The Hill - BLACKBIRD book 5

2. turbulence

Ron turned to Hank. "D'you think you can cook one of your juices to knock them down?"

Hank nodded, still outraged.

"That can save us a nasty shooting," said Aldana, thoughtful.

"A smart move, considering these jerks must be all well-armed." Kurt hated to realize he was already too awake in spite of himself. "Hey, Al, we should tell the locals what we need, so we can get to work as soon as we land."

"You're right. Give me a list. You too, Hank."

"I can't tell until I see the place and how many they are."

Fred heard Gillian grunting and stood up. She refilled the coffee machine, her back turned to the seats.

"Here, allow me," he said with his trademark placid tone.

Gillian stepped aside, huffing. "Jeez. Can't wait to be face to face with those sons of bitches."

Fred kept his eyes on the coffee machine. "You sure you wanna do this, Reg?"

"You mean coffee? Of course I want."

He didn't answer.

Gillian nodded. "I do, Fred. They've been on the loose for too long."

"We could let the locals do it."

"Seriously? And they'd have the locals for lunch anytime. I hate to admit it, but Hank's right. How can we trust them, if they have a black woman as primary against armed bigots with a taste for torture?"

"I'm talking about you, Reg. I'm talking about Balken."

She stiffened as if he'd slapped her.

"Sorry, words are so not my thing." Fred tried a quick smile that looked a lot like a grimace. "You could've let me take'im down at the hospital. That's how we usually do things. But you didn't. And yesterday, you and Al didn't let us question that man and did it yourselves. I know it's been hard for the two of you, but you guys should let us do what it takes to bring this to an end."

Gillian arched her eyebrows—excuse me?

This time his tight smile was a little sad. "You never went back to the hospital after taking Balken down. And I bet you're gonna have bad dreams about yesterday's interrogation for a while."

Gillian looked away. No, she wouldn't. That was the problem. Just like killing Balken, she'd beat the answers out of that son of a bitch again anytime.

Fred let out another sigh. "Look, Reg, what I mean is that you're pushing yourself too hard this time. This ain't you. And this ain't war. We've got choices. You don't have to do things you're gonna regret later."

A chill ran down her spine at his words. She met his eyes with a questioning frown.

Fred's voice was low but warm. "Keep your hands clean, Reg. Let us take care of the shit. I don't want any of this burden you, come in the way and screw up what could be a good thing for you."

Gillian would've chopped off her right hand before asking what he meant. But she couldn't help getting on the defensive. "Meaning it wouldn't burden you?"

"I've got nothing at stake here, like you and Al. This is just another case for me. And I've had too much shit back in my day to let this get to me." He winked at her. "Thought you knew I'm shit-proof, Reg."

She took her turn to sigh. "Then how d'you wanna do this?"

"Let's take a look at the place. Maybe we can gas them out, stun them enough to save ourselves another battle--this time in the middle of a residential area. One thing is sure: I'd rather lend you a rifle to help me cover the others, than let you go knock on their door."

"What d'you mean?" she asked, taken aback.

"You should let us take the front line for once."

Fred tried to soften his words by offering her a steamy mug. It didn't work.

"Jeez! Really? Are we still talking about the hostage crisis?"

"And the Wood case."

"And the Amber Alert."

Fred scoffed when Ron spoke from behind Gillian. She spun around like bitten by a scorpion.

"The Ghost."

"And don't forget the Baileys."

"Oh, well! Mutiny now? Then listen to me: I ain't falling back to appease your cave-man hearts." She pointed an accusatory finger at Fred. "You just said something about not being myself, right? In what world I'd be myself bringing the rear?"

Fred looked up past her, at Ron, who said, "She wouldn't talk to Brockner like this."

"Yeah. Maybe we should call him and ask him what he thinks about it."

"Always better than calling to tell him she got hurt or something like that."

The heat blazed up Gillian's face so hard, she thought her ears would just drop off her head. She kept her death glare on Fred. "If you're trying to make it to my do-bloody list with Kurt and Hank, you're almost there."

She spun around and brushed past Ron as he said, "It's called caring, you Irish fool."

"Oh, shut up!"

"Hey, Reg!" called Aldana. "Doctor Schwarz has something!"

"Yeah, a slow painful death coming," she grunted under her breath.

Ron and Fred watched her go back to her seat.

"How did it go?" asked Ron.

"I still have all my teeth."

"Not that bad, then."

"She got my point."

"Hope so. I hate seeing her like this."