The Protection Program

Chapter One

"I got eyes on the suspect," I whispered into my earpiece. "Waiting for instruction on the next step."

I had walked into the coffee shop I had been directed into and was in a full disguise the department had given me.

First, and probably my least favorite, a grandma-style hat that held all my hair except a single wayward strand had snuck out without me knowing. A multi-colored scarf was pulled tight around my neck, and a pair of fake glasses too big for my face sat on my nose. A black pea coat hugged my middle section with a belt, and the black work pants weren't anything special. Lastly, and probably most importantly for this scenario, a purse whose purpose was to hold my gun, handcuffs, and badge.

"Copy that. Just stay stationed where you are and keep eyes on the suspect," I heard back in my ear.

I was sitting at a small table in the middle of the coffee-fragranced room on the wall in perfect view of the door. I had a book open but hadn't even bothered to read a single word of it.

Hell, I didn't even know the book's title. It had been handed to me to help you blend in more, and I was too wrapped in the scene in front of me to even care to check.

The man that I was on watch for was named Tony Blanchard. He was just a small piece of the big operation happening in the background, but he was a lead I needed to get information from in order to find the next place his group would be.

You see, Tony was a lower-ranked man of a group that was one of the most well-known mafia businesses in New York.

Yeah, yeah, it sounds cliché. I get it. The thing is, I had a connection to this group and had been hunting them for years, truthfully, ever since my father died when I was sixteen. Something nobody should have to experience, especially at such a trying age.

My father was an accountant. He made good money with the job and provided for my family just fine. I had grown up in the nice city of Dallas, Texas, but my mom's parents got sick, and my family relocated to be closer to them in New York. Brooklyn, to be exact. Only about 20 minutes to the Big Apple. I was eight then and had to adjust quickly to the new environment I had been thrown into.

My father was offered a nice paying job running numbers for a family business and doing tax work with them. It was provided during a hard time, and that's all that mattered.

"Subject is on the move. Should I follow?" I questioned, worried that if I took my eyes off him, the lead would be lost.

"Stay where you are, Knight. Just wait 'till he's out the door before you move positions. We don't want him catching on," Captain Singer said in the comms.

Bobby Singer has been my father figure ever since I entered the academy. After I found a sense of purpose in bringing justice to my father's death, which happened to be associated with this mob, I went all into law enforcement. I dove head first and never came up for air, hell-bent on solving the case no one else could. I became one of the most well-known detectives in Brooklyn for some of the things I have uncovered about them and made an impressive name for myself.

I don't say all that as a brag as much as details to a bigger story. My goal in this line of work had never been about my reputation. I could give two shits what others thought of me, but apparently, that was another reason I had the credits I did.

"I'm going to lose him, Bobby, so I got to do something," I said, rising from my seat slowly.

"Y/N, I mean it. Stay where you are, or else you'll get made," he replied sternly.

Tony sauntered toward the door and was looking at a newspaper in hand. He started looking around like he knew something was off in the space around him.