Page 25 of The Scrooge Effect

“And we’re doing what, exactly?” I asked. “If we make any moves with kids around, someone’s gonna get killed.”

“You will not do anything other than slip trackers onto as many stockings as possible. Only the ones with drugs. It’s an easy undercover mission that, once you’re done, you’ll walk out as if you were never there. And since you’ll arrive in your suits, no one will know you were ever there.

“From there, IRIS, Slider, and Thumper will move in on Moreno and take him down.”

“What about the others?”

“We’ll hand over the information to local P.D., but we will not approach the dealers. They’re small fish. The goal is to get Moreno, and only Moreno. If we catch him, he’ll lead us to whoever is importing these drugs.”

“If we’re already there, why don’t we just take him down?”

“The idea is to get Moreno away from the church without any idea what we’ve done. There will be no casualties on this mission. Which means we need to follow Moreno to his home base once he leaves the church. We figure that after he’s distributed the stockings, he’ll have cash to unload, and he won’t want to hang onto it. He’ll most likely take it to a safe house where he can stash it for the night. That’s when IRIS, Slider, and Thumper will move in.”

I nodded in agreement, studying the scumbag on the page. I fucking hated drug dealers, but more than that, I hated that he was posing as doing something good while sending lethal drugs onto the streets.

“You have two days to get your houses in order, then you leave and head for The Star Motel just a mile away from the church. Since we’re laying low, we’ve got some special vehicles for you this time that won’t draw too much attention.”

He put another picture on the screen that made all of us groan.

“A station wagon?” Lock snapped.

“Oh, and that’s not the best part. Scottie will be flying you down⁠—”

“No!” he said, shoving back in his seat. “We talked about this, Cash. No more planes. You promised.”

“But you got over your tactical vomit. What’s the problem?”

“The problem?” he scoffed. “The problem is that the more I fly, the more I hate it. Which means that one of these days, tactical vomit will return, and it’ll come back stronger than before. And I’ll have to put up plastic between the cockpit and everyone else. I can’t go back to that, Cash. I can’t!”

“Okay, okay,” he shushed Scottie, rubbing his shoulders as he pushed him back into the chair. “We’ll figure something out.”

“You’d better, because I’m not doing that again.”

He nodded and walked back to the front, winking at Lock. This was going to end so badly. I could already feel it.

“As for the Santa suits,” he said, looking directly at me. “You can keep them when the mission is over.”

“Oh, really fucking funny, Cash.”

I pushed back from my chair, but Cash called out to me, stopping me before I could leave. I already knew what was coming. It was written all over his face. He waited for the door to close before he started in.

“I’m not signing the fucking paperwork.”

He nodded, crossing his arms over his chest as he sat on the edge of the table. “Actually, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh. Well, then shoot.”

“I uh…I got a call from Harper. She says she’s pregnant.”

I didn’t like that look on his face. The judgment. The knowledge that I wasn’t handling shit well.

“And?”

“And she said you haven’t been putting up the Christmas decorations.”

“Is that right?” I huffed.

“Edu…we do this for the kids. I don’t give a shit if you like it or not. You have two days until you leave. Go home and put up the fucking outdoor lights. I’ll even send some guys over to help.”