Resist Me (Change Me Book One - standalone): McCoy Raven Boys (2 page)

“Chief.” I nodded.
 

The dark suits wordlessly walked away.
 

“The feds?” I asked.

“Yep.” His bushy eyebrows pulled together, deepening the permanent crease between them.
 

Chief’s eyes were puffy and red, the skin on his jowls sagging more than normal. He was pushing sixty, and his health was failing. Diane, one of my good friends worked in the clinic where Chief Holton had his annual physical done for the last ten years. She didn’t think he should be still working in such a physically demanding job.
 

He turned the laptop screen toward me and indicated the blueprints of the building. “Look right here.”

I leaned closer, but there wasn’t anything out of ordinary at the spot he alluded to. “What am I looking at?”

“A panic room,” he said under his breath.
 

“In a
warehouse
?” I sounded incredulous even to my own ears.

The Chief glanced around. Rescue 12 and 18 were laying hoses. Jack and the rest of my crew were getting our firetruck ladder extended and positioned by the adjacent building. One of the Rescue 18 Battalions was taking care of setting their ladder to the next-door building.
 

When the Chief looked back at me, our eyes met. His stare was hard when he quietly said, “This isn’t… wasn’t a regular warehouse.”

“I figured that much already.” I nodded toward the feds.
 

He followed my stare. “Yeah. I don’t know a whole lot about what’s going on here. They aren’t exactly the chatty type. But they want us to get to that panic room right away.”

“There can’t be any easy access after the whole structure is blown into pieces. We need the drilling equipment and the excavation unit to get here,” I said.

“Yeah. They’re here.” He pointed behind me. The special units just arrived. “That room isn’t on the blueprint filed with the city.” He gestured to the computer screen. “But the feds claim it’s there, and insist that we find it quickly.”

“There is someone in there.” This wasn’t a question. I didn’t have to ask. Four years of deployment in Afghanistan with the Marines equipped me with ability to put two and two together fairly quickly. “Someone important enough that the feds are swarming all over.”

“They’re hidden well, whoever
they
are.”

Two police cars, with their beacons flashing pulled to the site. The KOTS News Station van arrived right behind them. The doors slid open, and Anne Fischer, the morning news reporter, stepped out, pulling down on her tight mini skirt. She had the best legs ever, but that wasn’t all I liked about her body. Anne was one of those lean but deliciously curvy women that looked amazing in and out of clothes.
 

I exhaled and felt my brows bunch together. Anne and I had a thing in the past. Nothing serious, just pure, adult fun. Hell, I haven’t had anything serious with any woman since the 10th grade. And that was by choice. Relationships were not for me, despite my mom desperately trying to hook me up with her girlfriends’ daughters.
 

Now Anne was here—at my workplace so to speak. I never mixed work with pleasure, and so seeing her at the incident site didn’t sit well with me. But she was at her work too, so I couldn’t hold that against her. I just didn’t want her to notice me.
 

I walked fast to my team to coordinate the operation. They knew what to do without me babysitting them, but I was their captain, and my place was with them now. Besides, I wanted to avoid Anne. Damn, I wanted to avoid too many chicks lately.
 

“Rescue 12 and 18 are about to start.” Jack pointed to the groups of firefighters from the other two houses. They were almost finished with laying their hoses.
 

The ladders were up, extended all the way to the upper floors of the two neighboring buildings. We were to extinguish any interior fires, right after the Rescue 12 and 18 took care of the exterior flames.

“Our hoses are ready?” I asked.

“Yeah, all is ready, Cap,” Jack said.
 

“Okay, we move in as soon as the interior fires are snuffed.
 

When the flames on the outside got killed, the drilling and excavation were already in full swing. Chief Holton came up behind me right before I went with my guys into the building on the left, while the Rescue 18 went into the right structure.

“Ethan, Jack, come here, you two.”

I looked back at him in surprise. “Sir?”

Jack stood beside me. He was a big guy, even taller and bulkier than myself. At six-foot-two I towered over most of my buddies and coworkers. In our heavy fireproof coats, pants, and bunker boots we looked like giants next to the short and plump chief.

Chief Holton glanced back and to the sides, as if making sure nobody can overhear us. “Jack, take the battalion lead. The Captain stays here. I have a special mission for him.”

“Yes, sir.” Jack nodded and rushed into the building, no questions asked.
 

Chapter Two

ETHAN
 

 
“What? You want me to leave my guys and stay here? What’s going on?” I was puzzled. Such a thing has never happened before. I was their Captain, and my team was my responsibility. Although, this was also a direct order. I knew better than to question my superior.
 

The Chief lifted his hand in a conciliatory gesture. “Jack can lead the team well enough. You are required to take on another task.” He motioned to the area where the excavation team was already moving the equipment off the side. “You’re going to that panic room. With your Marine’s training, you’re the best man for the job.”

“Jack has received the same training as I have, Chief.”

He sighed and ran his hand through his thinning gray hair. “I know, Ethan. But your cousin’s temper is better utilized there,” he nodded toward the building, “while you know how to restrain yourself. Besides, this… well, hell, I will tell you what the feds just said. But that’s not to be discussed with anyone, Ethan. In that panic room is a sole witness to some big case the FBI is involved in. She’s young and terrified, and who knows in what state of mind she is in after this mess here. They’re afraid she will pull out, and they’ll lose the only witness they need to pin down some troublemaker. What we need now is someone who can ease her out of there and make sure she feels safe.”

I gave him a skeptical look. Okay, so it was widely known that I had my way with women, although I would never kiss and tell. Some of the ladies apparently have done just that, because I’ve been quickly labeled as a “bad boy who won’t settle down”. No matter what, this was my private life, which I never mixed with my professional one. So why the hell would my own superior hint at my special
talents
? I’ve proven to him and everyone else at work that when it comes to my job, I won’t be second-guessed.
 

“Ethan.” His bushy brows pulled together as he pinned me with his steely stare. “Look, the FBI needs her. She’s the only one who can testify in that case. I know you can talk to her and make her feel protected—”

“So that’s what this is about? Giving some poor girl a false sense of security?” I was fuming, but I managed to keep my voice low.

He sighed. “I’m sorry, son. That came out wrong.” The Chief shook his head and exhaled forcefully. “Evidently, she’s been already hinting at pulling out, and so this,” he gestured around, “might be the last straw. What I’m asking is that you just try.”

I narrowed my eyes, looking at the spot where group 3 from Rescue 12 and a few black suits congregated in a circle. More feds, together with the police tried to keep the media away. Several local TV stations were at the scene, cameras rolling.
 

I spotted Anne, standing in front of the KOTS News Station camera, talking to a large microphone with the station logo on. When she pointed to the scene behind her, the fabric of her white button-down blouse stretched tautly over her round breasts. A fleeting recollection of those gorgeous tits under my fingers surfaced from some dark depths of my mind. My cock stirred, and a pang of desire ran through me. I pushed the not-completely-unwelcome memories out of my mind.

“That’s the order, Chief? I will do it, but I strongly believe I’m needed much more with my men inside that building.” I shoved my thumb over my shoulder, in the direction where my guys did what was now absolutely necessary—killing the possible fire inside and preventing it from spreading into the next building.
 

He sighed. “It’s a request. Please, Ethan. She’s my daughter’s age, just twenty-three; a college girl in the FBI witness protection program. The kid doesn’t have any family… she sure as hell could use some help from a firefighter.”

That did me in. Chief Holton’s daughter was born with Down syndrome. Her mother died, giving birth to her. The girl has recently developed a rare type of leukemia and was going through chemo treatments. She was the Chief’s only child, and was slowly fading away. How could I possibly refuse his plea?
 

“Okay.”
 
I nodded and started to peel off my gloves and the heavy fire protection coat. The sun was up, and I was getting uncomfortably warm. “Is there a two-way communication established with that woman? A phone or a radio?”

“There was a separate landline, but it’s out of service now. Must’ve been damaged in the explosion. She’s not answering her radio either.”

“So no communication at all?”
 

“Nothing.” He shook his head.
 

We passed all the media, ignoring the journalists’ calls for comments about the incident. I bent at the waist, slipping under the barricade tape, Chief Holton following close behind. I heard him grunt in discomfort when he had to bend his bad knee to lower himself under the tape.
 

Two feds approached us. This time the Chief made introductions. “Ethan, this is Special Agent Drasco,” he motioned to one of the left, “and this is Special Agent Cornell.”
 

They both nodded.

“This is Captain Ethan McCoy from Rescue 8, the Explosive Response Squad Unit. I briefed Captain McCoy about the situation,” Chief Holton told them. We need to move in. The lady in there might need immediate medical attention.”

“How is the air supply in that panic room?” I asked.

“The room is equipped with air scrubbers. They draw in fresh air from outside and can filter it indefinitely,” Special Agent Drasco explained.
 

Long enough to wait out a chemical attack for example. Or, at least the worse of it. Must be well-constructed safe room.
 
I thought. “So smoke from the fire should be no problem then,” I said.
 

Special Agent Cornell cleared his throat and said in a low baritone, “We are not completely positive on the air scrubbers functionality after the explosion. The system might’ve been damaged.”

“Is there an escape shaft?” I inquired.
 

“It was checked already, and the access is blocked by heavy debris.” Cornell shook his head.
 

“So let’s have our guys clear it.” What were the feds waiting for? That should’ve been already done.
 

Drasco and Cornell exchanged a fleeting glance, just a flicker of the eye, but it was enough for me to catch it.
 

Cornell drew in a breath. “The explosives were deposited at the escape shaft exit. A good part of the passage has collapsed.”

“So now this trap door here is the only way out, right?” I knew the answer, but without the complete blueprints of the underground structure I wanted to make sure we weren’t missing anything.
 

“Correct,” Drasco confirmed.

The excavation unit was close to be done with clearing the area and salvage operation. They knew how to work efficiently and fast. I kneeled by the uncovered steel trap door in the warehouse concrete floor and carefully ran my hands over the metal. There were four handles flush with the surface of the door. I wrapped my fingers around one handle opposite the massive hinges, fitting my hand into the round recess under it. I yanked on it. Nothing. I suspected the door could only be unlocked from the inside.
 

“I doubt we can simply pry it open. This isn’t going to be easy.” I examined the edges closer. “Can we get some tools to try?” I asked the guys from the drilling crew.

“This door is designed to be unlocked only from the inside,” Special Agent Cornell confirmed my theory. He crouched next to me and rapped his knuckles on the metal surface. “And it is soundproof, so she wouldn’t hear if we tried to communicate with her.”
 

As expected, there was no response from the room. This was a real-deal safe room, not the stuff you see in the movies, where a person inside might be verbally coerced to follow the attacker’s plan. Sound insulation in real life was done to eliminate such nonsense and also to prevent anyone on the outside from hearing what was going on the inside, like a phone conversation with the police.
 

But with such powerful explosion, there was no doubt the woman inside knew something went very wrong. So why wasn’t she trying to get out?