She shifted in her seat.
This was not the time.Never would be a better time.Blaming the thrill of the sting that made her blood rise.
Which was kind of ironic, really… Here she was, sent to shut them down, and now shoulder to shoulder with the man she was meant to report on.Getting a buzz from his killer coffee and getting flashbacks from that kiss, that she was never going to mention again.Ever.
But it wasn’t just him getting under her skin.It was the realisation that she was starting to bend her own rules, just to keep playing whatever complex game they’d built between them.All under the neat excuse of justice.
Somewhere along the line, her professional audit had slipped into thepersonalside of things.There the emotional columns weren’t balancing, and she was starting to lose track of which rules were his—and which ones she’d quietly rewritten for him, just to see where this arrest would take them.
Romy’s voice came over the comms:‘Target confirmed.Trailer swap in progress.Illegal transfer caught on camera.And I even remembered the time stamps, this time.’Romy gave a slight giggle, as if enjoying the game.
On-screen, both drivers had jumped out and moved fast between the trucks and trailers, as if they’d done it a dozen times.
Taryn nodded at the small screen.‘All I see is a simple trailer shuffle.Hardly seems like an arrest-worthy offence.’
‘You really think they’re playing musical road trains for fun?’grumbled Finn.
‘Hey, we both know I’m a city-bred Fed.So this is your chance to enlighten me.’
‘Okay… If there’s no weighbridge, no inspector, or paperwork?Then it’s not legal.’He pointed at the tablet’s screen.‘Out here, cattle are currency.You swap a B-double on a backroad with no one watching, and it’s a duffer’s dream.Doesn’t matter if they’re branded—without a paper trail, it’s like they never changed hands.’
He nodded at the screen.‘That trailer alone could be worth a quarter of a million, if it’s prime stock.And they’re looking at over fourteen years, minimum, if we catch ’em moving it like this.More if the paperwork’s forged.And if they’re repeat offenders… well, you know the drill.’He nodded at her shiny Federal police badge.
Didn’t that smug little look of his have some kick to it.Not only had it been a while since she’d been on a sting like this, but she was behaving like a rookie.
Come on, I know the drill.
She shifted in the passenger seat, the bulk of her Kevlar vest digging into her ribs.So, it had been a while since she’d worn one of these.And it’d been longer since she’d watched a crime unfold in real time, instead of dissecting it from behind a desk scouring spreadsheets.
Here there were no heels, skirt and blazer that made up the suit.And no neck-swinging, laminated lanyard.
Just boots, dust, and a front-row seat to a cattle theft sting, beside a man who smelled like coffee and vengeance and intoxicatinglyhim.
No, not him—this.
She used to love this part, the exciting minutes before the take-down.The hand on her gun holster, as the door was getting kicked down.
As a kid, she’d spent hours training to tactically breach her toy cupboard, rescuing Barbie from yet another hostage situation, orchestrated by her plush warlord teddy.Her military babysitters were tough taskmasters with their drills—but her parents had been so proud.
Just your average suburban household, where dinnertime conversation meant decoding missions they legally weren’t allowed to discuss, in between conspiracy theories shared with the same enthusiasm as who spotted a sale at the supermarket.
No wonder she could follow the tangled threads of Finn’s Gaps File without flinching.And no wonder she wasn’t scared, riding shotgun with the outback’s grumpiest beefcake.
She wasn’t new to this.She’d just been wearing the wrong shoes.
Finn gripped the radio’s mic.‘Stone, track the single-trailer truck, once it rolls, to see where it goes.Stay out of view.The rest of us will take the triple.Romy, I’ll need your drone on us for the bust, and on comms.’
‘Copy that, Bossman.’Stone replied for both him and Romy as the sound of a helicopter came to life in the background.‘Birds are in the air.’
‘Amara and Stone have been teaching Romy to monitor the truckie’s airwaves,’ Finn explained with his eyes on the screen.‘If the driver gets spooked and calls it in, we’ll hear it.’
‘Can we jam it?Short-range, just enough to stop him raising an alarm?’
Finn nodded.‘Briefly.Stone rigged a signal disruptor onto Romy’s drone.It’s got limited range, but it should buy us enough time if it goes sideways.Romy’s been putting in some serious time on her skills.She can record a baby croc hatching from fifty metres and still catch the wind in the grass.Sound tech is becoming another one of her superpowers, that really helps this team.’
Taryn gave a short nod.‘You forgot the part where Izzy says video and audio are the best kind of evidence.’So did the courts.
Finn’s mouth twitched as if to stop the smile as he keyed the mic again.‘Craig?Park that horse truck near the north bend, inbound to Elsie Creek Stockyards.But keep the engine running and that shortcut in your sights.’
