Nigel had great empathy for the victims of crimes because he found it easy to put himself in their shoes. The heartsick pain, the torture of not knowing, the ache of loss, the emptiness, the loose ends in some cases that were never tied up leaving an open wound that could not quite heal.
Although he’d witnessed any number of these scenarios, each time was as fresh and real as the last encounter which buoyed him and his team again and again to do more, to be better, to give closure to as many as possible and sometimes it was inevitable that death was the closure.
He watched June furtively. She wasn’t the type to wear her emotions on her sleeve and he’d had to dig deeper watch more closely for tell tale signs of what she was feeling. Nigel wasn’t sure if this was her regular response, one relating to the current situation or him in particular. If she held her emotions (this tightly to the vest) she could have trouble coping later.
“My men are closing in on the 3rd to
“How far are we from their location?”
“Twenty miles give or take.”
“That won’t take long to cover,” June responded hopefully. “I know we can’t go tonight, but if we’re up early enough, we could handle it.”
“My men are going in first, June. They need to gather intel, find out how many we’re dealing with, get a lay of the land so we don’t go poking our heads in an unknown situation and get our guys shot.”
June was silent. It was very real now. No more wondering, pondering, overthinking, it was what it was. One wrong move could get them killed and for the first time since the beginning, she felt it in her gut, like a body slam. She wondered if this was how it felt with Nigel and his team every time they went after some lost soul. She’d loved to have asked, but that might give him ammunition to keep her out of the loop and that she wouldn’t consider.