25. FBI
FBI
The armored SUV smelled like gun oil, nylon, stale coffee, and adrenaline.Chris Walker sat on the bench seat with his back against reinforced steel, elbows resting on his knees, body armor tight across his chest.FBI stretched across the front in yellow block letters.For the first time in months, nothing about him was fake.No Roman driver’s license in his wallet.
No fabricated criminal history.No story about illegal street racing.No pretending his weapons training came from private security.No pretending he didn’t know what the inside of a federal operations vehicle felt like.The handgun secured at his hip was his.The badge clipped beside it carried his real name.CHRISTOPHER WALKER.And everybody surrounding him knew exactly who he was.Mercer sat near the front wearing body armor over a dark tactical shirt, radio pressed to one ear.Logan sat opposite Chris checking his equipment for what had to be the fourth time.Six agents from the tactical team occupied the remaining seats.Nobody was joking now.The convoy moved quickly through industrial streets.Three FBI vehicles ahead.Two behind.Additional teams coming from separate directions so the entire operation didn’t arrive in one obvious line.Chris glanced toward the small reinforced window.Warehouses moved past.Storage yards.Freight trucks.Railroad tracks.He knew this area.Too well.He’d driven through it as Roman.Delivered vehicles here.
Memorized turns while pretending not to care where Mateo was taking him.And now he was returning with the FBI.He had spent months trying to reach this moment.It didn’t feel the way he’d expected.Logan finished checking his sidearm and looked at him.“You good?”
Chris stared through the window.“Yeah.”
“That’s convincing.”Chris looked over.“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know. Maybe something reassuring.”
“You picked the wrong vehicle.”Logan smiled faintly.There he was.A little bit of normal.
Then Mercer’s voice cut through the compartment.“Three minutes.”Every expression changed.Chris sat straighter.The vehicle slowed.Radio traffic began increasing.“Bravo in position.”
“Charlie approaching south perimeter.”
“Air unit has eyes.”
“Loading activity continues.”
“Primary target still inside.”Chris’s jaw tightened.Mateo.Still there.Good.It had to be good.That was the job.Mercer looked toward Chris.“Walk us through it one more time.”
Chris immediately shifted.The thoughts of Camila disappeared.Mostly.He reached toward the tablet mounted between the seats.Satellite image.Warehouse.He pointed.
“Main entrance is here.”His finger moved.“Two exterior cameras. One over the door, another high on the southeast corner.”The tactical team watched closely.“Can they see the approach?”
“Main approach, yes. That’s why you don’t use it.”Mercer nodded.Chris continued.
“Western service entrance here.”He tapped the screen.“Electronic lock. Narrow corridor directly inside.”
“Guard?”
“Usually one.”
“Usually?”Chris looked at Mercer.“Last time I was inside, one.”
“Armed?”
“Yes.”
“With?”
“Handgun visible. Could be more.”One of the tactical agents leaned closer.“Interior cameras?”Chris nodded.“First corridor has one near the ceiling, right side. Another over the loading floor.”
“Blind spot?”
“Ten feet before the hallway opens.”The agent nodded.Chris moved his finger.“Loading bays run one through six.”He tapped four.“Four is where I saw the white cargo van.”
Five.
“Five had the Tahoe.”Then six.“Six was being used for incoming commercial shipments.”
“What about narcotics?”Chris moved toward the rear portion of the floor plan.
“Restricted section.”He remembered the door opening.The smell.Packages.Hundreds.
His expression hardened.“Through here.”
“Door?”
“Steel. Keypad.”
“Code?”
“Didn’t get it.”
“We’ll breach.”Chris nodded.“Once you’re through, main packaging tables are immediately left.”He pointed again.“Pallets along the eastern wall. Last time I saw them, the bulk product was stacked here and here.”Mercer looked toward the tactical commander.
“You have that?”
“Got it.”Chris continued.“Do not assume that’s still accurate. If they’re clearing the warehouse, layout could’ve changed.”
“Understood.”
“Armed workers?”
“Some. Not all.”
“Numbers?”
“Last time, about fifteen inside restricted operations. Could be more tonight.”Logan leaned forward.“Diego?”Chris tapped the area beside the loading floor.“He usually positions himself here when they’re moving product.”
“You sure?”
“No.”Logan’s eyebrows lifted.Chris gave him a look.“You want me to lie?”
“Point taken.”Chris moved his finger toward an enclosed office.“Mateo likes distance.”
Mercer watched him.“Meaning?”“He’ll be near the operation but not touching it.”
Chris tapped the office.“Likely here.”
“Why?”
“View of the floor. Direct access to rear exit. Enough separation to argue he’s managing the warehouse, not the drugs.”Mercer nodded slowly.“Exactly what he’s done for years.”
“Yeah.”Chris stared at the map.“I know.”A radio crackled.“Surveillance confirms Vargas moved from loading floor into elevated office.”Everyone looked at Chris.Chris didn’t react.
He’d been right.Mercer pointed.“That’s our primary.”Chris’s stomach tightened.
His mind betrayed him.Camila.Mateo’s little sister.The woman who had spent years believing her brother was protecting her.The woman who had looked at Chris less than an hour ago and whispered:I love you.His chest tightened beneath the vest.He remembered her face.Tears in her eyes.Hands curled into his vest.Then come back to me.Chris’s gaze remained on the floor plan.But he wasn’t seeing it anymore.He saw Camila in his apartment.Barefoot.Her hair tangled from sleep.Camila in Mateo’s kitchen stealing food from his plate.Camila laughing in the gardens.Camila holding his badge.FBI, Chris Walker.
Really?Then—I love you.Chris closed his eyes for half a second.I love you too. “Walker.”
Nothing.“Walker.”Chris looked up.Logan was staring at him.“What?”
“Stay with me.”
“I am.”Logan shook his head.“No.”Chris’s jaw tightened.“You’re thinking about her.”
Nobody in the vehicle spoke.Chris looked down at his weapon.Checked it.Again.
Not because it needed checking.Because he needed his hands occupied.“I know where I am.”
“Do you?”Chris’s eyes lifted.Logan wasn’t teasing.That mattered.Chris leaned back.
“I’m good.”
“You’re about to walk into the same warehouse where her brother is standing.”
“I know.”
“You’re about to arrest him.”
“I know.”
“You don’t have to pretend that doesn’t fuck with your head.”Chris stared at him.
Mercer listened without interfering.Chris looked back at the tablet.“Doesn’t matter.”
Logan’s expression hardened.“Bullshit.”Chris turned toward him.“We have people inside that warehouse moving narcotics.”
“I know.”
“We have armed suspects.”
“I know.”
“We have teams relying on us.”
“I know.”Chris’s voice lowered.“So what exactly do you want me to do, Price? Sit here and talk about my feelings?”One of the tactical agents wisely looked away.Logan didn’t.“No.”
“Good.”
“I want you thinking about the warehouse when that door opens.”Chris stared.“You worry about yourself.”
“I am.”Logan leaned forward.“And you.”Silence.Then Chris’s shoulders relaxed slightly.He looked down.“I told her I loved her.”Logan blinked.Even Mercer looked back.Chris immediately regretted saying it.Logan stared.“You?Chris gave him a flat look.“Yes, me.”
“You used the actual words?”
“Fuck off.”Logan smiled.“I’m just surprised.”
“Why?”
“You’ve spent ten years treating emotional vulnerability like a hostage situation.”
Mercer’s mouth twitched.Chris looked toward him.“Really?”Mercer adjusted his vest.
“I said nothing.”Chris shook his head.Then the humor disappeared as quickly as it arrived.“She said it first.”Logan’s expression softened.Chris looked toward the window.
“And then I walked away wearing this.”His fingers touched the front of his FBI vest.
Nobody had a joke for that.Chris swallowed.“She just found out who I am.”
Logan nodded.“And now she might watch me put her brother in cuffs.”
“That isn’t your fault.”Chris laughed bitterly.“You sound like Sloan.”
“Terrifying.”Chris stared through the window.“What happens after this?”
Logan understood.“With Camila?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know.”Chris nodded.Exactly.He didn’t either.A radio transmission interrupted them.“Convoy approaching staging point.”Mercer immediately stood as much as the armored vehicle allowed.“Enough.”Everything changed again.Personal disappeared.
Operation.Mercer’s finger moved over the tablet.“Alpha breaches west service entrance.”
One tactical agent nodded.“Bravo secures loading bays.”Another nodded.“Charlie blocks northern vehicle exit.”Mercer looked at Logan.“You go with Bravo.”
“Copy.”Then Chris.“Walker.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re with Alpha until restricted floor is secured.”Chris nodded.“After that?”
“You guide primary arrest team toward Vargas.”Chris’s expression hardened.
Of course.He’d brought them here.He’d been the man Mateo trusted.It made operational sense that Chris would be the one who knew how to reach him.It was also going to be one hell of a reunion.Mercer studied him.“You have a problem with that?”
“No.”
“You sure?”Chris checked his weapon one last time.“I’m sure.”The armored SUV turned.
Chris felt the change in pavement.Industrial access road.Close.Very close.Radio:“Targets still active.”
“Two vehicles being loaded.”
“Suspected narcotics visible.”
“Primary remains upstairs.”
“Secondary target Serrano on floor.”Chris’s heartbeat slowed.That familiar transformation.Logan noticed.He always did.Chris’s face changed.No anger.
No fear.No distraction.Just focus.The same man Camila had seen appear during every chase.Except now there was no cover story explaining it.This was what Chris Walker did.
He leaned toward the tablet.“Something else.”Mercer looked at him.“What?”
“If Diego realizes we’re coming, he won’t stay with Mateo.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Diego cares about Diego.”Chris pointed toward the northwest corner.“There’s a rear vehicle exit behind loading bay six.”Tactical commander frowned.“We have Charlie there.”
“Not that one.”Chris zoomed the map.An older service path barely visible beside the building.“This.”Mercer leaned closer.“That isn’t on the property plan.”“No.”
“How do you know?”
“I saw tire marks the last time I was there. Didn’t know where they went until I drove past the western fence afterward.”Logan stared.“You remembered tire marks?”Chris looked at him.“Yes.”Logan shook his head.“Fucking psychopath.”
“Later.”Chris traced the route.“It connects to an old rail-service road behind the adjoining property.”Mercer immediately keyed his radio.“Command, add containment unit northwest rear service path. Possible secondary escape route not on property schematic.”
Acknowledgment came back.Chris sat back.There.One more piece.One more reason the months undercover mattered.Mercer looked at him.
“Good catch.”Chris nodded.Then his mind flashed again.Camila holding his face.Chris Walker?
Yeah?Come back.His throat tightened.Logan caught it.Again.
“Walker.”Chris looked at him.Logan didn’t have to say anything this time.Chris breathed in.Slow.Then out.He touched the photograph inside his vest.One second.That’s all he allowed.Camila.Then he secured the flap over it. “I’m here.”
Logan nodded.“You better be.”The vehicle stopped.Everything became quiet.
Not truly quiet.Engine idling.Radios whispering.Equipment shifting.But the kind of silence that happened just before people stepped into danger.Mercer looked around the vehicle.“Final checks.”Magazines.Weapons.Helmets.Radios.Chris pulled his helmet on.
Fastened it.He looked nothing like Roman now.Badge.Vest.FBI.Special Agent Chris Walker.The man he’d spent months hiding.A voice came across the radio.“Alpha ready.”
“Bravo ready.”
“Charlie ready.”
“Containment ready.”Mercer pressed his radio.
“Command confirms warrant execution authorized.”Chris’s hand closed around his weapon.Another voice:“Thirty seconds.”Logan looked at him.
“You ready?”Chris nodded.Then stopped.He thought about Camila one last time.Her smile.Her laugh.Her anger when she discovered the badge.The way she’d still kissed him before he left.I love you.Chris closed his eyes.I love you too.He opened them.
No more distraction.No Roman.No lies.He checked his weapon.“Let’s finish this.”
The rear doors opened.Night air rushed inside.Agents poured out.Chris hit the pavement with them.Ahead, less than two hundred yards away, stood the warehouse where Chris Roman had finally been trusted with Mateo Vargas’s secret.Chris Walker looked toward it through the darkness.Blue-black sky.Warehouse lights.Men moving beyond the fence.
The organization he’d spent months infiltrating.The brother of the woman he loved somewhere inside.Mercer’s voice came through his earpiece.“Teams hold.”Chris took position behind an armored vehicle.Gun ready.Eyes forward.His heartbeat steady.
“Stand by.”Five seconds.Four.Three.Two.Then Mercer’s voice:“FBI. Go.”Chris moved.
And for the first time since this operation began—he wasn’t pretending to be anyone.