Page 47 of Newly Tied

“So,” Ching began, glancing from me to Lang. “You two don’t need sleep?”

Lang shrugged. “No, sir. We run on adrenaline.”

Ching scoffed. “Okay, so you two don’t come in unless absolutely necessary. There are tactical vests under your seats. Put them on, but unless I give the call, stay in the vehicle with the girl.”

He didn’t have to tell me twice.

We did as we were told, watching as six groups of four men, with SWAT backing them up, swarmed the front stoop of the building, leaving a phalanx of Kevlar-clad CPD officers on the front, and others on the rear and both sides of the building to catch anyone trying to escape.

Easy to see that CPD had been first on site, cordoning off the building, creating the perimeter.

“They are going to take all the gang members from the building?” Carmen asked me.

“Yep. They certainly are.”

“But my father went to the police many times to report the gang members. Why were they not taken any of those times?”

“You have to catch them in the act or, like this, have a credible threat to safety.”

She nodded. “My uncle, he is coming from Bogotá next week, to help my father take care of the men.”

“You’re not from Venezuela?”

She shook her head. “No. We’re from Colombia. We came three years ago. I am a citizen, so are my brothers and sister and my mother, but my father and grandmother, we are still working on those. Hopefully within the next six months. It helps that the rest of us are already citizens.”

Lang nodded.

“But if my grandmother and father are asked for⁠—”

“They won’t be. We won’t let that happen.”

“What about Marta and her family? They are from Venezuela and arrived here not too long ago.”

“No again. They’re evacuatin’ the buildin’, but no one is gonna get taken away who isn’t part of the gang.”

As I looked out the window, I saw the Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents walking the perimeter along with Homeland Security. But I was relieved when I saw our boss, Ian Doyle, get out of a Chevy Suburban with his boss, Chris Becker, both outfitted in helmets and Kevlar. Their presence meant that the marshals were in charge and that everyone else, including the DEA I now saw joining the team, had to follow our lead.

Ian jogged up the front stoop and into the building. Moments later, when the first people started to be led from the building, I realized there were two lines, one going to the right, to CPD, and the other to the left, to Homeland and ICE. That quickly after Ian had gone into the building, he was sorting people as they came down the stairs. It was easier to evacuate the whole building than try and figure out who should be there and who should not, and I explained that to Carmen so she wouldn’t be scared.

An ICE agent crossed to the side where a man was holding a baby, and instantly a CPD officer intercepted him, shaking her head, pointing back the other way. When he took hold of the man’s bicep anyway, Dorsey walked over, doing exactly what the officer had, shaking his head and pointing away. When the ICE agent stood his ground—Dorsey was, after all, only a deputy US marshal like the rest of us—our supervisory deputy, Chris Becker, crossed the area with that stride he had, like Kage, where everyone scurried out of the way so they didn’t get eviscerated. Dorsey tipped his head that way, and the moment the ICE guy saw Becker, he lifted his hands and walked away.

“That man must be scary,” Carmen commented to me.

“You have no idea,” I replied.

“That’s good,” she said, smiling.

Becker went over to the man with the baby, whom Dorsey was protecting, and said something to which there was a lot of nodding and even a slight smile. Then Becker stepped back and, with his arms out, addressed the group. You could see it, on everyone’s face, the sense of relief. Homeland and ICE were there for the bad guys, no one else. Chicago was a sanctuary city, after all.

“There they are,” Carmen yelled excitedly.

“Lang,” the radio in the BearCat chirped at the same time. Lang moved from where he was, on the other side of Carmen at the window, over to the dash.

“Go ahead, Ching.”

“Your girl’s family should be coming down the stairs now. I informed them that she was safe. Don’t have her join them, though. She’s a witness now, and depending on what happens here, we⁠—”

We all heard it then—machine-gun fire. Everyone dropped to the ground, and no one moved as the firing continued.