“This is the proof the general needs to take down Harvey Couch for good,” Trax said.
“I’m ready to get out. Couch is crazy, man.” Wendlick’s pits were stained—not a good sign.
“I hear ya.” Trax tapped his shoulder. “Just go along with what they say. We’ll hear and record everything. Don’t worry. You’ll do fine.”
Wendlick blew out a breath. “Thanks. I’ve dreaded meeting Couch. I hear one false move and he doesn’t think twice about shooting you in the heart.”
“We won’t let that happen.”
After Trax nodded to his men to get into position, he climbed on top of one of the containers and settled in for the wait.
Because they’d been here before, he positioned his men more effectively this time. From his vantage point, he had a visual on the street entrance and beyond.
Kurt was located behind one of the larger boats, Drake under a truck, and both Clay and Dirk were in wolf form, ready to pounce. It took about five seconds to shift, and those five seconds would give his two men an advantage. A werewolf was most vulnerable during that transition period.
Trax couldn’t get the general’s lecture out of his head. After the reaming out they got, they better get this SOB this time. This morning, the general had announced that the FBI was hot on the man’s trail. Couch had now become too dangerous not to catch. They didn’t want to resort to gunplay but would if need be. The time was nearing.
“Jeffrey, can you read me?”
“Loud and clear.”
“This will be the last communication until Couch arrives.”
“Understood.”
Wendlick was in plain view in his car. Several times, trucks had come in and workers had emerged. When they began working on a ship, Trax’s men relaxed. With each vehicle that entered, he concentrated on whether or not a shifter was inside. So far, none had arrived.
His elbows and knees were getting sore from lying on the hot metal. Couch should have arrived an hour ago. With each minute, Trax’s gut soured and his mood grew blacker.
“Hey, Trax?” That was Clay who’d shifted back to human form.
“Yeah? See something?”
“No, it’s getting hard to hide. A ton of guys just exited from one of the ships. Looks like they’re knocking off for the day.”
“Fuck.” Time to make the call. “We need to abort. He knows we’re on to him.”
Trax hated to leave, but if Couch hadn’t come by now, he probably wasn’t going to show. Trax climbed down the container and rounded up the troops.
Wendlick got out of his car. “So now what?”
“I’m not sure. If you hear from him, let the general know.”
“Will do.” He took off his wire and handed it to him.
Kurt jogged up to him. “You gonna tell the general that Couch never showed?”
His gut clenched thinking about that conversation. “Yeah. I have to. Let’s go.” He turned to Wendlick. “Thanks and be careful.”
Kurt gave his brother a hug. “We’ll get him. Hang in there.”
Trax’s civility disappeared the moment he climbed in his car. As he exited the shipyard, he checked the roads but spotted no one waiting for his team to depart. Not only did his pride take a beating at his failure, but that meant Liz was still in danger.
“Fuck.” He slapped the wheel and then called the general. The resulting conversation bolstered his resolve to do better next time.
He parked behind his building and trudged up the steps, not relishing having to tell Dante and Liz that he’d botched the attempt. Again. He heard the giggling before he opened the door at the top of the steps. He stepped in the house and when he saw their lips locked he nearly lost it.
They separated and looked up at him with such hope in their eyes that his throat squeezed tight. “Don’t even ask. Couch never showed.”
He stalked off to the kitchen and grabbed a beer. Couch must suspect something was up and decided not to show at his promised appointments. That meant he was hiding and only Couch knew when he’d emerge.
Liz drew in her bottom lip, an action that caused his groin to ache. She stood and faced both men. “Now that you’re both here, there is something I need to bring up.”
She dragged her hands down her pants as if this news wouldn’t be well received and looked right at him. “As much as I appreciate all that you’ve done, I really have to get back to work.”
Trax’s shoulders tensed. “That’s not a good idea.”
She held up her hands. “I knew you’d say that, but there’s no telling when you’ll catch Couch.”
Her voice was without censure, but the pain ran deep. His frustration bubbled out. “You’re right.” She seemed to pin everything on his ability to get the job done. And he’d failed. “But I promise you, I will succeed.” He had to.