Page 82 of The B-Team

The color drained from the commander’s face. “You’re lying! This is all a lie, invented to get your team out of here. You’re trying to blackmail me!” He spread his arms wide and looked around at the officers nearest him. “Don’t listen to him. This is all a lie. DI Singh, I order you to take this man back to his cell.”

Lake wasn’t done yet. “Do you know what’s funny?” he said to the flailing man. “We didn’t even know what was in Carla’s files until you started looking for them. Our job, the job she hired us to do, was purely to keep her information safe in case she needed it. So that’s what we did. Elle made a file for Carla’s information, and stored it away. None of this would have come out if you and your family hadn’t perverted the legal system to chase it.”

The commander spun back toward Lake, demented fury in his eyes. “Lake Benson, always so high and mighty. You think you’re better than everyone else.” He drew back his fist and swung at Lake’s jaw.

He sidestepped it easily as two young male officers rushed into the room to restrain the commander. “You always did signal your punches,” Lake told him.

Out in the corridor, a voice rose above the rest. “Someone take Commander Fitzwater to a cell while we clear up this mess.”

The two men holding him looked horrified but obeyed the order.

“You can’t do this to me,” Fitzwater yelled as they urged him into the corridor. “I’m in charge.”

“Not anymore,” said Assistant Commissioner Sturgis, as he appeared in the interview room doorway.

“He set me up,” Garry shouted as his officers led him away.

Sturgis strode into the room. “You just had to do this the messy way, didn’t you?” he said to Lake. “I’m sure we could have made this all go away without involving the press.” He turned to Ms. Patel. “I suppose that was your idea.”

She beamed at him. “What can I say? Guess strategic thinking runs in the family, Uncle Colin.”

The assistant commissioner sighed. “I should never have encouraged you to go into law. It’s caused me nothing but trouble.”

“Yes, but now you get to arrest two corrupt cops and a traitorous minister,” Patel said. “That should brighten up your day.”

The senior officer looked at Lake, suddenly somber. “We owe you for this.”

“Well, you can start paying off your debt by getting that hacker out of our server,” Lake said. “Then release my people too.”

“Nothing comes for free anymore,” the man grumbled as he offered Lake his hand.

Lake shook it. “I’ll have everything we’ve dug up on the Fitzwaters sent to your office. Carla has to be kept out of this though.”

“Carla? The madam who disappeared to a tropical island?” Sturgis shook his head. “I don’t have the manpower to chase her down. As of five minutes ago, I’m down two senior officers, not to mention I can’t ask the minister for police for more resources because he’ll be in jail too.”

“It’s a hard life, being in charge,” Lake said before giving him a slow, satisfied smile.

EPILOGUE

Instead of a debrief, almost everyone went to the hospital to meet baby Gwendolyn—after showering and changing because Rachel didn’t want any “filthy peasants” around her kid. The room was packed with people, which meant it was good Rachel had gotten her suite after all. And what a suite it was, Ryan thought as he raided the fully stocked kitchenette for snacks. All that was missing was their own personal butler.

Rachel had the TV on in the background, with continuous BBC updates on the scandal rocking British politics and law enforcement. There were cheers—muffled so as not to disturb the baby—when they showed footage offormerMinister Giles Fitzwater being led from his office in handcuffs.

Elle, who’d taken the attack on their server personally, was huddled in a corner with her precious laptop, searching for new server farms to store their data.

“What we need is at least one backup server,” she said to anyone who’d listen.

“That sounds expensive,” Callum grumbled.

“Not as expensive as the legal fees to get you out of prison would have been,” Elle replied cheerily.

“Could someone please fetch me a pair of sunglasses?” Rachel said. “Elle’s clothes are blinding me.”

Elle glanced down at her yellow jeans, boots, and fluffy yellow sweater. “It’s my freedom color. I’m wearing it until I get over my stint in a cell.” She shuddered at the memory.

“Please let that be soon,” Rachel said.

Rachel didn’t look like a woman who’d just given birth—although, to be fair, Ryan hadn’t been around too many of those, so he had no real point of reference. She did, however, look like royalty who’d just given birth. Her hair and makeup were worthy of a front-page photo in any tabloid newspaper, and she was dressed in deep-red silk pajamas. Through the door from the living room area, Ryan could see a hospital bed and all the usual medical equipment. Except the bedroom was much fancier, and there was a sofa in it too.