GOTU - A Robin Marlette Novel by Mike McNeff Read Free Book Online Page A

it be worth my while?”
    “Well, asshole, since Sunday is your day off, you'll at least get overtime.”
    “Good point! When and where?”
    “I need you and two of your guys at our hideout as soon as you can.”
    “Okay, but just tell me this. Is this another one of your wild-assed marathon shit storms?”
    “It looks like it.”
    Robin could hear Ernie take a deep breath. “Goddamn, Marlette. I don't know why I let you get me into these things.”
    “You do it because you're a hard chargin,' raggedy ass street cop like me, Ernie. So quit fuckin' around and get moving.”
    “Okay, dickhead. We'll see you in about an hour or so.”
    “Good. Adios.”
    “Bye.”
    Robin finished his paperwork and walked out to the undercover van the department issued him, a new 1988 tan one-ton Chevrolet complete with built-in surveillance equipment and gear lockers built to Robin's specifications. Ten minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot of the Casablanca Motel. The owner of the Casablanca let the Guardians have two adjoining rooms for free. At one time, the owner's daughter became hooked on cocaine. The Guardians put her dealer in prison for fifteen years.
    Robin went to room 268 and knocked twice, paused, and knocked once. Emmett answered the door, his muscular six-four frame filling the opening.
    “Where is Newman?” Robin asked.
    “He's asleep.”
    “Jackson and two of his guys are on the way to relieve you.”
    “Sounds good.”
    Robin looked over at John Lucheck, sound asleep in a chair.
    “He tried to stay awake,” shrugged Emmett, “but he just couldn't overcome his federal training.”
    “He'll be all right,” chuckled Robin.
    Emmett walked over to the small refrigerator in the room and took out two beers. He tossed one over to Robin. Emmett lifted his can as a toast and said, “To celebrate the start of a great case.” Robin lifted his can and took a swallow of the cold beer. He pulled out his .45 and laid it on the table. When he wore street clothes, as he did now, he carried his gun in a Bruce Nelson Summer Special holster worn inside his pants. Taking the gun out eased the pressure around his waist. Robin sat down in one chair and propped his feet up on another. He could feel the tension leaving his body.
    The two men sat at the table and discussed the general strategy of the new case. Emmett's report of Newman's debriefing impressed Robin. The several people he named were very powerful in politics and business. Newman acted as the bagman for the payoffs to these people. If they could get the additional evidence they needed to make this case airtight, it would be the best case yet.
    Although both men were relaxing, they were alert to sounds outside the room, listening for anything out of place. Once, somebody walked by the room and both men silently and swiftly moved into defensive positions. The footsteps stopped momentarily and then moved on. Robin and Emmett sat down again after visually clearing the outside through the windows and the peep hole in the door.
    About a half an hour later, they heard more footsteps. Emmett moved behind the wall that separated the bathroom from the main room. Robin stood against the door jam. Both officers had their weapons ready. The confidential knock sounded through the door.
    “Yo!” said Robin.
    “Yo ho, mate!” Robin looked through the peephole to see Ernie making ridiculous faces on the other side. Robin opened the door to let Ernie in, along with Rocky Barnett and Marv Allen of Ernie's squad. As they walked in, all three men's eyes were sizing up the environment of the motel room. Emmett came from behind the wall, to Rocky's and Marv's nods of approval. Rocky looked at John Lucheck, still fast asleep, and said, “fucking Feds.” He went over and kicked Lucheck on the bottom of his foot.
    “Wake up, Special Agent Lucheck, time to go home.” Rocky did not say “Special Agent” with the reverence which some federal officers are fond.
    Robin began to