Boston Blues - BLACKBIRD book 2

15. trust

Phil turned on his stool as she went to the coffee machine like nothing happened. Actually, it was about time to tell him about it. And it may even work for them.

"What d'you mean 'clean', ma'am?"

She came back with two coffees and her little smile.

Out at the tent, Russell and the team couldn't see her face, but they all flashed identical smiles. And Brock got ready for a heartburn. He had no idea what she was up to, but he could bet his right hand she was about to try something to make Palmer think she was more valuable than all the hostages put together, and then suggest to let them go.

"Agent Coleman?" she said, circling the counter to go sit by Phil with her coffee. "His first name's Russell, and we've been best friends for the last twenty years."

Phil scowled in disbelief. "What!?"

"He started off like a cop and we went together to the Academy. If you don't believe me, call'im and ask'im. But trust me: nobody here cares about me more than him. He knows I'd do anything to keep you from hurting these people, so he wants to work this out—to keep me from harm."

Brock noticed Russell had folded his arms, eyes down as he listened to Gillian. He wasn't smiling anymore, and there was a hint of sadness in his face. Of course he knew about her father. He'd known for years. King Gillian's words shocked him only because he'd never expected the man would admit it in such a blunt way.

"But he's only one, and there's a bunch of feds out there with him," insisted Phil, still not convinced.

"Oh, you mean the people with him at the tent? Those ain't no feds, Phil: that's my own team. And they would kill slow and bloody anyone who hurts me."

Brock heard Fred growl under his breath, "Damn right we would." He knew the sniper meant it two-hundred percent.

Palmer retorted, "Sure! Then how come they haven't tried anything yet?"

"'Cause they trust me, and they know there's gotta be a reason why I'm playing along with you."

"Really. And what would that be?"

Brock set his jaw. Careful now, Gillian, if that word even exists in your dictionary. Please don't be yourself too much.

"'Cause of you, kiddo," she answered right away, like stating something obvious. "'Cause I believe you're smart and straight enough not to want a bloodshed. And if that's the case, you and I can work this out with their help."

Phil stared at her, as Gillian held his eyes with a plain, frontal look.

"You don't know me. So don't come saying you believe in me."

Gillian's smile faded as she replied, "I've played it fair and open all the time, Phil, from the very beginning. You said no tricks, and that's what I'm giving you, just like my friends out there. But that's not just because. I've been a cop since you were in kindergarten. I can tell when I can trust someone. Else I wouldn't have completely surrendered to you. I've put my life in your hands out of my own free will, Phil. You haven't let me down, and I don't think you will. That's why I trust you."

Phil took a moment to stomach such a statement.

Brock narrowed his eyes. As usual, she'd chosen the most dangerous card to play: burden him with her trust, remind him of all the lives depending on him, aim straight to whatever sanity and good will he might have left.

"And what about your father? He doesn't seem to give a shit about anything, not even you."

She's got him, Brock thought. Palmer had accepted the burden, and now he asked about the others out there. He was looking for any excuse to trust them like she did, desperate to believe they could find him a way out of the mess he himself had caused.

Gillian didn't hesitate to answer, as if he'd asked something trivial. "Yeah, well, do I need to tell you about family ties?" Phil scoffed and Gillian smiled again. "But he's just met his match out there."

"Oh, yeah, that uptight suit, right? He's in your team too?"

Brock felt the eyes of the whole team fixed on his back, and he could even sense their ironic smirks as they waited for Gillian's reply, which he wasn't sure he wanted to hear.

"Hell no! That's Agent Brockner, Russell's partner. And yeah, I was talking about him. Trust me, Phil, you don't wanna mess with him. Did you see his scowl? Well, he's the most dangerous kind of man: a determined one, with a big heart behind that scary scowl." Profile that, stupid bold caring man.

Phil let out the chuckle the team was forced to swallow, while Brock wore his best blank scowl to keep looking across the street at Orlando's.

There was so much he was not about to analyze in Gillian's few words. Starting with her hell-no—well, nothing new there—then that surprising combination of dangerous and big heart in the same sentence, and applying them to him. Not to mention she'd pushed him once more to higher ground, to level him with no less than her father.

"That's why we should do as they say, and it'll be alright," said Gillian, preventing Brock from not analyzing any further.

"'Cause they care about you."

"And I trust them just like I'm trusting you, Phil. With my life."

Brock turned to Russell. "Call him, Coleman. We need to get those people out."

"Let's give them a minute," Russell replied.

Brock saw he was fighting hard to conceal a mocking smile and scowled deeper. Russell stopped fighting and smirked openly.

Brock was about to insist when they heard Gillian say to Palmer, "You should let these people go, Phil. I'm staying here with you."

"Yeah, sure you will."

"Hey, no tricks, right? You have my word."

Russell called and Phil shot a hesitating look at the phone. Brock went to stand behind Tanya to watch the screen, showing the security feed from inside Orlando's. And he saw Gillian resting her hand on Palmer's arm with a quick, gentle pressure and her warm smile.

"Talk to Russell, Phil."

And of course Palmer picked up the call.