Burn Into Me (Into Me Series Book Two)

Chapter Thirty Two - Intelligence

Jackson's POV

"Shit..." I mutter to myself as I stare at the hot mess before me.

This did not go well. At all.

"Hart!" the director's voice booms.
I cringe and close my eyes, taking a deep breath, "Sir?"
"What the FUCK?!" he growls.
"Sir, I-"
"No! Shut the fuck up!" he snaps.

I sigh and open my eyes, the hot mess back in view. Riley looks at his feet, Connor is pinching the bridge of his nose and muttering under his breath while he shakes his head, and Jordan just stands there silently with a dumbfounded look on his face. Can't say I blame him. I'm also dumbfounded. By our fucking stupidity.

"You are going to apologize, profusely, to this congregation. You will offer to help them with any little thing they might need from this point forward. You are going to fix the doors you kicked in. You will then each make a donation to this church... a large donation... and beg God, Jesus, Budda, whoever for forgiveness for what you asshats did tonight," the direction demands, narrowing his eyes at us.
"Yes, sir," we mutter, lowly.
"I mean, really, Hart? Raiding a church on a Sunday in the middle of a night service seemed like a good idea to you?" he rages.
"Sir, based off of the intel we got from your informants, the church angle was just a cover-up and 'service' was basically a giant fucking orgy," I defend.
The little old lady a few feet away gasps, shaking her head at me.
"Sorry..." I mutter to her, looking down at my feet.
"And which part of that exactly seemed like a good lead with truthful information?" the director counters.
"I... don't know," I stumble.

"I'm not sure what your fucking problem has been lately, Hart. This is your fourth case in a row that has been a total bust. If it becomes five, I will be looking for a new CO," he proclaims.
"Yes... sir..." I mutter.
"Get your fucking head on straight," he grumbles one last time before turning on his heel and storming off.

I glance up at the team, "I'm sorry, guys, this is on me."
"No, it's not, Jackson," Connor replies, shaking his head. "It's on the dumbasses that keep giving us shit intel. What the hell is going on with them lately?"
The old lady gasps again.
"Sorry..." Connor and I mumble.
"Alright, Jordan and I will fix the doors, Connor will go schmooze the priest, and Jackson can start writing the expenses report," Riley determines. We nod and split off into our assigned roles.

I head out to Connor's Jeep to grab my iPad while checking my phone. Jet sent me an adorable picture of her laughing while Rosie attacked her face with kisses. I let out a laugh and smile, telling her I love her and that I'll be home soon.

I don't know where the fuck I keep getting this shit wrong. There HAS to be a leak somewhere in the team. Someone has to be a double agent or something. We have never had these problems before until the team began expanding. I look across the parking lot at the team as they all load their gear back into their cars/trucks/etc. Who the hell could it be? None of this makes any sense and it's frustrating as hell.

As quickly as I can, I take pictures of the church's damages and fill out the expense report. You know, paperwork, my favorite. We were told by the intelligence department (which clearly is not very intelligent lately) that one of the biggest sex trafficking rings that we have been tracking since I started as an intern in Columbus was meeting here and using the church angle as a cover-up. There apparently had been multiple confirmed sightings, complete with photographic evidence, that confirmed the suspicion.

This shit makes me look like a fucking idiot. Especially this many times in a row. The director thinks that I'm distracted again, gave me some bullshit about how he understands because miscarriages are hard, and then told me to get it the fuck together already. I thought I did have my shit together. Clearly not.