by CJ Lyons
But then again, she couldn’t believe she was either. Lucy was going to owe her big time after this.
<><><>
As Jenna shoved Andre down the stairs beneath the rectory, Andre could hear Lucy and Haddad arguing inside the classroom. They’d put the two kids in the bathroom and barricaded them inside, leaving Mad Dog in a second, smaller classroom behind the first. Where hopefully he heard everything.
“I have him dead to rights on threatening a federal agent, terroristic activities, kidnapping, and felony assault,” Lucy yelled. “He’s mine.”
“No way. I’m the one he threatened, it’s my call,” Haddad returned. “We let the locals pick him up for murder. I’m not letting those two little girls’ deaths go unpunished while he serves time in the federal system. Pennsylvania has the death penalty, I say we let them use it.”
“C’mon, you really think he’ll last a week in prison? Looking like that?”
“I want him going down for murder.”
Andre stumbled. Haddad’s voice dripped with ice. Guy was telling the truth—he really, really wanted whoever killed those girls punished. If it went down the way Lucy had said, Andre couldn’t blame him.
Jenna shoved him past the door to the first classroom where Lucy and Haddad continued their argument.
“Make it look good,” she whispered. She reached to open the door. He could have taken her then, but the timing didn’t feel right. He needed Mad Dog prepped first. She pushed him inside the room, slammed the door behind him, and locked the door.
The room was set up for younger kids. No desks, just tiny chairs on a foam rug covered with cartoon characters. Walls lined with plastic bins of coloring supplies, finger paint. And Mad Dog. Sitting on a desk shoved into the corner, hands restrained behind him, yet somehow he looked as cocky as he did when he’d grabbed Andre off the street earlier.
“They got a hard-on for you, dawg,” Mad Dog drawled.
Andre looked over his shoulder at the closed door. Lucy and Haddad could still be heard shouting at each other, now arguing about who out-ranked who.
“Sonsofbitches setting me up for murder,” Andre said. It wasn’t hard letting traces of both fear and venom leak into his voice. The emotions were honest. “Say I killed a couple of girls. Tried to blow up some DEA agent. They’re talking the fuckin’ death penalty, man.”
“Too bad we can’t do something about that.”
Andre slumped against the wall. Conscious of Mad Dog watching him, he raised his ziptied wrists to wipe the sweat from his forehead.
“What happened to your mask?” Mad Dog asked.
“Bitch took it. Said I’d best get used to showing my face cuz they won’t let me have it in prison.” Andre looked over his shoulder at the door, letting a touch of fear show.
“They kept your hands in front.”
“Had to,” Andre said off-handedly. “Can’t reach behind my back. Scar tissue.” He frowned, hard. Pushed off the wall and paced to the door. Tried the knob. Locked. Spun and paced the other way. “I can’t go to prison. No way. And murder? I didn’t kill no one.”
“Like they care. You say anything about Darius?”
Andre jerked his chin up, stared at Mad Dog. “No. I’d never rat. You know that. Could’ve given Darius up last time I got caught, but didn’t.” His shoulders sagged and he spun back to the door. “Besides, what was I supposed to say? That I couldn’t be killing those girls because I was helping you guys plan to kill someone else?” He kicked the door so hard it shook. “I’m fucked!”
“Chill, homes.”
Andre ignored him. He paced in a tight circle, his breath coming in heaving gasps that almost bent him double. “Fucked, fucked, fucked. No way out.” He stopped suddenly, faced Mad Dog with wide eyes. “MD, they’re gonna kill me. I got to get out of here. Now.”
Mad Dog looked at him with a combination of pity and cunning. Almost there. Andre finally fell against the wall, wheezing, face buried in his hands.
“Andre, stop it. Hey.” Mad Dog got to his feet and kicked Andre’s thigh. “I said stop it. You do everything I say and I’ll get you out of here.”
Andre didn’t look up. “Really?” he moaned through his hands. “How?”
“First of all stop your bellyaching. It’s embarrassing.”
Andre wiped his face, lowered his hands.
“Find something you can use as a shim. Get me out of these damn things.” Mad Dog waved his bound hands at Andre.
A few minutes later, with the help of a paperclip Andre found on the floor, they both had their hands free.
“Now what?” Andre asked.
“Now you fake an asthma attack. I’ll get the guard in to get your inhaler.”
Andre nodded and began to fake wheeze and cough loudly. Mad Dog kicked on the door. “Help! Hey, he’s dying here. Needs his medicine. You all got to get him his medicine!”
A moment later the door popped open and Jenna stepped in. “What’s going—”
Andre lunged and twisted her gun from her grasp as Mad Dog tackled her. As soon as Mad Dog rolled clear of her body, Andre fired the shotgun, missing Jenna by inches—but Mad Dog’s back was to her, so he never knew. The shot thundered through the basement.
“Shit, dawg. I said to hit her, not shoot her,” Mad Dog grumbled as they ran down the hall.
“Stop!” Lucy shouted behind them. She fired her gun as Andre and Mad Dog sped up the stairs. They pushed through the door and ran into the courtyard.
“Take the van?” Andre asked when Mad Dog hesitated. Damn, it was hard to lead a man without him knowing it.
“No, stupid. Too slow. This way.” Mad Dog spotted the pedestrian gate and sprinted for it just as Lucy and Haddad burst through the door behind them, firing at them.
Callahan came out the convent door, blocking Lucy and Haddad’s path. Andre spun and aimed at him. Pulled the trigger and nothing happened.
“Damn, I’m out!” He threw the shotgun to the ground with a clatter.
Lucy and Haddad waved Callahan back, but it slowed them a little. Enough to allow Mad Dog to reach the gate.
Andre grinned in the darkness then followed Mad Dog. About time he got to take the fight to Raziq. As he ran, footsteps pounding against the pavement, he swore he heard his squad cheering him on.
Chapter 33
After Andre vanished into the night, Lucy checked her phone. His signal was easy to follow. She walked past the convent, heading towards the Tahoe, and Nick joined her.
“I’m coming with you,” Nick said in his “you can’t talk me out of this” tone. “He’s my patient.”
Lucy turned to him, had to swallow her initial, adrenalin-fueled response. Fake gunfight or not, there was no way to avoid triggering the flight or fight reflex. After a deep breath in and out, she was able to answer him in a steady tone. “We’ve reports that the Gangstas are headed this way. I need you to stay here, keep everyone safe. Watch over these people.”
“Then you stay, too.” He stretched to his full height, shoulders back so his chest appeared broader. There was nothing like a firefight to create a testosterone spike. “At least that way, I’ll only have Andre to worry about.”
Not even on the menu. She needed to know he was safe—or as safe as she could make him. “Nick. These people need you. Really, it’s the best way you can help.” Besides, she was not about to let an untrained civilian put himself in danger—or worse, distract her so they both got killed. “You’re not coming. That’s final.”
His forehead furrowed with anger. “You think I’m a liability, don't you? Lucy, is that what you’ve always thought?”
God, not now. She and Nick seldom argued much less fought—but when they did, they tended to be knock-down-drag-‘em-blow-outs of fights. Fast and loud and furious.
“This isn’t the time or place. Let’s talk later when we’re both calm.” Damn, she was using her hostage-negotiation voice. Nick hated when she did that.
“Don’t treat me like a child or on
e of your two-bit criminals.”
She reached a hand out to him but he shrugged it off. Jenna waved to her from the Tahoe, hurry up. But she couldn’t leave Nick. Not like this. She grabbed both of his wrists, wouldn’t let go even when he tried to jerk his hands away. Pulled him so close her face would fill his vision—which had probably narrowed to a small circle thanks to the adrenalin pumping through his system. “Nick. I love you. I want you safe. I would give anything to stay here with you.”
He pulled back, lips twisted into a scowl. So not her husband, Mr. Zen-calm. But then, he’d never been in battle conditions before. He’d come close, a few months ago when Megan had been threatened, but Lucy had dealt with the actual danger.
Since then, small fractures had splintered through their marriage. Hearing about her job, reading about it in the news, was a hell of a lot different than seeing it and knowing all you could do was stand helpless on the sidelines.
Now Nick was in the middle of a war. And it was all too clear he wanted a chance to fight. “I can take care of myself.”
“I know that. That’s why I’m trusting you to take care of these people. There isn’t anyone else I would trust to do that.”
His expression softened. “I just—I can’t let you go back out there. What if something happens to you?”
She kissed him. Hard and deep, not releasing the pressure until he relented and some of the tension eased from him.
“I’ll be fine. I promise.” He knew she never made a promise she couldn’t keep. Neither of them pointed out that this promise was one she had no earthly control over. “But I’ll be more fine if I know I don’t have to worry about anyone here.” Anyone including Nick.
He was still irritated, but nodded. “Okay. Give me a gun.”
She handed him her backup Baby Glock and a spare clip. He took it clumsily but held it without aiming at anyone. Nick had always been a bit passive-aggressive about having weapons in their house, much less actually using them. She’d never called him on it before, had let him hold the moral high ground, because, well, Nick almost always had the moral high ground in their relationship. He always put family first, even over his patients, while Lucy couldn’t honestly say that about her job.
“God, you look so sexy right now,” she told him in sotto voce.
He grinned and with a flash of bravado, pulled her close, bending her back in a dramatic dip as he kissed her. “You’d better keep your promise and come back in one piece. Because I’m expecting one hell of a date night to make up for missing the ballet.”
Laughter burbled from her, driven by relief. Whatever happened, he’d be okay—they’d be okay. Knowing that, she could face anything.
<><><>
Thank God for spyware, Morgan thought as she idled outside the gates of Holy Trinity. Otherwise she would have never been privy to Lucy’s plan.
Who was this Andre Stone that Lucy was using as bait? And this Raziq family they were trying to rescue? It was clear Andre didn’t trust the father, yet he was willing to put his life on the line for them.
What could be so important about them on a night like this when people were dying all over the city?
Interesting. She especially liked the part where they were going to track Andre back to whoever had orchestrated the city’s bloodbath. Zapata. Him she’d like to meet.
She’d initially planned to simply watch through her binoculars. But when the gang guy and Andre made their break and came running down the street right towards her, how could she resist joining in on the fun?
The whimsy of fate, her dad's voice echoed through her mind. That and the fact that she'd strategically parked downhill from Holy Trinity. If she was a prisoner intent on escape, she'd turn to run downhill, not up.
Morgan unlocked the Honda’s doors, turned her lights and turn signal on as if she’d just gotten into the car and was driving away. She made sure her bag was on her side of the car, right at hand between her seat and the driver’s door. It looked like a purse but it was much, much more, holding everything she needed: duct tape, two stun guns, pepper spray, wire, compact Smith and Wesson .38 semiautomatic, lock picks, three stolen cell phones, cash, and, of course, her beloved knives. Surgical steel, freshly sharpened.
She pulled from the curb, timing it so she almost hit the first man running, and lurched to a stop. She rolled down her window, one hand on her .38, just in case, and called, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you!”
Before she could finish he’d raced around to the passenger door and jumped in. His partner, Andre Stone she assumed, hopped in the back. “Drive, bitch!”
<><><>
Andre took his eyes off Mad Dog for a second, that was all, while he checked their flank, and next thing he knew there was a screech of brakes and Mad Dog was jumping into some white girl’s car. Girl had to be about the unluckiest person on the planet, choosing this street on this night to get lost on.
Only way to keep her safe was to hop in after Mad Dog. Like he needed one more civilian to worry about.
“How about I drive and we ditch the chick?” Andre suggested from his place in the backseat.
The girl hunched over the wheel, gripping it so tight they’d need a crowbar to pry her loose. Plus she was speeding down Ruby Avenue, the little Honda bouncing like a trampoline with each pothole.
“Chill, I got this,” Mad Dog said, sounding like he was enjoying himself. “You get down back there, can’t afford to have anyone see your ugly face.”
No way. Andre needed to see where they were going. Not to mention what Mad Dog was doing to the girl. He already had his hand on her thigh, kneading her leg through her jeans like he owned her. Shit. Maybe it was for the best that she was driving—at least he couldn’t rape her.
It was what would happen to her once they arrived that Andre was worried about. How was he going to take out Mad Dog with Darius and who knew how many Rippers and cartel guys there?
If he left the girl alone with Mad Dog at least he’d have a chance of finding Fatima and the baby, completing his mission. No, he couldn’t risk her life. He’d just have to take his chances with Darius and anyone else waiting for them.
Might finally get his wish and re-join his squad. Funny, the thought didn’t really have the appeal it had a few hours ago. Like he had something worth living for.
That thought scared him more than the idea of dying.
Chapter 34
Lucy drove. Amazing how being behind the wheel made her feel so much more in control. Of what she wasn’t sure because it was obvious to everyone that her “plan” could have been better labeled a “wing and a prayer.” But it was the only chance Raziq’s family had.
Jenna sat in the back giving directions from her laptop and talking with Taylor. Haddad had shotgun—literally, holding Lucy’s Remington and keeping an eye out his open window.
“Taylor says they jumped into a gray Honda. No ID on the driver. It was reported stolen three days ago.”
Lucy frowned. “There’s no way they could have arranged for a getaway car.”
“Maybe one of the Rippers followed us after we picked them up?” Haddad suggested. “Was waiting for them?”
“Figures the bad guys would be two steps ahead of us,” Jenna said. “They’re headed west on Frankstown.”
Lucy stepped on the accelerator and turned left onto Frankstown Avenue. She wanted to stay out of sight of Andre’s vehicle but didn’t want to be too far behind in case he needed backup. “Ask Taylor if he’s having any luck locating Zapata’s control center.”
The sound of automatic weapons fire came from not far away.
“See anything?” she asked Haddad who had her monocular in addition to the shotgun.
“No vehicles approaching.”
“Taylor says it’s Gangstas,” Jenna reported. “They torched Kujo’s and have begun to raid the projects, looking for Ripper stash houses.”
Lucy hated to think of driving away, leaving civilians to fend for themselves, but she could only b
e one place at a time. “Anyone coming to help them?”
Jenna was silent. Lucy interpreted that as a big fat "no."
She kept driving, turning onto Liberty. A police car sped past going the other way, but other than that, traffic was nonexistent, although there were a lot of vehicles double-parked, choking the street from its normal four lanes down to barely two.
More sirens and the rumble of helicopters came from the south. “That’s the new Target on fire,” Lucy said. Haddad swiveled to look out the window. Flames danced across the skyline.
“Looks like they got Whole Foods as well,” he pointed to a second, smaller fire.
An entire neighborhood’s hopes for revitalization doomed in one night.
“Turn north onto Highland,” Jenna directed.
“Where the hell are we going?” Lucy wondered.
“Wherever it is, they planned well,” Haddad said. “This area is covered by Zones Four and Five. Once they were gone, there was no real police presence.”
“Except the police tied up at both station houses.”
“Until the Rippers took them out,” Jenna added. “With freakin’ RPGs.” She didn’t sound too happy about the prospect of facing that kind of superior firepower. Lucy couldn’t blame her.
Taylor’s voice squawked excitedly from her radio. “Boss, I know where they’re going.”
“Where?”
“The Highland Park Zoo. It’s perfect. Tons of empty land, easy access, and with Washington Boulevard blocked no one will be driving nearby. Think of the possibilities—”
“What makes you so certain?” Not that she didn’t trust Taylor, but sometimes his imagination went a little wild.
“I flew the drone ahead of the Honda, trying to map out their possible route and the zoo was the only place that made sense. Then I sent it around at treetop level and guess what I saw?”
“Taylor—”
“An RV with a satellite antenna. And going into it was Rashid Raziq.”