I also knew what to ask.
“Is Lee okay with this?”
“None of us work here to have someone tell us what to do unless we need direction. So it doesn’t matter. He knows we do what we do. He also knows we won’t work here anymore if he gets up in our shit about what we do.”
This, I knew, was true.
However.
“But you’re offering me ride along on one of his cases,” I pointed out.
“Yeah. And after he trained me or if we’re not workin’ a team operation, he does not send me out, micromanaging how I deal with a case. And he’s fuckin’ smart. Definitely smart enough to know it would not go down good if he started doin’ that shit.”
Before I could reply, the inside door opened again and I watched Ike move out.
He gave a chin lift to Vance, a mini-smile to me and walked by us to the door.
But at the door, he stopped, turned and said to me, “You need backup with that Smithie gig, you got my number.”
I had no chance to say anything before he was gone.
“I’m outta here,” Vance murmured, and I looked back at him. “Text you tomorrow when to meet me. We’ll meet here and move out.”
“I… uh, okay,” I agreed.
“Don’t be late,” he returned, then he, too, was gone.
I stared at the door.
I did this for a good long while.
Then I smiled.
I was still smiling when I tested the door to command central and found it unlocked, which was unusual, but likely left open for me.
I made my way to Lee’s office and entered it, yep… still smiling.
In it were the expected. Dad, Hank and Lee with the not expected but not surprising addition of Tom Savage, Indy’s father, my second dad and my dad’s best friend.
What was surprising was that Monty, another of Lee’s guys was there.
Monty took one look at me then looked to Lee and declared, “Vance offered the ride along.”
I looked to Lee and saw he was studying his boots, jaw hard.
I decided not to confirm this. If Lee’s boys were offering help, I’d take it. What I wouldn’t do was cause friction between Lee and his men. If they made their decisions and carried them out, that was one thing and they had to deal with that and any ramifications. If I stuck my nose in, say to gloat (or the like), that was another.
So I kept my mouth shut.
“Ally,” Monty called, and I looked back at him. “The men in this room are here because we know your plans and we’re askin’ you, with respect, to think long and hard about carrying them through.”
I held his eyes.
I’d known Monty a long time. He was the oldest member of the team, an ex-Navy SEAL who didn’t work in the field often for Lee due to an injury he sustained during his time in the military.
I liked him. He was solid guy; nice, funny, a family man. I also respected him.
But this pissed me off.
My father, second father and brothers, I’d show them respect and listen to what they had to say.
But Monty?
What the hell?
It must be said, I failed at not getting pissed-off, but I succeeded in keeping my shit together and therefore pointed out (somewhat) calmly, “I’ve been thinking on this for two years.”
“We’d like you to think on it longer,” Monty replied.
I drew in a deep breath.
“Monty’s here because he gives a shit, Ally,” Lee put in.
“I get that,” I said to my brother, then looked at Monty, “And due respect to you, what I do with my life is none of your business.”
“I’ve been doin’ this awhile, longer than your brother, and I’ve seen women chewed up and spit out in this business,” Monty returned.
“Yeah? So every man you know who tried his hand did spectacularly?” I shot back.
