Hell & High Water (THIRDS 1)

The air was vacuum-sucked out of the room, and Dex looked from Pearce to the captain and back, hoping someone could shed a little light on the unscheduled loss of atmosphere.

“What team?” Pearce asked quietly.

McGrier actually squirmed in his seat before clearing his throat. “Destructive Delta.”

Pearce went tense all over, his jaw clenched so tight, he looked as if he might crack something. Dex suddenly remembered Pearce’s brother and he prayed his luck wasn’t that bad. The THIRDS was huge. What were the chances he’d end up on the same team Agent Gabe Pearce had been on? Shit. He was Gabe’s replacement, wasn’t he?

Dex looked up at Pearce. “Same team?”

Pearce merely nodded, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

This wasn’t awkward at all. Just great. No one wanted to be the guy who came in after a dead partner. Dex hated baggage, and now he was about to walk into a partnership with enough to fill an airport terminal. His new partner probably had all sorts of expectations and they hadn’t even met yet. Howard Jones had lied to him. Things were not getting better. They were getting worse by the minute.

“Congratulations.” The word just about managed to squeeze past Pearce’s lips.

“Thanks,” Dex muttered.

“Do you know who your partner is?” Pearce sounded a lot more casual than he was probably feeling. Dex couldn’t knock the guy for trying.

“No, uh, it’s all kind of caught me by surprise.”

Pearce nodded and turned his attention back to the captain.

“Pearce, you’re going to take Dex’s place until we get people shuffled around here. Why don’t you walk him to his car? Dex, we’ll send your stuff to THIRDS Headquarters, along with any paperwork.”

In other words, the cap didn’t want Dex getting roughed up now that he was part of a shiny new elite force, and if Pearce was with him, Dex would make it out of the building in one piece. Good times.

Dex got up, removed his Glock from his holster and placed it on McGrier’s desk, along with his badge. He exchanged the whole “it was a pleasure working with you” bull with the cap, knowing neither one of them had anything else to say. They didn’t bother with the whole “keep in touch thing” because they both knew it wasn’t going to happen unless it was in an official capacity.

Pearce walked silently beside him through the old precinct, shoulder to shoulder, lost in his own thoughts. Dex couldn’t tell if the look on his face was due to grief or antipathy, but he felt for the guy. He wanted to apologize to Pearce for his loss, for the promotion that reminded him of his loss, for the actions that led to his promotion that in turn reminded him of his loss. Dex would have apologized for his whole damn existence if he thought it would make a difference, but it wouldn’t, so he didn’t.

Dex had opted for parking his baby in the private parking garage across the street instead of the precinct lot, just in case. The amount of money paid for parking would be far less than what he’d have to shell out for a new windshield or paint job.

When they reached his car, Dex turned to Pearce, figuring this was probably the last he’d see of him. No chance Pearce was going to want to share that coffee with him now.

“Nice car.”

“Thanks.” Dex patted the hood of his baby with a dopey grin. Sometimes he liked to pretend he was John McClane in a Die Hard movie, except with more speed limits, fewer explosions, and generally a lot less action going on. He really needed to start daydreaming a little bigger. As he suspected, Pearce gave him a curt nod and turned to walk away, but to Dex’s surprise, stopped.

“Watch your back over there, Daley, and don’t expect a warm welcome.”

Well that didn’t bode well. “Why do you say that?”

Pearce seemed to mull it over before turning back, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. “Destructive Delta is in Unit Alpha, and those positions are the highest, most dangerous, most sought after in the THIRDS, yet Gabe’s position is still open, has been on and off for over a year. What does that tell you?”

“I don’t know, but I can imagine losing Gabe was probably tough for the team.”

Pearce nodded, his lips pursed. “I’m sure it was, but the THIRDS don’t mourn, they keep moving. They’re not like the rest of us. Rumor is, the Team Leader, Agent Brodie, has run off over half a dozen agents. I’ve met him, and believe me when I say he’s the biggest asshole to walk this earth. As far as he’s concerned, no one is good enough to replace Gabe. I would have found his loyalty admirable if he hadn’t been the one to send Gabe to meet that Therian informant on his own the night he was killed.”

“You think it was Agent Brodie’s fault Gabe got killed?” Dex was concerned for Pearce. Maybe this team leader was an asshole, but if the THIRDS were as good as everyone claimed them to be, surely they wouldn’t have sent in their own teammate knowing he couldn’t handle himself. “You don’t want to go down that path.” Dex put a hand on Pearce’s shoulder. “It doesn’t lead anywhere good. I didn’t know Gabe, but I get the feeling he wouldn’t want you thinking like that either.” Dex understood what it felt like to lose family at the hands of criminals. He also understood firsthand how dangerous it could be to fall into despair. Lucky for him, he’d had his adoptive dad—Anthony Maddock—at the time to pull him out before he’d lost himself.

“You’re right.” Pearce’s scowl gave way to a sad smile. “Gabe wouldn’t have wanted that. At least he died defending what he loved. Take care of yourself, Daley. I’ll call you about that coffee.”

With that, Pearce walked away, his footsteps resonating through the empty, cavernous garage until he disappeared into the shadows, leaving Dex standing by his lonesome facing an undiscernible future.

Damn you, Howard Jones!

Chapter 2