BLUES

SaBella's POV:

I slipped on my jacket, my fingers brushing the course material as I stood beside my motorcycle in the SWAT parking lot, enjoying the quiet before the ride.

"Bella!" Bishop's voice cut through the silence, using my name—my real name.

There were times I nearly forgot I had a name outside of work. "Sama" was all they saw: the detached, ruthless operator. A monster with a name and a purpose. And that's exactly what I am.

"Paul," I replied, turning to him with my usual calm, controlled voice. "What's up?"

"Bell, can we talk?" he asked as he approached.

"Always," I replied with quiet confidence. "Is something on your mind?"

"It's the captain..." Paul sighed, scratching the back of his neck. He looked torn, and I could already see where this was going.

I kept my expression neutral and approachable, a mask I wore well. No one needed to see more than what I allowed. "What about her?" I asked, keeping my voice soft and even.

"She's not SWAT," he said, his voice tinged with frustration. "She doesn't have our training, Bell. I don't think she understands the job... and what if she orders the wrong—"

I lifted a hand, stopping him. "Paul, I've got it," I said with calm assurance. "You don't need to worry about her. I'm your team leader, and I'll keep her in line. I know it's unconventional for Jonas to bring in someone who's never been in SWAT, but this is what we've been given. Just focus on the team and your own job. Let me handle the captain."

Paul exhaled, looking slightly relieved but embarrassed. "Thanks, Bell. I know it's... silly to worry."

I held his gaze, giving a small nod. "It's not silly at all, Paul. I need to know how my team feels. Your concerns are mine too," I replied, my tone steady. "And Paul—about the team lead position. I know you've been hoping for it. I'm sorry."

"Don't," he cut in quickly. "This is my team, Bell. SWAT is family, no matter who's leading."

"SWAT is family," I agreed. For me, the only family that mattered.

"Say hi to the wife and kids for me," I added, allowing myself a faint smile.

"They miss their Auntie Belly. You should stop by soon." He smiled, stepping back.

"I know, I know," I replied with a nod, watching as he turned and headed toward the building.

"Night, Bell," he called over his shoulder.

"Night, Paul." I mounted my black MTT 420-RR, letting the engine growl to life, and then took off smoothly down the road.

I preferred motorcycles. They let me blend into the city, allowed me to be untraceable.

But my thoughts weren't on the road tonight. They were on her—the captain.

How she affects this team. How she commands without understanding. How she tried to confront me.

And how, as much as I hate to admit it, I don't trust her.

The city lights blurred past as I rode, the hum of the engine in my chest steadying my thoughts. I'd gone through Colette's file the second her name hit the roster—of course, she wouldn't know that. It was the kind of intel I kept for myself, filed away like every other piece of knowledge I'd gathered on my team. She was military—Navy SEAL, had done time in special ops, and she'd managed to climb her way into the detective's division in record time. It was impressive enough on paper, but not a single piece of her background sat right with me for SWAT.