“Yes, sir.”
I kept a blank face, trying to push away the memories that flooded my brain. Men lying around me, wounded, dead, or dying. Good men. Fathers. Brothers. Sons. Too often, I regretted that I was the one who survived. Too often, I asked myself whether someone else was more deserving to be in my place.
“We are honored that you have chosen to join Internal Affairs,” he continued, leafing through the folder in front of him. “Your skills and character profile fit the requirements.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“We are launching a major operation next month, and we want you to be a part of it. Have you heard of The Loser’s Division?”
“No, sir.”
“It’s a moniker for the unpopular police department stationed in Smitsville. The officers who end up there are not exactly an upstanding bunch, if you get my meaning. What Grangetown Correctional Facility is for criminals, the Loser’s Division is for the policemen.”
He slid a folder across the desk. “Here are the details and the name of the person of interest. He’s not the only suspect, and we have other agents infiltrating departments across the state. Your mission is to blend in, observe, and keep your head down.”
I opened the folder and leafed through the documents, pausing on the photo of a man with a scar on his face and piercing blue eyes. I have never seen eyes so blue, or a man as formidable as this one, and I served under many formidable men.
“He’s a senior detective,” I said, scanning the document.
“Affirmative. I’ve heard that he's a real piece of work, so you’ll be in for a challenge. Are you easily provoked?”
“No, sir.”
“Good. Use it to your advantage. By the way, you report directly to me. No written trail. The instructions are in the notes.”
I looked at the photo once again before closing the folder. “Understood.”
“Good man. I’m here if you have questions. Otherwise, welcome to the operation Codename: Salome.”
PART 3
Chapter 17
I Would Rather Die
One week later
Jordan
I rang the doorbell while checking the list of names I had memorized on my phone. It was the fifth and last name on the list, which meant my last hope. So far, it was a fool’s errand, but I hoped my luck would change because I was getting desperate. I was a drowning man gasping for the last breath of air. A man, dangling over the edge of the cliff with a dark abyss under him. A man, who miscalculated, made a terrible mistake and ended up suffering for it.
When a woman opened the door, I put on a rehearsed smile. She had red hair streaked with gray, a turban on her head, and a nervous look on her face. She looked fifty-ish, but I could be wrong.
“Not another exorcism?” she said, checking me out. “You’re the cutest thing, but it would be the third one today, and honestly, I don’t know if—”
“I’m not here for an exorcism, ma’am,” I cut in. “May I come in?”
She gave me a once-over. “What do you want, cop? I have a feeling it’s not palm reading.”
“No, it’s not,” I replied. “In fact, I’m looking for a friend. I can pay.”
As it turned out, those were the magic words because she let me pass.
“Come on in, then. Are we talking about a missing person?”
“No,” I said, looking around. “At least I hope not.”
I had visited a few similar establishments during the past few days, and they all looked pretty much the same. It meant skulls, candles, and dim lighting, with the smell of herbs and wax permeating the space.
