“Kay Revell speaking.”
“Kay, it’s Knox.”
“Lucas? Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, listen; I need your help on something. Do you remember anyone by the name of Douglas Crawford?”
“The name sounds familiar. Does he have something to do with Jade?”
“Not sure. The name itself made me think to call you. I really can’t tell you why, but it’s important.”
A pause fell over their conversation. Knox hoped she hadn’t forgotten her offer to help if he needed it.
“If it’s important, I’ll look him up for you. I’m still at the mayor’s apartment with Claudia. She’s a real mess.”
“I can imagine she would be. Don’t tell anyone that I called looking for this guy. I don’t want Sho or his wife to get their hopes up.”
“I understand. I’ll do a little snooping around and get back to you as soon as I can.”
“All right, thanks.”
“Who’s Kay?” Kincaid asked.
“An old friend of the Shos.”
“Another lucky strike?”
“I would say so.”
“What links Kay to Douglas?”
“Most likely nothing,” he said a second before his phone rang. “But something about him reminded me of her.” He pressed TALK without checking the name and put the phone to his ear.
“Knox,” Osborn shouted. “They’ve got Crowe trapped!”
He shot up from the chair, sending it wheeling and crashing into the desk behind him. “Where?”
“At the old T-shirt factory in Port Morris. Do you remember where it is?”
He did. He’d gone there to investigate his first murder case when the remains of a young woman had been found inside the building. “Yeah, I’m on my way.” He pressed END while running for the door.
“Knox,” Kincaid called. “What’s happening?”
“They’ve cornered Crowe. I have to get to him before something bad happens.”
With a four million dollar reward stacked on him, along with the statement the mayor had given about bringing him in, in any shape or form, the chances that Crowe would be killed in a blaze of gunfire were inevitable.
Chapter 13
Ebenezer lifted the manhole cover and slid it across the street, emerging from the sewers with Nikolai following closely behind.
“I feel like a Ninja Turtle,” Nikolai remarked, pulling himself onto the road.
The Replica turned to him. “A what?”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Nothing.”
Ebenezer clutched his side and hunched a bit.
“Are you all right?”
“The bones in my face are broken in several places. Four of my ribs are cracked, and my shoulder is dislocated.”
Nikolai studied Ebenezer. His face was barely recognizable. It appeared as if his cheekbones and nose had collapsed. His eyes were shot with red and blood painted his face. He kept himself doubled over with his arm hanging lifelessly at his side.
Nikolai cringed.
“Eb, you’re seriously fucked up. We have to get you some help.”
“I don’t need medical attention,” he said before pitching forward.
Nikolai dove in and caught him. He had to use all his strength just to lift him up. “Come on. We’re going to see my sister.”
They reached a parking garage owned by a nightclub across the way. Booming music pulsated through the walls. They kept from drawing attention by staying on the opposite side of the street.
“Let’s cut through here,” Nikolai suggested, stopping by a short wall.
He propped Ebenezer against the wall before jumping over it and into the dimly lit parking garage. “Come on. I can’t lift you over.”
“You should go on without me,” Ebenezer urged. “Go to the bridge and find your answers.”
He considered the suggestion. He needed to find out what was going on before he was either arrested or killed, but he couldn’t bring himself to abandon Ebenezer. He’d become more than just a protector; he became a friend. “I’m not leaving without you.”
“Go,” Ebenezer pleaded. “Please, just go.”
“Fine. If you won’t come on, we’ll just have to wait until someone recognizes me.” He leaned against the wall. “Man, my head is getting hot under this hood. Maybe I should slip it off.”
“You’re an asshole,” Ebenezer muttered.
Nikolai turned to him with wide eyes. “Whoa, getting in some new vocabulary?”
The Replica gave him a dirty look but didn’t argue. Instead, he struggled to bring himself over the wall. Nikolai helped pull him over until they both fell to the ground. His torso caved in as the heavy Replica lay on top of him.
“Get off me,” Nikolai said through gritted teeth.
Ebenezer rose slowly to his feet, wavering a bit. “Why are we in here?”
Nikolai stood and brushed himself off. “We’re going to steal a car. Come on.”
They stayed low and raced between the parked cars. When reaching the row farthest from the street, Nikolai examined a few cars until deciding on the right one.
“This is an old car. It needs a key to get in. Now we need something to jimmy the—”
The passenger door opened and Ebenezer got in. “It’s unlocked.”
Nikolai opened the driver’s side door and slid in next to Ebenezer as he hot-wired the car. The engine came to life with a low rumble. “Done this before?”
Ebenezer didn’t answer. He leaned his body against the door as Nikolai shifted the gear into drive and slowly pulled out of the parking slot.
He paid the parking fee at the automatic gate and drove onto the street. Once they were far enough from the nightclub, he took out the hospital phone and pressed his sister’s number.
“Doctor Crowe.”
“It’s me. I need your help. I have a friend who’s pretty banged up.”
“Hey, Dr. Houghton,” she said. A door opened and closed in the background. “Are you all right?” she asked, her voice coming in at a low whisper. “I thought you might have been arrested.”
“Nope. Got away. Is it safe to see you?”
“No, of course it isn’t safe, but you managed to get here once before. What’s wrong with your friend?”
“He got into a fight with someone. He’s hurt bad.”
“Who is he?”
He couldn’t tell her that his friend was an escaped human clone without frightening her. “He’s … he’s a good friend of mine. He saved my life.”
Ebenezer looked at him from the window. “No one has referred to me as a friend before, nor appreciated anything I’ve done. You’re different; you’re grateful for my help.”
“Shush,” he hissed.
“Okay, bring him in,” Jean said. “I’ll meet you on the south side of the hospital parking garage. Get to the elevator and go down to the lower level.”
“South side parking garage, lower level, got it. Thanks.” He pressed END and heard a loud pop to his right. “What the hell was that?”
“My cheekbones,” Ebenezer explained. “The bones in my face are settling back into place.”
“Doesn’t that hurt?”
“Very much so.”
He returned his attention to the road. “Those things back at the prison, they were like you?”
“Yes. They’re the Betas. The one you shot is Forty Twenty. A newer model.”
“Does that mean these Betas are stronger than you?”
“Much stronger and faster.”
“Great,” he said with a sigh. “Now there’s a four million dollar reward out for me and those things on my ass?”
“No,” Ebenezer corrected. “They weren’t after you. They’ve been sent to find the Alphas. Most likely, I wasn’t the first they discovered. That’s why I wanted you to leave me behind. I can no longer protect you. If we’re discovered again, you will be in great danger.”
* * * * *
Knox’s car screeched up
to the old T-shirt factory, next to other parked police cars.
“Knox!” Osborn called as he got out.
“Where is he?” he asked, rushing toward the building.
“Mason spotted him and chased him in there.”
Knox stopped dead in his tracks. “What was Mason doing away from his post? Wasn’t he supposed to be at Sho’s apartment?”
Osborn shrugged. “Guess he wanted the reward.”
Knox studied the area. He expected the building to be surrounded by the entire NYPD, even SWAT. Instead, there were only a handful of cop cars, no dogs, not even a single helicopter.
“What’s the deal? I’ve seen more commotion at a department store sale.”
“It’s a delicate situation. These are the only officers I can trust not to try anything stupid. The mayor’s reward has gotten everyone trigger happy, and I don’t need a bunch of cops with money on their minds clouding their judgment. That’s how accidents happen.”
“So, no one’s gone inside?”
“No. I’d hoped you’d do the honors. Go in and try getting the kid out alive. I think bringing him in breathing would be more gratifying to the mayor.”
Knox turned his attention to the building. He felt no real danger going in alone. Crowe had had the chance to take his life once before but had let him live. His only concern was the Replica, who might also be in the building.
“I’ll go.”
He found an unlocked metal door and went into the factory, entering a void of pure darkness. He held his gun in one hand and a flashlight in the other. Cautiously, he moved to the heart of the factory and panned the light over the dusty machinery. Over the years rain dripping through holes in the ceiling had rusted the equipment, giving the chilling illusion that he was walking through a sunken submarine, the lingering spirit of a sailor forever wandering the place.
At a large silk-screening machine, he heard the sound of something heavy hitting the floor upstairs. He flashed his light upward, to where the sound came from a metal railing.
“Crowe? It’s me, Knox.” He moved toward the staircase. “I’m not here to hurt you, but if you don’t give yourself up, you run the risk of getting killed.” At the stairwell, he aimed his gun and flashlight up. He stopped before climbing. “Crowe, are you there?”
A shot rang out. Sparks flew from the handrail where the bullet struck. He jumped away and ran as more shots fired.
He returned fire as he ran. When he did, the shots stopped, giving him the opportunity to reach cover behind a steel column. The shots came at him again, echoing loud and fierce. He leaned against the column, feeling the metal vibrate as the bullets ricocheted off it.
The gunfire ceased. Taking advantage of the opening, he flung himself around the side of the column and pulled the trigger. He didn’t know the gunman’s precise location, but he fired in his direction until the clip emptied. Then he flung himself back around the column to reload. He expected the gunman to resume shooting, but nothing happened. He replaced his empty clip with a new one and waited. The only sound was his own heavy breathing.
He was reminded of the shoot-out at the docks between an army of drug smugglers and officers. The bullet he’d taken that night had been meant for Osborn, but he’d pushed the chief out of its path. The injury had nearly killed him. Now, trapped in a similar situation, he hoped he wouldn’t suffer the same fate or worse.
It’d been silent for a while. The gunman must have run out of ammunition. He listened for the sound of escaping footsteps but heard nothing.
“Knox!” Osborn’s voice came over the radio. “We heard shots. Are you all right?”
He wiped sweat from his face with his sleeve and quickly reached under his coat for his radio. “I’m fine. I think the shooter is heading out the back.”
“Copy that. I’ll let them know. We’re on our way in.”
Knox tore himself from his cover and approached the stairwell again. It was a stupid move, but he needed Crowe alive. More cops were coming, and if he didn’t catch Crowe before they did, the risk of him getting killed would only increase.
His gun shook as he bent over to retrieve the flashlight he’d dropped at the base of the stairs. Slowly, he made his way up the steps, shining the light at the platform above.
Why did he shoot at me? It doesn’t seem right.
He didn’t know much about Crowe, only what he’d read in his file. But if Crowe wanted him dead, he wouldn’t have called the Replica off in the hospital parking garage.
He kept his composure as he stepped onto the platform, his weapon out in front of him. He walked to a hallway and shined the light down it. There were four doors, two on both sides, and a single open window at the end. He shifted the light ahead and spotted someone on the floor.
“Shit,” he said, dropping to his knees beside the fallen man in an officer’s uniform. Turning the man over, he discovered it was Mason with a single gunshot wound to his chest. He checked for a pulse.
“Officer down! Officer down!” he shouted into his radio. “I need a medic in here now!”
He knew Mason was dead the moment he’d turned his body over. What he didn’t understand was why Mason hadn’t announced himself when he’d called out to Crowe. And why was Mason shooting at him? It just didn’t make any damn sense.
Several minutes went by and his nerves continued to tremor.
Crowe wasn’t in the building, but several officers were. The air was thick with discussion and speculation. Knox tried ignoring their judgmental stares by keeping his eyes on the body.
“You told me Mason chased him here,” he said. “You didn’t tell me he was actually in the building.”
“I didn’t know he was,” Osborn said. “But like I said, Mason wanted the reward.” He was silent for a moment. “This is bad, Lucas. There’s going to be questions.”
“He was shooting at me.”
“How do you know it was him?” Osborn fired back. “He could’ve heard the shots and come to back you up.”
“Are you suggesting there was another shooter? I searched every room up here. I didn’t see anyone.”
A deep silence came between them, until Osborn spoke. “My guess is that Crowe was hiding in one of these rooms and slipped out while Mason searched for him. He must’ve come across you and opened fire. Once Mason was down, Crowe simply went out through the window and down the fire escape. Our people are scouring the area for him.” He turned away. “Maybe Crowe shot the poor bastard on his way to the window. We’ll match the bullet from Mason to determine who actually did him in.”
It didn’t make sense. It was possible Mason had tried to save him, only to be shot, but he highly doubted Crowe had been anywhere near the old factory.
“The press is going to have a field day with this,” Osborn said grimly.
Nikolai pulled into the south side parking garage and stopped the car near the elevator. He kept his hood up to prevent his face from being caught by the security cameras as he helped Ebenezer to the elevator. During their long journey down, Eb gasped.
“Are you all right?”
“My ribs are moving back into place,” Ebenezer said, lifting his shirt. “Feel.”
“No, really,” Nikolai protested, “I believe you.”
Ebenezer grabbed his hand and pressed it against his side where something moved under the skin, like a baby shifting in a womb. The sensation gave him the creeps, and he snatched his hand back. “Goddamn, that’s crazy.”
“It’s a shame my creator didn’t use this process to help your kind.”
“Yeah, well, it always sucks when someone has the means to do something good but instead uses their power for their own benefit,” he replied as the doors opened. Jean was waiting halfway down the hall.
She raced toward them. “Thank God, you’re all right. I thought …” She stopped and stared at Ebenezer, doubled over with his arm wrapped around his abdomen. Her complexion paled.
“Is something wrong?” Nikolai asked.
She shook her head. “It’s nothing. Come on, we don’t have much time. They could call me back up any minute.” She turned and walked ahead of them. When she reached the end of the hall, she used her identification card to unlock a steel door.
“What’s in there?”
“The old section of the hospital.” She pulled the door handle down. “This used to be the E.R. before the earthquake.”
She entered the darkness and clicked on several portable lamps hanging from the ceiling. The first thing Nikolai noticed was the information desk, which had a dusty blue tarp over it. Table saws, ladders, toolboxes, and other construction materials littered the room.
“They plan to make this our new basement,” she explained, clicking on another light near an examining room. “This way.”
Nikolai helped Ebenezer through a jungle of extension cords to where Jean stood by an open doorway. She allowed him and Ebenezer to enter first. “Take a seat on the table.”
Ebenezer lifted himself onto the dusty table. The sanitizing paper crinkled and tore as he climbed onto it.
Jean turned to Nikolai. “Bring me one of those lights.”
He left to fetch a lamp. When he returned, he joined Ebenezer by the table and turned where Jean stood by the door. “Aren’t you coming in?”
She took a deep breath and stepped forward, putting her medical bag on the table, next to Ebenezer. “Bring the light over to his face,” she said, shuffling through the bag.
He held the light up near Ebenezer’s face. She took a step back to get a better look as she pulled on a pair of latex gloves.
“Tell me what’s wrong with you,” she said in a small voice.
“Don’t be afraid of me,” Ebenezer said. “I can sense the unease in your voice.”
“Uh, Eb,” Nikolai said, “now’s not the time to throw out stuff like that.”
With a trembling hand, Jean lightly touched his cheekbone and slid a finger up to his temple. “You have multiple skull fractures,” she said, taking his head in both hands and pulling it down to examine the top of his scalp. “What were you hit with? A bat?”
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