“There’s nothing you can do for her now.”
A couple of medics standing nearby came at Knox’s beckon and led Grant outside.
“Do you think he’ll be okay?” Rivera asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Knox!”
They turned their attention to Norman Freeland, a member of the Bomb Squad, hobbling toward them.
“What a surprise to find you here,” the husky man panted when he reached them. A half-smoked cigarette hung from his mouth.
Knox yanked it out. “Damn it, Norman, hasn’t this place seen enough fire for one night? Take a look around; this is what your lungs probably look like, you freakin’ chain smoker.”
“Yeah, well, they probably look better than my liver.” He slipped another cigarette out of his pack with his teeth. “Come on; I wanna show you something.”
Knox and Rivera followed him to the center of the lobby, behind the courtesy desk. The moment Knox spied the burnt coil of material the word bomb came to mind. It had fragmented after the explosion. A strong stench of gasoline lingered in the air.
Rivera let out a low whistle. “What a mess.”
“You have no idea,” Freeland said, slipping out a pen from behind his ear. “See this?”
Knox and Rivera leaned over to look at where the tip of his pen pointed. Freeland tapped the burned piece of metal, which curved up like an ocean wave.
“This is a dispenser,” Freeland explained, his unlit cigarette flapping in his mouth. “Inside, it contains bomblets.” He reached inside the dispenser and took out half a cylindrical shell. “This sort of bomb is a MK-20 Rocketeye. It’s usually a free-fall weapon, but if it’s designed properly it can be a ground bomb.”
“What’s in it?” Rivera asked.
“Can’t you smell it? They filled the bomblet with iron oxide and aluminum.”
Rivera gave him a confused look. Freeland’s tiny mouth broke into a smile. “Gasoline compounds,” he said. “It’s how they turned this into an incendiary bomb. You can say they Frankensteined it. Creative.”
“Where would they get the bomb?” Rivera asked.
Freeland shrugged. “With the right chemist on their side, they could’ve built it themselves.”
“Even so, where would some two-bit thieves get the material to build it in the first place?”
“That’s the question of the day,” Freeland said.
While they spoke, Knox scanned the destruction around them.
“That’s a lot of trouble just to blow themselves up in the end,” Rivera said, shaking his head.
“Accidentally,” Freeland corrected, taking out his flashlight. “They accidentally blew themselves up. Look over here.”
He led them to the other side of the lobby, near the wall, where he leaned over and lifted a blue plastic tarp. He shined his light on the corpse beneath. “I think whoever this dumb fuck was he didn’t have the skill to set it up correctly. The blast blew him all the way over here.”
“What makes you think this is the bomb operator?” Rivera questioned.
“Look,” Freeland said, shining the light over the body. “The detonator is still in his hand.
“I don’t understand. Why not mention the bomb to Nelson to keep the SWAT team away? You’d think the only reason they’d risk bringing this kind of equipment in was to use it as leverage.”
Knox agreed, but something didn’t sit well in his mind. A nagging itch of suspicion began to irritate him.
“I don’t know,” Freeland admitted before finally lighting his cigarette. He inhaled. “I mean, everyone knows that once you enter a bank with a gun, scanners alert the authorities. They knew they were screwed the second they came in. My guess is that they planned to blow up the bank as a diversion while they escaped with the money. But as you can see, that plan went south when this stupid shit most likely set the timer wrong.”
Again, it sounded logical, but Knox couldn’t deny his instincts telling him that another story entirely had unfolded.
“We have a lot of cleanup to do here,” Freeland said. “I better get back to it.”
As he left to continue examining the bomb, Knox and Rivera went about their own investigation.
“You’re extremely quiet,” Rivera remarked. “What’s on your mind?”
Knox stopped and looked at him intently.
“You’re having one of your hunches again,” Rivera surmised.
“Yep. I think there’s something more than meets the eye here.”
Rivera snorted. “Meets the eye? That old phrase is still around? Man you are old.”
“I’m only thirty-eight,” he said petulantly. “I want you to stick around for awhile. Explore the building and see if you can find anything out of the norm.”
“Like what? I mean, what could I possibly find in this ninth circle of Hell?” Knox gave him another testy look. Rivera let loose a long breath. “Fine. I’ll snoop around just ’cause you’re having one of your infamous hunches.”
“Afterwards, go to the morgue,” he said, walking away. “I’ll call you in a little while.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’m gonna make a call.”
He left the bank, stepped into an alley, and reached into his pocket for his phone. Before he brought it out, a light flashed on him.
“Detective Knox!” Sakura called. “Can we have a minute of your time?”
The bright light of the camera shined in his eyes. He shielded his face with his hand. “Sakura, is that you? Jesus, how did you get past the cops?”
“The same way I always do; my girlish charm.”
“You bribed your way in.”
“You know me all too well.”
He’d been acquainted with Sakura Yoko for a long time. She’d interviewed him on many cases he’d worked on, and over time they’d developed a platonic relationship. They even sent each other Christmas cards.
Sakura pushed her Channel Eight microphone at him. “So, what can you tell us about what happened here tonight, Detective?”
“Not now,” he said, gently pushing the mike away.
“Aw, come on, you can tell me,” she said pleadingly.
“Yeah, you and the entire city,” he remarked, walking away. “Listen, I’m kind of busy right now. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Just a little something,” she goaded, running after him.
“I’m warning you,” he said in a lighthearted tone, “if you don’t leave me alone, I’ll have to take action against you.”
“Take action against me? What did I do?”
He finally slipped his hand out of his pocket and brought out a small voice recorder. He pressed PLAY so she could hear her own voice. The same way I always do; my girlish charm … You bribed your way in … You know me all too well.
He clicked a button with a mischievous grin. Sakura stared at him with wide eyes, her mouth agape. “It’s still illegal to bribe an officer.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” she gasped.
“Sakura,” Kenny called, rushing up to them.
“What is it?”
“I just overheard that some cops transporting a prisoner crashed their car and their prisoner escaped.”
“Really? When?”
“About an hour ago. You think we should go?”
She thought on it for a minute. “Might as well. Everyone else will be here for a while.”
“See?” Knox said, holding his smug look, “there’s always someone else out there to harass.” He walked away. “When I have something, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Liar!”
He didn’t reach the end of the alley before he made his call. “Hello, Judith? It’s Knox.”
“Knox? How are you? Heard you have your hands full uptown.”
“Yeah, and you’re about to get even busier when they bring those bodies to you.”
“Yeah, lucky me, eh?”
“Listen, I need you to do something for me.”
“Sh
oot.”
“When the bodies arrive, I need an immediate DNA test on the subjects. I’m sending Rivera over to call me as soon as you know their identities.”
“I can do that. But why so soon? Are you having one of your hunches again?”
“You can say that.”
“All right. I’ll have Rivera call you as soon as the results come in. It won’t take long.”
“I appreciate it. Thanks.” He ended the call and looked toward the wet alley running beside the bank, leading to the main street ahead.
His phone rang. It was Osborn. “Hey, Chief.”
“Where are you?”
“Standing at the back of the bank.”
“Meet me at the station immediately. I’m reassigning you.”
“Reassigning me? Why?”
“Trust me, you’ll want this case.”
The line went dead and he pulled the phone from his ear. He stared at it in bewilderment.
What the hell could be more important than this?
Chapter 6
Model 4020 stood at attention with his fellow Betas. They were dressed in solid black uniforms: black pants, combat boots, long-sleeve shirts, caps, and bulletproof vests. They armed themselves each with two 9mm handguns, loaded with 147-grain full-metal jacket boat-tail bullets, and one Panther LR-308T rifle with Phantom sound-suppressing silencers. Their greatest weapon was a heavyweight, large bore barrel Rocket Rifle that fired off miniature explosive rocket rounds. They were also equipped with additional ammo loaded inside backpacks.
Twenty’s dark eyes were pasted on Linden, who stood before the Betas with Loren Waver beside him, holding an uneasy expression on her face. 4020 sensed she was troubled about something.
“Each of you has the potential to be a fine soldier,” Linden said, his hands clasped behind him. “Now that you’ve been equipped, I expect you to prove yourselves by completing your mission. Go into the city, make no contact with anyone, and find the surviving Alphas.”
The opportunity to hunt the Alphas electrified Twenty’s nerves with excitement. Although completely obedient, he was restless. He’d wanted to go after the Alphas when they’d escaped, but he’d been ordered to stand down.
He knew he was more efficient than the others. Linden told him that after he had personally programmed him. Now was his chance to prove his skills to him—his father.
“After you’ve found one and destroyed it, contact us. We’ll come for the body. Understood?”
“Yes, Doctor Linden,” the Betas replied, except for Twenty who merely nodded.
“Now, go,” Linden ordered. “Split into pairs and spread out in the city.”
“Yes, Doctor Linden.”
As they left, Twenty’s sensitive hearing caught Waver speaking to Linden.
“Are you sure this is a good idea? I’m nervous about letting them out in public. If people found out about this, it could mean the end of our work.
“Nervous?” Linden said. “I’m rather excited about it. This is an opportunity to measure just how evolved the Betas are over the Alphas. Especially Twenty.”
“Why?” Waver inquired. “What’s so special about him?”
Linden turned sharply and walked out with the Betas. “Don’t worry about it.”
Twenty ran with his fellow Replicas to the island’s boathouse. The cold air on his face shot adrenaline into his very core. This night was his first time out of the lab, first time into the city that he’d only seen through windows. He couldn’t wait to be in the city. He couldn’t wait to make his first kill.
They got into high-powered speedboats docked in the island’s boathouse, then cut through the water over to Horns Hook. Another boathouse and garage were located on the riverbank where the Replicas climbed into ten black vans. When the steel doors lifted, they drove out onto the FDR.
The hunt was on.
The Channel Eight News van arrived at the scene of the crash in record time. When Geiger spotted it, he said, “Media’s here.”
“It’s about time they overheard us,” came Osborn’s voice through his headset.
“You want us to tell them everything?” Geiger asked.
“Yes, idiot. The faster we get that kid’s face on the screen, the faster we can get him back in custody. Answer their questions, but don’t give too many details about the crash. Say nothing about the thing that took Crowe. Just state that you lost control of the car when the tire blew, and that Crowe had managed to get away. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
Sakura ran up to them. “Officers! Can I ask you a few questions about the crash and the escaped prisoner?”
Geiger looked at his partner, letting Cooper know he would answer her questions. He stepped forward and said, “Of course.”
Sakura slowed to a halt and sighed with relief. “Oh, good. I’m absolutely bored with the bank coverage.”
Geiger smiled. “I think you’re going to be pleasantly surprised with our story.”
“Why? What happened?”
“We were transporting a prisoner to the station when our tire blew. I lost control of the car, as you can see. We were knocked out, and when we woke up, the prisoner had escaped.”
Sakura slid her eyes over to the totaled car, wrapped around a light pole. Glass from the shattered windows sprinkled the road, and the back of the roof had been torn open like a cheap sunroof.
“What happened to the roof?”
“Uh, the car flipped. I guess the roof somehow got sliced open.”
“The car flipped because the tire blew? How did it flip back over and then run into the pole?”
Geiger’s palms began to sweat.
“Would you like to know about the person we were transporting?”
“Sure.”
Relieved that he had derailed her, he looked her dead in the eye. “It was Jade Sho’s killer.”
Her eyes widened. After a moment of silence, she managed to say in a weak voice, “Jade Sho? The mayor’s daughter?”
“Yep, and I’m sure you won’t mind letting us use your air time getting the public’s attention about the killer.”
She shook her head as slowly as her words. “Not-at-all.”
He rehearsed what he needed to say while the cameraman set up and Sakura freshened her makeup. He felt cool and composed. The light of the camera went on and she began her interview.
“Good evening, I’m Sakura Yoko. I’m standing here on East 92nd Street, where a dangerous fugitive has escaped police custody. Earlier this evening, as the prisoner was being transported to Midtown North, the police car suffered a serious crash.”
The camera panned out to show Geiger standing next to her. She turned to him and said, “Here with me is Officer Nathan Geiger, the driver of the car you can see behind us. Officer, tell us what happened this evening.”
“My partner and I were in the process of transporting a prisoner when the tire blew and I lost control of the car. Both Officer Cooper and I were temporarily unconscious. When we came to, the suspect had disappeared.”
“That isn’t the real story here,” Sakura cut in, looking back at the camera. “The real shock is what the fugitive is accused of.” Again, she turned back to him. “Officer, tell us who the suspect is.”
He lowered his head in silence for a moment.
“Tell her,” Osborn urged through the headset.
Geiger looked directly at the camera. “A suspect by the name of Nikolai Crowe …”
When the interview was over, Sakura thanked the officer and pulled Kenny aside. “Send the footage to Trevor immediately.”
“I’m already there,” he said, hurrying over to the van.
Sakura got on the phone and called the news director of Channel Eight News.
“Yoko?” Greene answered. “Where the hell have you been? You’re supposed to be at the bank.”
“Trevor, listen to me,” she urged. “I’ve got something so hot it’ll melt the eyes right out of your face.”
“It better be ho
tter than the bank robbery. Literally.”
“It is,” she promised. “Kenny is sending footage to you right now.”
To her relief, she heard his computer beep through the phone, letting him know he had an e-mail message. He blew out a long, frustrated breath as he opened the Message inbox. He went silent as the footage played. She stayed on the line, biting her nails, while hearing nothing but her own interview with Geiger.
“Holy shit, Yoko, this is absolutely stupendous!” he shouted, sending a shockwave into her eardrum. “We’ll air this right away. Good work.”
“Thanks,” she said, and ended her call.
“What did he say?” Kenny asked when she got into the van.
“He said he’ll put it on the air right away. Come on, let’s find Knox.”
“Knox? Why?”
She shot him a look as she shut the passenger door. “Knox and the mayor are friends. Who else is going to be assigned to it?”
“Are you sure you want Knox to search for the kid?” Shaw asked, sitting in Osborn’s office in the Midtown North Precinct. “I mean, he’s too damn honest for his own good, and he’s one of the best detectives in this goddamn city.”
“It’s the mayor’s call, not mine,” Osborn said. “He’s the one who wants him assigned. I’m not thrilled about it, but maybe Lucas won’t get suspicious. Besides, we’ve already gone over a contingency plan if he does.”
There was a knock at the door and Osborn called for the person to enter.
“All right, Howard, I’m here,” Knox said, peeking into the room. “What’s up?” He opened the door all the way to spot Shaw sitting in one of the chairs in front of Osborn’s desk. “Shaw, how are you?”
Knox shook Shaw’s hand when the detective stood. “Fine, I suppose. It’s been awhile. I think the last time I saw you, besides on TV, of course, is when you got those medals.”
Osborn wished he hadn’t brought that up.
Knox had received the Silver Star for Bravery and the Criminal Investigation Award after uncovering a major drug smuggling ring at the Ancient shipping pier near New York Central Railroad.
The Warning Page 6