001. Failed mission

JAYCE BECKETT

There are only two ways to catch a criminal: you either offer yourself as a bait to catch them, or wait until they get bored of playing hide and seek and surrender themselves.

However, experience shows that the former is more likely, while the latter is unlikely to happen. Not even in a million years.

As I crouched in the dimly lit alley, my heart clenched in my chest, and my lungs constricted, making every breath a struggle. The fuzzy dizziness that clouded my brain threatened to overwhelm me, leaving my fingers numb and unresponsive. But I gritted my teeth, fighting to maintain focus.

My gun remained poised, my back straight, and my feet planted firmly on the ground.

Suddenly, I detected light footsteps behind me. I swiftly turned, gun at the ready, my finger hovering over the trigger. My training kicked in, and I assessed the potential threat.

But as I locked eyes with the figure emerging from the shadows, I lowered my gun, relief washing over me. It was Agent Cole Hollander, our team leader, his eyes locked intently on mine.

"All clear?" I whispered, my voice barely audible over the distant hum of the city.

My pulse quickened as Cole's silence stretched out, his angry expression making my instincts go on high alert. I wondered if he was still upset with me for injuring my hand right before the operation, or if his frustration was directed at the entire team.

"Bad night, I guess?" I said again, raising an eyebrow as Cole turned and walked away without a word.

Our team was already gathered outside of the building, they all had a solemn expression on their faces.

"I swear, there's a fucking mole among us," Cole Hollander growled, his voice low and menacing, as he stormed out of the building towards our tem. "Someone leaked the information, and now we've lost those bastards."

I let out a deep breath, feeling the weight of our failed operation bearing down on me. I pressed my forehead against the wall, my breath sagging in frustration.

I couldn't help but wonder what this setback would mean for Cole. The SAC had been riding him hard, criticizing our team's slow progress in catching the criminals. This was our last chance to salvage the case; if we failed, it would be transferred to another team.

Cole's determination to solve the case was personal. We'd all worked tirelessly for months, pouring our hearts and souls into the investigation.

The thought of handing it over to someone else was unbearable. Cole's reputation was on the line, and I knew he'd do whatever it took to crack the case before it was too late.

But now, we fucking lost the bastards! Our team fucking failed to catch them yet again.

"Alright, team, gather 'round. I'm calling off the operation, effective immediately. Despite our best efforts, things haven't gone according to plan and continuing to push forward would be reckless and potentially put us all at risk. I'm proud of the work we've done, but we need to regroup, reassess, and come back stronger. Let's fall back, analyze what went wrong, and start planning our next move."

I heard Cole say, addressing the team. But despite his efforts to hide his emotions, his tone betrayed him. Cole didn't sound like his usual self; he wasn't happy about this failed mission, and that much was clear.

I stepped onto the cracked and lifting steps of the back porch, my boots causing the wooden planks to creak loudly beneath my feet.

Cole suddenly halted, his abrupt stop causing me to freeze in my tracks as well. A faint movement caught my attention, and before I could turn to check, Cole fired his gun, a bullet whizzing over my shoulder.

"Fucking get down, Jayce!" Cole yelled, his voice low and terrifying.

But I was too late. A split second later, a bullet grazed my cheek, the wind from its passage brushing against my face like a cold caress. I felt a searing pain as the bullet sliced through my skin.

"Shit," I cursed under my breath, dropping to the floor and swiping a gloved finger over my cheek. As I expected, my finger came away bloody.

Gunshots erupted around us, the sound of gunfire echoing through the air. I wondered what the hell was going on. Hadn't Cole called off the operation? Hadn't those bastards already left? Had they come back?

I holstered my gun and leaned against the wall of the house. Cole knelt beside me, taking hold of my face to examine it more closely. He dropped his gun and I closed my eyes, bracing myself for his bullshit.

"You're fucking bleeding, Jayce!" Cole snapped, pressing his gloved hand against my face to stem the wound. Gunshots continued to ring out around us.

I opened my eyes, clenching my fist as I watched Cole dab at my face with his glove. I felt a surge of annoyance at being treated like a child.

"Stop treating me like a weakling just because we're friends, Cole," I hissed, tried pushing him but he grabbed my hand. "I can handle myself."

Cole's expression turned stern. "I swear, every time, you give me reason to want to remove you from every operation," he gritted out, slowly releasing his grip on my cheek.

"How do you expect Curtis to feel if anything should happen to you?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

"Don't give me shit, Cole," I gritted out, pushing him away. "Curtis understands my job just fine, so leave him out of this."

"What about me?" he snapped, his words making my shoulders slump. "How do you think I'll feel if anything happens to you during an operation? What do you expect me to say to Curtis? How do I face that poor boy after promising him I'll keep you safe no matter what?"

I stood up, my anger and frustration boiling over. "It's just a minor cut, I'm not fucking dying," I hissed, walking away.

The gunshots had already stopped, and when I got outside, I found my team searching frantically.

However, it seemed that whoever was firing the gunshots wasn't anywhere near us. The distant sound of sirens was fast approaching.

I rolled my neck, wincing at the lingering throbbing pain on my cheek. It felt a little better after Cole had massaged the cut, but I knew it was going to swell up and be a pain later on. That was a problem for future me to handle.

"Go to the paramedic and—"

"I'm fine," I groaned, scanning the surroundings to see if I could spot any signs of the shooter or an escape route where they must have disappeared into.

But I couldn't find anything. Those bastards were really good at their shady work. I must give them that.

"Go. Get. Treated. Don't make me have to remove you from the next operation," Cole threatened, walking towards the team to check if anyone else was hurt.

I glared at his retreating back. "Son of a goddamn bitch."

While I didn't like it, disobeying Cole would definitely lead to him having to come to my apartment later and tell Curtis everything that had happened here.

That would either make Curtis refuse to take his medication because I was putting myself at risk, or he would just stop talking to me.

I couldn't afford to have Curtis hold a grudge against me. The last time he did that, I almost lost him because his sickness worsened, but he wouldn't tell me.

"Agent, let's take a look at your injury," one of the paramedics called out to me. I rolled my eyes and walked towards the EMS vehicle.

After the paramedics did their thing, they had to tell Cole twice that I was indeed fine before he'd let me leave the EMS vehicle.

We entered the van, and the drive back to the station was silent. Each of us was thinking about where the operation had gone wrong. I could swear our informant hadn't given us false information. Something had to be wrong with the team.

"Sorry I was a jerk," Cole said in a whisper, secretly nudging me with his elbow. "I didn't mean to be so standoffish back there."

"It's okay," I said. "Besides, that bust during the raid has put me in the worst mood. All that work, and what did we get?" I laughed dryly as I leaned back and stared at the roof of the van.

Cole didn't say another word, and I fucking like it that way.

Getting to the station, I jumped down from the van and walked toward the elevator. I still had a few paperwork tasks to complete before heading home, and I needed to be quick about it before Curtis' bedtime. I wondered how he was doing and contemplated calling home to check on him.

After some contemplation, I walked over to my desk, entered the password to my drawer, grabbed my phone, and was about to call home when I felt someone behind me.

I lowered the phone in my hand when I saw our supervisor standing behind me with his hands tucked in his pockets.

"Good evening, Supervisor," I greeted, raising an eyebrow, wondering what brought him all the way from his office to my desk.

"Agent Beckett," he called in his voice, which always made me wonder if he ever spoke in a friendly tone. "The Chief wants to have a word with you."

I felt the phone slip out of my hand. Why the hell would the Chief want to see me? Had I done something wrong? Had Cole reported me to the Chief and asked for me to be removed from future operations?

What the hell am I looking at here?