Heather crouched low, waiting for the order to go. This was the part that
required nerves of steel. Going in was such organized chaos that you were
too busy to realize what you were really doing. The waiting was the hard
part. A thousand scenarios ran through her mind with all of the different
possibilities. Anything could happen on a bust. That was just the nature
of the business. All the planning in the world could be thrown out of
whack by a single unexpected detail. Most twenty-three year olds weren't
required to have nerves of steel. She wasn't most. And this was becoming
what she lived for.
She was assigned to the roof, so that when the other agents went in, anyone that was flushed up, thinking they could jump to the roof of the next building and escape that way would run into her and Agent Baker. The agent heading up the operation was a little worried that there were only going to be two agents up there, and although it wasn't said, one of the agents was a woman, there simply weren't enough to spare. Heather wasn't worried, but she could hardly tell them why.
The bust itself was a joint venture between the DEA and FBI. It was the culmination of an undercover operation that had lasted nearly two years. Not easy, but this was going to be big. Huge, in fact. The field agents hadn't thought they were going to get to be involved considering all of the national agents that had shown up, but there was a request for a few field agents by name, and Special Agent Heather Raleigh, FBI, was at the top of the list. She was young, but she had already made a name for herself in how she handled suspects. Size might intimidate some female agents, but she never flinched.
The roof had a couple of air conditioner units about fifteen feet from the only door to the roof, and Heather and Baker were each crouched behind one, waiting for the bust to begin. There was supposed to be crack and heroin in there with a street value of over three million dollars, plus guns and cash. This was big. This was just what her application to the Hostage Rescue Team needed. It was a little late for that, but there was next year.
"Alpha team, go!" Agent Brenner's voice came over their earpieces. "Bravo, cover the secondary. Charlie, be ready!"
Heather caught Baker's eye and they both pulled out their guns at once. Baker was DEA, but she wasn't holding that against him. He was a tough agent from what she had seen, and if he couldn't handle himself, he certainly wouldn't have this assignment. Both of them were mentally counting out seconds, knowing how every inch of the bust was going to be going. They had planned and rehearsed it so many times; Heather had caught herself dreaming about it.
A minute later the door to the roof exploded open, a suspect flying through, but facing backwards. Both agents leapt out from their hiding places, Heather's reflexes letting her get out just a bit faster.
"FBI!" she yelled firmly, ignoring Baker's slight grimace. He'd wanted to announce 'DEA' first. "Hands in the air now!" she added.
The suspect whipped around, the sight making both agents gasp. He had a gun to the head of a young girl. She seemed to be about ten years old and was most definitely terrified. Heather mentally cursed. The place was supposed to have been checked for civilians. Maybe she was a dealer's kid or sister or something like that.
"Let the girl go and drop your weapon!" Baker shouted. He was concentrating on the suspect so much; he didn't notice how his partner's eyes half closed, the lids blinking together rapidly.
If the agents had appeared stunned to see the suspect burst through the door with a hostage, it was nothing compared to the look of utter shock on his face when his arm suddenly jerked back and up, effectively pointing the gun into the empty air above them. Neither agent wasted a second. Baker grabbed the suspect, taking him to the ground hard as Heather grabbed the girl, whipping her around, and both of them hitting the concrete, Heather's body protecting the child's. Heather had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. She had learned how to use her abilities more effectively in the last several years, and simply making an arm lift wasn't hard at all to do. Much easier than pulling a gun from someone's hands in fact, and it didn't cause a headache.
Heather looked up in time to see two more suspects explode from the rooftop door. They fired several shots down the stairs, and turned, running hard, and firing a few more wild shots behind them. Heather ducked back low again, a bullet chipping the bricks slightly to her right. That was too damn close! She glanced back at Baker.
"Giving chase!" she shouted, and took off at a dead run after them. She couldn't run all out; hell she'd pass the suspects if she did that, but she could move fast, and when they jumped to the next rooftop, there was no problem in her following them easily.
"Charlie One," she heard Baker say into the communications system, "one suspect in custody, Charlie Two is giving rooftop chase to two more. We have a rescued hostage up here." Heather caught the slightly smug tone. He knew the suspects were going to jump to the next rooftop. There was no way Heather would be able to follow, and he wasn't going to leave this suspect with the child, even with him in handcuffs. Alpha and Bravo were going to have to get them, not her. He didn't know anything.
She hit the ledge of the building, pushing off of the concrete and clearing to the next building easily. The suspects were already halfway across the roof. Damn it, what the hell was Alpha and Bravo doing down there to let three suspects get away? Oh well. Gave her a little something to play with. She let herself take off at a full run, catching up to the slower of the two suspects before he could notice that she was on the roof with him.
One hand reached out, and grabbed him by the neck, shoving him hard, and flinging him to the ground like a rag doll. His gun went skidding across the rooftop, and Heather was on him in a fraction of a second, grabbing his wrist to flip him over. He grabbed at her, trying to pull her down to the concrete. No way a woman would be able to get back up after he pounded on her a few times. He caught her arm and jerked hard, expecting to toss her over him easily. He might not be a big guy, but he could bench two hundred pounds easily, and she wasn't nearly that big.
He got her to move, but it wasn't like he thought it would be. Her arm twisted in his, and suddenly she was holding onto his right arm, yanking him up as she did some sort of flip over him. They were suddenly both on their feet, and before he could even think, her booted foot came up and kicked him hard in the ribs, knocking the wind out of him, and then slamming again in his head. He dropped back to the ground, not quite unconscious, but enough of the fight had gone out of him.
Heather got him on his stomach easily, and handcuffed him, taking the extra second to cuff his ankles together as well. With nobody able to see what she was doing, her hands moved at almost inhuman speeds, and then she was back to her feet again, going after the last suspect, and relaying her position and where the suspect she had in handcuffs was to base command. She loved the disbelief in the operator's voice as he echoed her information. It was great to be underestimated sometimes.
She raced across the next roof, jumping to the third without even thinking about it. The third suspect was nowhere to be seen. She paused, letting her ears pick up on the faintest sounds. Metallic clinking. Fire escape! She glanced across the roof. The next building was too far to jump to. Well, too far for some. Heather grinned and took off running. She hit the edge of the building and saw the suspect had just hit the street level, and was off running again. She leapt over the edge of the building, landing on the next roof easily. Had to get in front of the suspect.
She moved fast enough to be a blur to anyone else that might be watching, crossing the roof, and just pausing enough to make sure there wasn't anyone in the alley below her. It was only about three stories down, and she jumped off the side, landing in a crouch, and springing forward, sprinting out of the alley.
The third suspect liked his anonymity. Most people thought the gang leader was someone else, but in truth it was he. Even the narcs that got into the deal didn't know that. He had managed to get out of there because his people knew that if he got out, he would get them out later. Well, he wouldn't bother with most of them, because they weren't worth it, but there was one or two that he was going to need later. Just up ahead was a car and once he got there, he was home free. He knew where to lie low and then it was going to be back to business as usual. He grinned triumphantly, and that was when the little redhead that had been chasing them stepped right out from the alley, her gun already drawn and aimed.
"FBI!" she shouted, freezing him in his tracks. But…but she had been behind him! There was no way. No way at all! "Hands in the air now!" she ordered. He would have resisted, but there was something in her tone that said she wasn't afraid of him in the slightest, and that she wasn't afraid to pull the trigger. When you spent time with killers, you knew what a person who could kill sounded like. They sounded like her. That was the problem with a woman cop. They could shoot you and not have to answer to a review board like a man would because of all that "it takes less to put them in mortal danger" crap.
It took only a matter of a minute, and suspect three was in custody. Heather was breathing hard, but she couldn't keep out that tiny bit of triumph as she called in that Charlie Two had number three in custody. A minute later, three other agents arrived with transport, all of them congratulating her on catching him. No big deal. He wasn't a big guy or anything. He was just the one talking to the Columbians, not the guy who had been giving the orders to the peons. They had him on tape where the CIA had graciously tapped the phone lines somewhere in South America for them. Heather had no idea about that, although she wondered if Xander or Janice might know, but she was glad they were giving her credit for catching him. She had done the work, but a lot of times senior agents would grab the glory.
It wasn't like they could anyways. A freelance reporter had been alerted to the bust, and had arrived just as she stepped out of the alley. His cameraman caught the peaceful arrest right on film. Not sensational like he wanted, but it was right by the book and when played on the national networks, the FBI was shining like a diamond. Heather wasn't going to have to buy her own drinks for a week when she went out with the guys.
That night, Heather watched it on the news, and grinned to herself. Mom had first sounded pissed when she called Heather earlier. What if a news helicopter had been there instead of a street crew? Heather told her a little more about the planning and the hostage and Mom had sighed and said she was very proud of her. Dad asked about HRT and if this would help, but Heather didn't know yet. She hoped so. Both of her parents were impressed how she could blend her inhuman abilities within the confines of her career. They were a little worried about her career choice at first, but now they were both very proud of her. She never had to use her family connections, and was climbing the ladder easily on her own. Maybe not easily, but she was doing it on her own.
Heather flipped to another channel and watched the tape of the takedown again. She picked up her scotch and soda and toasted the small figure on the screen. "Agent Raleigh," she said softly, "you are the fucking best."
She was assigned to the roof, so that when the other agents went in, anyone that was flushed up, thinking they could jump to the roof of the next building and escape that way would run into her and Agent Baker. The agent heading up the operation was a little worried that there were only going to be two agents up there, and although it wasn't said, one of the agents was a woman, there simply weren't enough to spare. Heather wasn't worried, but she could hardly tell them why.
The bust itself was a joint venture between the DEA and FBI. It was the culmination of an undercover operation that had lasted nearly two years. Not easy, but this was going to be big. Huge, in fact. The field agents hadn't thought they were going to get to be involved considering all of the national agents that had shown up, but there was a request for a few field agents by name, and Special Agent Heather Raleigh, FBI, was at the top of the list. She was young, but she had already made a name for herself in how she handled suspects. Size might intimidate some female agents, but she never flinched.
The roof had a couple of air conditioner units about fifteen feet from the only door to the roof, and Heather and Baker were each crouched behind one, waiting for the bust to begin. There was supposed to be crack and heroin in there with a street value of over three million dollars, plus guns and cash. This was big. This was just what her application to the Hostage Rescue Team needed. It was a little late for that, but there was next year.
"Alpha team, go!" Agent Brenner's voice came over their earpieces. "Bravo, cover the secondary. Charlie, be ready!"
Heather caught Baker's eye and they both pulled out their guns at once. Baker was DEA, but she wasn't holding that against him. He was a tough agent from what she had seen, and if he couldn't handle himself, he certainly wouldn't have this assignment. Both of them were mentally counting out seconds, knowing how every inch of the bust was going to be going. They had planned and rehearsed it so many times; Heather had caught herself dreaming about it.
A minute later the door to the roof exploded open, a suspect flying through, but facing backwards. Both agents leapt out from their hiding places, Heather's reflexes letting her get out just a bit faster.
"FBI!" she yelled firmly, ignoring Baker's slight grimace. He'd wanted to announce 'DEA' first. "Hands in the air now!" she added.
The suspect whipped around, the sight making both agents gasp. He had a gun to the head of a young girl. She seemed to be about ten years old and was most definitely terrified. Heather mentally cursed. The place was supposed to have been checked for civilians. Maybe she was a dealer's kid or sister or something like that.
"Let the girl go and drop your weapon!" Baker shouted. He was concentrating on the suspect so much; he didn't notice how his partner's eyes half closed, the lids blinking together rapidly.
If the agents had appeared stunned to see the suspect burst through the door with a hostage, it was nothing compared to the look of utter shock on his face when his arm suddenly jerked back and up, effectively pointing the gun into the empty air above them. Neither agent wasted a second. Baker grabbed the suspect, taking him to the ground hard as Heather grabbed the girl, whipping her around, and both of them hitting the concrete, Heather's body protecting the child's. Heather had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. She had learned how to use her abilities more effectively in the last several years, and simply making an arm lift wasn't hard at all to do. Much easier than pulling a gun from someone's hands in fact, and it didn't cause a headache.
Heather looked up in time to see two more suspects explode from the rooftop door. They fired several shots down the stairs, and turned, running hard, and firing a few more wild shots behind them. Heather ducked back low again, a bullet chipping the bricks slightly to her right. That was too damn close! She glanced back at Baker.
"Giving chase!" she shouted, and took off at a dead run after them. She couldn't run all out; hell she'd pass the suspects if she did that, but she could move fast, and when they jumped to the next rooftop, there was no problem in her following them easily.
"Charlie One," she heard Baker say into the communications system, "one suspect in custody, Charlie Two is giving rooftop chase to two more. We have a rescued hostage up here." Heather caught the slightly smug tone. He knew the suspects were going to jump to the next rooftop. There was no way Heather would be able to follow, and he wasn't going to leave this suspect with the child, even with him in handcuffs. Alpha and Bravo were going to have to get them, not her. He didn't know anything.
She hit the ledge of the building, pushing off of the concrete and clearing to the next building easily. The suspects were already halfway across the roof. Damn it, what the hell was Alpha and Bravo doing down there to let three suspects get away? Oh well. Gave her a little something to play with. She let herself take off at a full run, catching up to the slower of the two suspects before he could notice that she was on the roof with him.
One hand reached out, and grabbed him by the neck, shoving him hard, and flinging him to the ground like a rag doll. His gun went skidding across the rooftop, and Heather was on him in a fraction of a second, grabbing his wrist to flip him over. He grabbed at her, trying to pull her down to the concrete. No way a woman would be able to get back up after he pounded on her a few times. He caught her arm and jerked hard, expecting to toss her over him easily. He might not be a big guy, but he could bench two hundred pounds easily, and she wasn't nearly that big.
He got her to move, but it wasn't like he thought it would be. Her arm twisted in his, and suddenly she was holding onto his right arm, yanking him up as she did some sort of flip over him. They were suddenly both on their feet, and before he could even think, her booted foot came up and kicked him hard in the ribs, knocking the wind out of him, and then slamming again in his head. He dropped back to the ground, not quite unconscious, but enough of the fight had gone out of him.
Heather got him on his stomach easily, and handcuffed him, taking the extra second to cuff his ankles together as well. With nobody able to see what she was doing, her hands moved at almost inhuman speeds, and then she was back to her feet again, going after the last suspect, and relaying her position and where the suspect she had in handcuffs was to base command. She loved the disbelief in the operator's voice as he echoed her information. It was great to be underestimated sometimes.
She raced across the next roof, jumping to the third without even thinking about it. The third suspect was nowhere to be seen. She paused, letting her ears pick up on the faintest sounds. Metallic clinking. Fire escape! She glanced across the roof. The next building was too far to jump to. Well, too far for some. Heather grinned and took off running. She hit the edge of the building and saw the suspect had just hit the street level, and was off running again. She leapt over the edge of the building, landing on the next roof easily. Had to get in front of the suspect.
She moved fast enough to be a blur to anyone else that might be watching, crossing the roof, and just pausing enough to make sure there wasn't anyone in the alley below her. It was only about three stories down, and she jumped off the side, landing in a crouch, and springing forward, sprinting out of the alley.
The third suspect liked his anonymity. Most people thought the gang leader was someone else, but in truth it was he. Even the narcs that got into the deal didn't know that. He had managed to get out of there because his people knew that if he got out, he would get them out later. Well, he wouldn't bother with most of them, because they weren't worth it, but there was one or two that he was going to need later. Just up ahead was a car and once he got there, he was home free. He knew where to lie low and then it was going to be back to business as usual. He grinned triumphantly, and that was when the little redhead that had been chasing them stepped right out from the alley, her gun already drawn and aimed.
"FBI!" she shouted, freezing him in his tracks. But…but she had been behind him! There was no way. No way at all! "Hands in the air now!" she ordered. He would have resisted, but there was something in her tone that said she wasn't afraid of him in the slightest, and that she wasn't afraid to pull the trigger. When you spent time with killers, you knew what a person who could kill sounded like. They sounded like her. That was the problem with a woman cop. They could shoot you and not have to answer to a review board like a man would because of all that "it takes less to put them in mortal danger" crap.
It took only a matter of a minute, and suspect three was in custody. Heather was breathing hard, but she couldn't keep out that tiny bit of triumph as she called in that Charlie Two had number three in custody. A minute later, three other agents arrived with transport, all of them congratulating her on catching him. No big deal. He wasn't a big guy or anything. He was just the one talking to the Columbians, not the guy who had been giving the orders to the peons. They had him on tape where the CIA had graciously tapped the phone lines somewhere in South America for them. Heather had no idea about that, although she wondered if Xander or Janice might know, but she was glad they were giving her credit for catching him. She had done the work, but a lot of times senior agents would grab the glory.
It wasn't like they could anyways. A freelance reporter had been alerted to the bust, and had arrived just as she stepped out of the alley. His cameraman caught the peaceful arrest right on film. Not sensational like he wanted, but it was right by the book and when played on the national networks, the FBI was shining like a diamond. Heather wasn't going to have to buy her own drinks for a week when she went out with the guys.
That night, Heather watched it on the news, and grinned to herself. Mom had first sounded pissed when she called Heather earlier. What if a news helicopter had been there instead of a street crew? Heather told her a little more about the planning and the hostage and Mom had sighed and said she was very proud of her. Dad asked about HRT and if this would help, but Heather didn't know yet. She hoped so. Both of her parents were impressed how she could blend her inhuman abilities within the confines of her career. They were a little worried about her career choice at first, but now they were both very proud of her. She never had to use her family connections, and was climbing the ladder easily on her own. Maybe not easily, but she was doing it on her own.
Heather flipped to another channel and watched the tape of the takedown again. She picked up her scotch and soda and toasted the small figure on the screen. "Agent Raleigh," she said softly, "you are the fucking best."
