so far, Vince said he couldn't tell how bad it was."
"Wait, that skip they went after was wanted for embezzlement. He wasn't known to be violent," my voice sounded worried, which was understandable.
"He wasn't, but you know not to assume anything when it comes to skips," Bobby finished as we pulled up to the skip's house.
There was already an ambulance there with lights flashing. I dashed out of the truck and through the open front door to see two EMTs leaning over my twin's prone form. One of the medics was holding a blood soaked gauze to Clint's side while the other was securing an IV into his hand.
Bobby rushed over to see if he could be of any help. I was glued to the spot. I couldn't make my feet move. Seeing my twin lying there bleeding, I was scared stiff. I just got him, I didn't want to lose him; not yet, not now, it's too soon.
Bobby and the other medics lifted Clint onto a rolling stretcher, then began moving him towards the door. I snapped out of my funk long enough to insist that I was riding with him. I heard Vince call out, "I'm sorry man."
I turned and glared at him, growling out, "Not now!"
I was not in the mood to hear their excuses, my brother was more important right now. So I climbed up into the back of the ambulance for the ride to the hospital. I reached for Clint's hand, the one without the IV, and gently held it for the entire ride to the ER.
We pulled up two fast minutes later and were scurrying through the sliding glass doors that led to the trauma exam rooms. This was where they forced me to separate from my brother. Needless to say, I wasn't happy about that. So I grumbled under my breath as I made my way to the waiting room.
Most of the guys were there waiting on me, looked like the Rangeman grape vine was on full alert today. I just held my hand up with a fierce look, warning them off. I wasn't ready to deal with anyone yet.
First I sat in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs for a few minutes, then I got restless and began to pace. The guys were giving me a wide berth, letting me have all the space I needed; guess the 'don't fuck with me' vibe I was throwing out was doing it's job.
Bobby, being the Rangeman medic, was allowed to stay back with Clint. I was relieved by the knowledge that he would make sure my twin got the best of care. When Bobby appeared from the other side of the double doors just minutes later, I wasted no time getting to get to his side.
"How is he? How bad is it? Is he going to be okay?" I peppered him with panicked questions.
"Calm down, he's going to fine. The knife missed any major organs. There was a small nick to his lower intestine, but they've taken him to surgery to repair that and close up the wound. He was down a pint and a half of blood, probably from an adrenaline rush. They've replenished that too. You gonna be alright?"
"Yea, how long is the surgery going to take? When will I be able to see him?"
"Less than an hour and he will be ready for visitors. Then another couple of hours and I'll get him released to my care; even though they wanted to keep him over night for observation." Bobby supplied.
"Good, I need some caffeine. I'm going to the cafeteria, I'll be back," I sighed out.
Bobby patted my shoulder on my way out, then turned to relay his story to the rest of our coworkers.
Forty five minutes later I was standing at my brother's bedside, gripping the railing waiting for him to wake up. "Come on ugly, open up those eyes. You've had enough pity for one day, time to get back to work."
"If I'm ugly, then you are too, asshole. You look just like me after all," Clint's voice was rough and scratchy.
Chuckling at his joke, I passed him a cup of water with a straw. "That may be, but you're still uglier than me," I teased back.
"Whatever bro. When am I getting sprung from here? I hate hospitals."
"Brown is working on the paperwork as we speak, so it shouldn't be but another hour or so," I let him know.
"Where are my clothes? I want to be ready."
"I got your duffle right here. Ella just dropped it off a few minutes ago," I told him as I handed him the bag.
While Clint was in the bathroom getting changed I thought to myself, I hope tomorrow is better. I don't think I can take this kind of excitement every day. Little did I know that with my brother, this was just the start of our adventures. ########################