Fit to be Tied (Marshals 2)

“It is, but, you know, Latham always says we wait for direction.”

“Even on a warrant that we’re serving?”

They both nodded.

“Oh.” I shouldn’t have been surprised, the procedure in Phoenix a constant learning opportunity. “So even during those times when we’re supposed to take point, you guys run the support agenda?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh,” I said, turning to Ian.

He crossed his arms. “Are you fucking with me?”

I checked on Hoch and Quinn, and as they both appeared confused, I returned my focus to Ian. “No, I don’t think so.”

When I was hired, Kage had made clear that in his office, we went for the jugular each and every single time. He was always in charge; he expected his men to carry themselves that same way in the field. It was lucky that Ian had ended up working for Kage, as he was not the guy who waited and said please and may I. Ian kicked the door down and God help you if you were behind it when he did.

“We hang back and wait,” Hoch reiterated, in case Ian and I were slow.

“Okay,” I agreed, because it was not my call.

“Fuck no,” Ian growled, and when he stalked away, I was committed to following, as it was basically in my job description.

Two hours later, as we sat in Latham’s office listening to him yell again, for like the hundredth time in a three-week period, I realized Ian and I were on thin ice. We’d be lucky if we had jobs when we got home.

“We never lead!” he bellowed at us. “We take our cues from the other law enforcement on site so it can never come back on us!”

Latham’s team didn’t breach, they didn’t tell everyone else to fuck off; they took custody only when it was time or when they were asked to. It was a completely different dynamic than we’d been operating with since we became marshals but really, was probably the one with a lot fewer incident reports.

“And you went in without even pulling your guns. What the hell was that?”

I cleared my throat. “We were walking into an area with a high number of civilians, sir, and so until the threat presented itself, we didn’t want to draw our weapons.”

“There didn’t need to be an escalation of force,” Ian seconded. “We try not to draw our weapons unless we’re going to use them.”

“You were on a task force!”

“Close to a college campus,” I enlightened him. “It wasn’t necessary.”

“We were able to collect the fugitive without trading any gunfire,” Ian stated in case Latham hadn’t been informed.

“But it wasn’t your call to make!”

It had been, in the end. Ian had seen the guy and the two of us had walked over to his table and taken him, fast, easy, shoving his face down into his nachos. He was cuffed and ready for transport before the DEA douche bags were even ready to move.

“I hate those guys,” I muttered.

“You shouldn’t!” Latham shouted. “Because you work for them!”

Ian scoffed, which didn’t help Latham’s blood pressure even one bit.

“You two need to take the rest of the day and get yourselves right,” he snarled. “We’ll try this again tomorrow.”

We were halfway to the elevator when a guy yelled out our names. Turning, I found a tall, handsome man striding toward us. When he stepped in close, he offered me his hand first.

“I’m Javier Segundo,” he greeted me, smiling, squeezing tight, before facing Ian. “I didn’t get to meet you guys yet ’cause me and my partner Charlie Hewitt were assigned to SWAT all last month up until yesterday, heading up a Fugitive Task Force.”

“A whole month?” I was horrified. “Why?”

“How else do you pick up guys fortified in their homes?” he asked with a shrug.

“No, I get going in with SWAT for those, but how many can you have?”

“This is Arizona,” he said, chuckling. “We’ve got a ton of survivalists and doomsday preppers, and everybody’s got an arsenal on their land.”

I myself had noticed quite a few firearms in plain sight.

“Just so you know, we get loaned out to SWAT so we have backup. It’s basically for our safety since we don’t wear body armor.”

We had body armor back home because we worked tactical operations upon occasion because of where our office was located. Other pieces of possible marshal duties, like Asset Forfeiture or Judicial Security, Ian and I didn’t do, though Kage supervised other marshals who did. But to hear that Segundo and his partner never wore armor was a surprise. When it was a full breach, when it was us picking up a fugitive someplace where there could be heavy gunfire and God knew what else, all of us, the whole team, went in suited up in our tactical gear. The only way to tell us from SWAT was by the letters on our backs.