Thirty-Two
Morning sun slanted through the windows of the six-story building. We’d parked half a block away and insisted the FBI agents ride with our patrol in unmarked cars. We couldn’t be sure what floor the Order occupied—although if it were me, I’d be as high up as possible for the best vantage point—and that meant we couldn’t risk them catching a glimpse of black SUVs and flashing lights.
“How exactly are you intending to keep all of these officers out of the line of fire?” Jacquie asked, now wearing jeans and a t-shirt under her tactical vest.
“I’m still working on it.” I stepped closer and put a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to come in with us.”
She fixed me with her trademark glare. “Ezri, I know what might be waiting in there. It terrifies me, but I know a familiar fac
