Like most days on hunts, the next day dawned bright and early and after much too little sleep. Jess and Barnes left early to go talk with the local sales rep and returned with troubling news. The woman, a hot blonde and former exotic dancer, had revealed that the wholesale pharmacist for her area had just doubled his order of oxy, despite Brock having gone on the run just days before. The two being in business together was unlikely given the regulatory agencies. Thus, Jess had concluded that a robbery of those pills was likely forthcoming.

That shipment of oxy was being moved that night, which meant the team had little time to prepare and plan an ambush that would hopefully catch the Forsaken Sons in the act without netting more collateral damage in the process.

As usual, Jess' instincts were spot on.

About 10pm, over half-a-dozen FBI cars, carrying the team and many other agents, pulled onto the grounds of the shipping company to find exactly what they expected to see. The moving truck carrying the Oxy was parked, its back open, the driver and security guard held at gunpoint. 8-10 bikers were moving the drugs from the truck to their own trucks, overseen by the boss himself.

Kenny, Kateri, and Clinton (driving) were all in the same car as they pulled onto the lot and screeched to a halt. She could see flashes of metal—probably guns—reflected in the headlights, as she jumped from the car. Her partner was on the opposite side of the car for the moment, so it was Kenny she joined up with as the FBI advanced on the gang members, guns drawn, shouting "FBI," "Hands up," "Let me see your hands!", "Get down," and all the variations thereof. The overwhelming odds worked in the team's favor, and the bikers, including Rickman the gang leader himself, surrendered without a fight.

One by one, the bikers sank to their knees, those with guns laying them down, lacing their fingers behind their heads.

Kateri could feel her pulse thrumming in her veins as she covered Kenny while he stepped forward to start cuffing suspects. Her own partner was … somewhere nearby, but for the moment she had to keep her focus on the here and now. The dangerous part was almost done, but relaxing before the raid was fully done could end in disaster.

Case-in-point, a few seconds later…

The sound of a revving motorcycle drowned out the voices of the FBI agents, and a motorcycle appeared from further into the complex, speeding around the truck still half-full of crates of oxy.

Barnes, who was carrying a shotgun and not a pistol, gave further proof of why she was known as an excellent markswoman, taking out the motorcycle itself with one shot, after it nearly ran down one of the non-team FBI agents.

Kateri glanced over just long enough to keep situational awareness of the larger scene, while keeping her focus and gun trained on the bikers in front of her. Several of them were close enough that they could tackle her before she could get a shot off if her attention slipped long enough for them to get to their feet. As long as she was on her feet, she could hold her own, at least temporarily, in a fight against most opponents. Once she was downed, the greater weight and strength of the bikers would not tip the odds in her favor.

"Don't move!" yelled Jess, advancing on the downed motorcyclist, "Find Brock!"

Using her cuffs and his, Kenny got two of the gang members cuffed, while the other agents dealt with the rest. The gang members might have been neutralized with only one shot fired and no serious injuries, but the night was not over. The main objective of the raid had been to catch Brock, and there was no sign of him yet.

Once she was no longer needed to cover Kenny, Kateri began to look around for her partner, as the entire group of agents began spreading out to search the surrounding area and hopefully locate Brock. It was dark, and the lack of lighting, except for the dazzling headlights from the cars, made it hard to find Clinton.

One tall, dark-haired male in dark clothing looks about the same as any other in this bloody light.

Come on, Clinton, where are you?

Finally, a minute later, Kateri spotted him when he turned and a beam of light illuminated his face. He was standing by one of the vans, and she jogged over to join him, keeping her head on a swivel as she moved. Automatically, she looked him over for any obvious injuries, and she saw him doing the same as soon as her flash of movement caught his eye. After years together on the job and various injuries suffered by themselves and their teammates, looking over each other periodically had become a force of habit. High on adrenaline, you could simply not notice an injury, as Kateri herself knew.

But we're not going to talk about that … or think about that. For a split second, her side ached in memory.

"Ready?" Clinton asked, as she took up her usual position by his side.

"Ready."

The hunt was, unfortunately, unsuccessful. Clinton, Kateri, and the other agents looking for Brock scoured every inch of the surrounding warehouses and parking lots and found no sign of Brock. After a thorough search, they were forced to admit temporary defeat and return to the others.

"No sign of Brock," Clinton informed Jess, who was standing in front of the row of kneeling Forgotten Sons members.

"Just these knuckleheads," Kenny added sarcastically. "We've gotta put a finger on them, boss."

Kateri gave a snort, as she holstered her gun and wiped her sweaty palms on her pants. Despite the cool of the evening, running around clearing buildings while wearing 10 pounds of body armor was sweat-inducing.

Before Jess could respond, a call came over the comms, "This is Victor-Seven. I have a DB in a vehicle at Sweeney and Glover. Looks like multiple GSWs."

Sweeney and Glover …. That's pretty close to here.

Kateri had studied the map of the area so long that afternoon she could almost see it when she closed her eyes and thought she almost might be able draw the thing freehand … if she had any artistic ability whatsoever ... which she did not.

The whole team trekked over the couple streets over to where a passel full of local cops had gathered around an SUV, its passenger side door still standing open. Barnes and Jess went towards the front, but Kateri stayed with her partner near the rear of the car.

"Door was like this? Open?" Jess asked.

"Yes, sir," one of the cops replied.

Barnes was doing something in the car—what exactly Kateri couldn't see from her angle—and then suddenly said, "9mm. The same caliber Brock uses."

Bloody h**l. More collateral.

All the gang members, including their boss, got hauled off to jail, and Jess and Barnes left to question Rickman, while the others returned to the bus. The usual cadre of cops and other agents that had been frequently at the bus over their stay at Windsor were absent, and all seemed strangely quiet as Clinton and Kenny parked the two cars.

Kateri climbed from the one car, muffling a face-breaking yawn behind one hand. The clock on the dashboard had said it was nearly 11:30pm, and it certainly felt like it was that late.

"I feel that," joked Kenny, noticing her yawn.

Kateri gave a tired half-smile and then looked over at her partner. "Is there anything we're actually supposed to be doing or need to be doing right now?"

Please say no. Please say no. She felt half dead and wanted badly to get some sleep.

Clinton thought for a second as they made their way into the bus. "Not that I know of," he finally replied with a shrug.

"Good," Kateri replied, "then I'm going to sack out until the boss and Barnes get back."

That decision was more than agreeable to all, but unfortunately there were only two beds—one small bunk bed in the back of the bus—as well as the one small, open corner where some of them, usually Kenny, could stretch out for quick cat-naps. With no one else in the van, they could also just stretch out on the floor and use their bags or jackets for pillows.

Just got to always remember to stay far enough away from the door that if someone comes back and doesn't see you immediately, you don't get stepped on.

Straws were drawn to see who got the beds and who got the floor. Kateri and Kenny were the lucky ones.

I know Kenny's tired when he doesn't make any jokes about Clinton pulling rank … or the age card … to get a bed and not the floor.

Not that Clinton would actually do that.

It makes for a good joke, though.

"Top or bottom?" asked Kenny, as the two headed for the back of the bus.

"I'm smaller. I'll take the top," Kateri replied. She'd seen Kenny try to fold himself up to get into the top bunk before. It had been horrific to watch, and he'd banged his head multiple times in a few hours' time. There had been much swearing involved that night.

"Have I ever told you I loved you?" joked Kenny half-heartedly, shucking off his boots.

Kateri had already shucked off her own boots and placed them against the wall out of the way and was scrambling up the ladder. "Probably not since the last time I fed you."

There was a single guffaw and a "sleep well," and then all was silent, except for the soft noises of Hana and Clinton settling down outside the curtain that cordoned off the two small beds.

Having learned how to sleep whenever and wherever was possible, Kateri was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.