Random shots continued to ring out around the building. Based on those and the number of hostile contacts getting announced over the air, there had to be at least twenty or thirty gangbangers in there. That was a lot more than Brooks and the other members of the task force had expected. But there wasn’t anything they could do about that now.
He and his teammates kept moving through the warehouse, arresting those who made that an option, doing what was necessary in the other cases. It wasn’t a choice he preferred, but getting into long, drawn-out confrontations would only put other members of the task force at risk. Fortunately, more of the gangbangers gave up instead of fighting.
Brooks thought the raid would actually go down easier than he’d feared, but then he heard heavy weapon fire coming from the right, in the direction of Ray’s team and the side exit.
“Need backup on the east side of the warehouse,” Ray said calmly over the radio. “We’re pinned down by four men with automatic weapons.”
Brooks threw a quick look at Connor and Diego, who simply nodded and kept moving forward without him.
“On the way,” he called out over the radio. “Keep your heads down.”
Luckily, Brooks didn’t have to engage with any other gangbangers on the way. Mostly because there weren’t many left. He followed the sounds of heavy gunfire, the stench of chemicals getting worse as he ran past several large industrial kettles, each bigger than a car. This must be where they made the energy drink. The odor alone was enough to make him wonder why anyone would drink the crap. It smelled like scented battery acid. While the noise wasn’t as bad in this part of the building, he still wished someone would shut down the damn conveyor belts. The constant clank and rattle was digging right through his sensitive ears and giving him one hell of a headache.
Brooks liked to think his werewolf instincts led him directly to Ray, but that would probably be pushing it. The truth was that one second, he was running down an alley between two long rows of cardboard boxes, and the next, he saw Ray on one knee behind a heavy steel support column, facing a guy with an automatic rifle. The gangbanger was walking right toward Ray, keeping him pinned down with a hail of bullets.
“Dallas PD!” Brooks shouted, instinct and training forcing him to give a warning that he knew would be ignored. “Drop the weapon!”
The man spun, the cheap knockoff M4-style automatic rifle spraying the walls and ceiling with bullets as he tried to change his aim point and take Brooks out.
Brooks didn’t give him the chance.
He scanned the area to make sure it was clean but didn’t see anyone, even though Ray had said there had been four men with automatic weapons here earlier. He sniffed the air, hoping that would give him a clue, but the odor of fentanyl was so strong, he almost got dizzy from it. He kept going, approaching the downed suspect and kicking the rifle away as Ray moved to join him.
“Where are the other shooters?” Brooks asked as he dropped to a knee to see if the man he’d shot was still breathing.
A flash of movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention, and he snapped his head around to see three men step out from the walkway between the boxes. Everything seemed to freeze as he recognized the big man in the middle of the group, even as his head tried to tell him what he was seeing couldn’t be right.
Ernesto.
Selena’s friend, the man who’d become like a brother to her after Geraldo had been murdered. What the hell was he doing here?
Before Brooks could even try to answer that question, Ernesto and the two men with him lifted their weapons and started shooting. Brooks whirled around as he got to his feet to return fire, knowing he was probably going to be hit at the same time but not caring.
Suddenly, a blur passed in front of him. Brooks had only a second to shout in warning as Ray went down, hit multiple times with a spray of bullets as he attempted to protect Brooks from the incoming rounds.
Brooks brought his weapon up, firing an entire thirty-round magazine at Ernesto and the other two gangbangers. They moved fast for humans, diving to the side and slipping away down a corridor between the conveyor belts. He knew he should chase them, but he couldn’t. Ray had been hit. There was no way Brooks was going to leave him.
Shit, it was bad. Blood leaked through a hole in the center of Ray’s tactical vest, right where a bullet had punched through it. More poured from an abdomen wound, well below the bottom of the vest. There was another wound in Ray’s left thigh, but that was minor compared to the other two.
“Officer down!” Brooks shouted into the radio as he kneeled by his old friend. “I need EMS support ASAP to the east side door, two hundred feet inside the building.”
He didn’t hear anymore shooting in the building, which was a good thing. Someone had finally turned off the conveyor belt, too.
There was a clang as someone shoved the nearby door open. Brooks knew it was Ernesto and the other gangbangers getting away, but he ignored them as he ripped Ray’s tactical vest off, exhaling a little when he saw the bullet hole to the right side of the sternum. The round had clearly missed the heart, but it had sliced through Ray’s right lung, and the bleeding was severe. He quickly rolled Ray to that side, so his left lung would stay clear of blood. At the same time, he pressed a firm hand to the wound on Ray’s abdomen.
Ray let out a hiss of pain, his eyes starting to glaze over. “You should go after them,” he said weakly. “They’re getting away.”
“We’ll get them later,” Brooks said.
Ray opened his mouth like he wanted to argue, but Trey and Zane showed up. Zane stood there, a devastated look on his face, while Trey immediately went into his medic role, checking Ray’s pulse and calling to alert EMS for a severe chest wound.
“Two fucking weeks,” Ray whispered, his voice getting weaker as one of his lungs began to fill with blood. “I haven’t even sent in my paperwork yet. Was gonna do that tomorrow. Can you believe that shit?”
“Stop worrying about that.” Brooks swallowed hard. “You’re going to make it through this. You’re too damn tough to die. Besides, didn’t you hear that Curtis is a criminal piece of shit who’s currently being hunted by half the law enforcement agencies in this country? You don’t even need to retire now. You can keep working until you’re a hundred. You just have to hang on.”
Tears stung Brooks’s eyes.Shit.He was saying some of the same stuff Jack had said to him all those years ago when Brooks had been the one lying on the ground dying at that high school.
“I just wanted to always do the right thing,” Ray said, the words so soft, Brooks had to lean over to hear them. “I guess in the end I did that. I saved your life.”
