They’d done their job, invaded the suspect property and secured it. Now the case was back in his hands, at least until the director called the SAC again to question his competency. What did the SWAT commander mean, nobody’s there, but they were, not long ago? What had gone wrong? Barging into the crushed door of the shabby frame house, Streeter demanded a report. “Lot of shit in here you have to see,” the team leader started. “Hell, I don’t know where to start. This is real fucked up.” “Get on with it,” Streeter said, following the agent down a flight of cement stairs. “That informant, Talbott, looks like this is where he delivered the twin beds that your guys thought was a crock of bull.” Streeter felt his face turn red from anger, or was it embarrassment? “Didn’t mean for it to come out that way. We’re all just frustrated, that’s all. My men have been on call night and day. Then we get here too fucking late.” “Just show me what you’ve got.” Streeter had no time to indulge his ego.
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