by CJ Lyons
“Ain’t no snitches,” one of the teens said angrily. The elderly woman beside him elbowed him in the stomach. Hard.
“The Rippers will know it was us,” one of the men said. “We can’t risk that.”
“They won’t know who talked,” Nick argued. “I’m not even sure they’ll be back at all. After what they did tonight, the police, FBI, DEA, you name it, are going to be after them.”
“Hah.” A woman in her thirties spat at Nick’s feet. “Police. Not like they fuckin' cared before. Why bother now?”
He glanced at Patrice. She helped, saying, “The Rippers went too far. They attacked the police. Killed some. The police aren’t going to let that go unpunished.”
“So as usual, we’re the ones paying the price.”
“This is your only chance. We’re running out of time.”
The crowd shifted, grumbled, but no one made eye contact with Nick.
“All I need is the unit number. Won’t you give me that to save the lives of your children, your grandchildren?”
The elderly man belonging to the girls in the van spoke up. “1778. That’s the one you want.”
The others looked at him in surprise, the teenage boys with anger. Nick walked back to Tee-Bo. “I have the location. You let this van full of people drive off safely—a gesture of good will—and I’ll give it to you.”
“Nah, man. You give it to me now and we’ll see how much good will I have after.”
“You gave me your word of honor. As a gentleman. Wouldn’t want to let all these people know your word isn’t worth anything.” Nick held his ground, meeting the Gangsta’s gaze. "I expect a business man like yourself protects his reputation above all else."
Finally Tee-Bo relented. “Okay, okay.” He laughed as if this were all a joke, not innocent lives they were gambling with. “You pretty hard-assed for a white boy. You win. We play it your way.”
<><><>
When the smoke and heat first hit Andre, it felt as if his windpipe had squeezed shut. Eyes watering, vision useless in the haze, he wheezed and gasped. He flailed from one side of the hall to the other, banging against the cage doors, trying to find Giselle. Where the hell had she gone?
No sign of Giselle. Instead, he tripped over two bodies near the front of the building. A woman and a girl. He tried to gulp in a breath but couldn’t. His vision danced with red spots as he grabbed the girl’s arm.
“Help Jenna,” she whispered.
Jenna? The sexy redhead? Had those been her screams he’d heard, not Giselle's?
Andre wasn’t sure he could get his own body to the door, which seemed an impossible distance away. Move it, Sarge, his men called to him. Show them what makes a Dog Company Marine.
He dragged the girl and Jenna with him to the door. One foot forward, then the other, one more, and again… Lungs burning, head spinning, he heaved against the door. It didn’t open.
He wanted to quit. But then he heard his old drill sergeant. Only time a Marine quits is when he’s dead.
Right. And he wasn’t dead yet. He dropped the girl’s arm to pull the door open instead of pushing against it then grabbed her again. He stumbled out into the night, dragging them with him.
The cool night air was like a woman’s caress. Soothing his irritated airways, he was able to relax and breathe in. Another breath and his vision cleared. His chest still felt tight, but it was as if his asthma had closed his throat in time to protect him from inhaling too much of the smoke. He heaved in a few more breaths then pushed himself to his feet. Smoke roiled through the open door, flames licked at the top of the doorjamb, reaching for the fake thatching. The girl was coughing but sitting up. She couldn’t speak, but motioned to him to help her with Jenna.
He waved her aside and lifted Jenna in his arms. What had happened to her hair? Zapata. Fury gave him strength he hadn’t imagined he possessed. Together with the girl they staggered down the path.
“Thank you, Andre,” the girl said. She was the one from the car, he realized. But how the hell had she known his name?
<><><>
Lucy took her time, acclimating her senses to the weird twilight and raucous noises. Instead of following the path, she stepped over the boulders lining it onto moist ground that was soft beneath her feet. There was a display of exotic foliage, thick enough to hide a man, just up ahead.
Approaching it from what she hoped was Raziq’s blind side, Lucy crept through the brush, quietly, gingerly pulling back branches, weaving her body through them. Stalking her prey.
Raziq’s dark suit blended into the shadows but the dim lights made his white shirt collar and cuffs stand out all the more. He crouched about ten feet in front of her and to her left, ready to pounce on anyone coming down the main path.
Lucy stepped towards him, moving past the final dwarf palm standing between her and Raziq.
“Put the gun on the ground and raise your hands where I can see them,” she instructed, her voice raised over the jungle noises but sounding strangely calm and normal.
He hesitated and she thought she might have to shoot him. There was still a chance he was an innocent victim in all this. He could have escaped, stolen a weapon, gone after Fatima and the baby. But Lucy wasn't taking any chances.
Raziq carefully lowered his gun to the ground. He stood up straight, hands on his head in the universal posture of surrender.
“Lie face down on the ground,” Lucy instructed him. “Arms spread out to your sides.”
He complied. "All I want is my son."
She grabbed a flex-cuff, restrained him then searched him, no other weapons. Hauling him back to his feet, she said, “Okay, let’s go.”
He stood, head flung back and shouted, "Fatima! Bring Ali here. This instant!"
She nudged him onto the path. "Shut up and walk."
“You need to be nicer to me if you want to live through this night,” he said as they followed the trail out the main doors. “I’m your only hope.”
Okay, that put him squarely on the side of the bad guys. Lucy had known there was something wrong about Raziq. She wondered how far he was involved with Zapata. Was so tired it was hard to care, as long as she had him in custody and Fatima and the baby were safe.
She prodded Raziq down the steps to the bottom. Stopped him there to radio Taylor an update.
“The Guard unit just breached the front gate,” he said. “They’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Gunfire sounded from the east. That should keep Zapata’s men occupied. “I’ll wait here, make sure no one tries to escape in the helicopter.”
She’d just pocketed the radio when Andre staggered out of the trees. He carried Jenna in his arms.
“Andre, what happened?”
He shook his head as if there was too much to explain. Jenna looked awful—her hair was gone, her face and head swollen with bruises and blisters. Christ, what had Zapata done to her?
“Any sign of Haddad?” she asked.
“No,” Andre answered as he lowered Jenna to her feet. She appeared stunned, but was able to stand on her own.
“He’s dead,” Jenna said. She coughed and cleared her throat. “Raziq shot him. He killed David.”
Lucy turned to Raziq. “Killing a federal agent. That’s the needle.”
Jenna jerked up, her gaze swimming around, past Lucy, taking in the helo then Raziq. She lunged at Raziq, clawing at him. Andre pulled her away before she got close. Raziq spat in her direction.
“Shoot him, damnit!” Jenna screamed.
“She can’t,” Raziq said. “I’m too valuable. No one can touch me.”
Lucy ignored him. She’d love to shoot the man, he deserved to die, but as much as she was tempted, she couldn’t. Not and look Nick or Megan in the eye ever again.
“Saint Lucy,” Jenna sneered, fists futilely pummeling Andre’s arms restraining her. “Do you have any idea how many men I killed tonight? Just to save your scrawny butt. How about Walden? Or David Haddad? And how many men did you kill, Lucy
? Have you even fired your weapon, you miserable coward?”
Lucy stared at her in shock. She was obviously traumatized. What had Zapata and his men done to her? “Jenna—”
“Don’t 'Jenna' me, bitch. You sit on your high horse, so judgmental, talking about justice this and justice that. But you’re just a coward. Too chicken to deliver that justice you preach about. Well, I’m not.” She spun free of Andre. Before he could grab her, she flew across the space between them, aiming a knife at Raziq.
“Jenna, no!” Lucy stepped between Jenna and Raziq. God help her, the look in Jenna’s eyes. It was as if Jenna wanted to kill her as much as she did Raziq.
“Out of my way, Lucy.” Jenna’s voice was so hoarse it barely sounded human. Her hand that held the knife shook. Hell, her entire body trembled with fury.
“No. Jenna. You can’t.”
“I can and I will. Get out of my way.”
“Give me the knife.” Lucy reached her hand out.
Jenna hesitated and for a heartbeat Lucy thought she was actually going to stab her in order to get to Raziq. Andre grabbed Jenna from behind and the knife clattered to the ground.
“Get her out of here,” Lucy told Andre. “I’ll deal with this.” She nodded to the helo, the pilot’s body, their crime scene, her prisoner… God, what a mess.
“Don’t worry,” he said. Lucy had the feeling he was talking more to Jenna than her. “I’ll take care of everything.”
He half carried, half led Jenna away, looking over his shoulder and meeting Lucy’s gaze as if wanting some promise from her. What kind of promise she wasn’t sure. That the trauma Jenna had suffered had been worth it? That everything would be okay, the city would heal? That Raziq would rot in prison for the rest of his life?
Lucy wished she could make any one of those promises. But she couldn’t.
Raziq looked up at her from where he sat on the steps and laughed. “Americans. No stomach for business. That’s why Zapata and I made such a great team. Look what we did to your precious city. All in one night."
Lucy stared at him, speechless. Did he have any idea how many people had lost their lives tonight? For what? Money? Power? What could possibly be worth all this?
He continued, "You think you’re impervious, you’re protected. Hah. You’re all weak. Vulnerable. And now you’re scared. Because if we did this to you, anyone can. And they will. After tonight, none of you will ever be safe again.”
“Neither will you, Raziq. Any idea what they’ll do to you in an American prison?”
“You can’t send me to prison. I know too much. I’m too valuable. If the cartel can’t pay me for what I know, the US government will.” He shrugged. “What do I care where the money comes from?”
She almost vomited, she was so disgusted. “Your wife cares. Or she will after I have a little chat with her. You’ll never see your son again.”
His eyes narrowed. “You can’t do that. I ask for my son, I get my son. Why do you think we went through all this, this drama?”
Lucy crouched down to his eye level. “I think you wanted it all. The money Zapata promised you, freedom to spend it, and a son to be proud of. Your daughters were collateral damage. Getting rid of them was part of the price Zapata paid for your services, wasn’t it?”
“Badria, no. She was unfortunate." He actually managed to sound contrite. "But the other—” He spat at Lucy’s feet. “It was worth it. To hear her scream, beg for mercy, for forgiveness. Ungrateful whore.”
A sinking feeling made Lucy’s gut go cold. She’d suspected the truth but to hear him boast about it… She smelled smoke. Worse, burning flesh. Like what she'd smelled when she'd first entered Raziq's house. "You were there. You’re the one who watched.”
He smiled. “Of course I did. It was my honor sullied, my right to see her punished.”
Sonofabitch. She looked away, her chest tight, making it hard to breathe. Her gaze fell on Jenna’s discarded knife beside her.
“After Zapata’s men were done with her, I’m the one who lit the match,” Raziq said. “You should have heard her scream.”
She could do it. She could end the bastard here and now; no one would ever know.
Lucy grabbed the knife. Raziq laughed again. “You can’t do it. Typical woman. Typical American. No taste for blood.”
“Maybe not.” She folded the knife shut and pocketed it. “I prefer the taste of justice.”
She turned away. Just long enough to regain her composure without him watching, searching her for any sign of weakness. A tiny moment of privacy. She scrubbed her face with one hand, trying to remember what it felt like not to be exhausted. Thought of Nick and Megan. Took a breath. Reminded herself that she was alive—and nothing Raziq said could change that. She had won.
Behind her she heard a small, choked cry. Lucy whirled, gun in her hand. Morgan Ames stood over Raziq’s body. His throat was slashed, blood still gurgling as it spilled onto the ground.
“Morgan! But why, how—”
Morgan coldly cleaned her blade on Raziq’s coat hem. “Because there are monsters even worse than my father.” She stood, glanced over Lucy’s shoulder where sirens filled the night. “We’re even now.”
She ran off, vanishing into the darkness before Lucy had a chance to do more than watch. Unless she wanted to shoot Morgan in the back.
Lucy looked down at Raziq’s still body. Swallowed against a wave of bile and disgust. He wasn’t worth it.
Chapter 42
“What I don’t understand,” Lucy said to Nick as she drove his Explorer across the river and turned towards home, “is what Morgan was doing there in the first place.”
They’d left Jenna and Andre at the hospital, being monitored overnight for smoke inhalation. Andre had refused to leave Jenna's side. Lucy thought he would be a good influence on Jenna.
Walden was out of surgery and going to be fine, according to the doctors. The Guardsmen used the zoo’s fire-fighting equipment to put out the blaze before it spread. They found Zapata’s body along with those of two other men and a woman. No animals injured, they’d been proud to report. Best of all, they'd found the zoo's nightshift workers locked up in the main staff office. Only one security guard had been killed. After what she'd seen at the 911 Center, the news had seemed like a miracle—after all, Zapata had no reason not to massacre them all.
All Lucy could think was that he'd been holding onto them to use as hostages if his plans fell apart. Made her smile to think that she and her team had spoiled that for him.
Fatima and the baby. That had been the hardest thing—telling her the truth about what her husband had done. Lucy still wasn't sure the mother had taken it all in. The poor woman was isolated, couldn't even give Lucy the name of anyone to call other than her friend in Cranberry. There was no way she'd be able to make it there with the roads still shut down. In the end, at Nick's suggestion, she'd left them with the sisters at Holy Trinity.
She'd saved Fatima and the baby, she'd caught Mina and Badria's killer… yet, given the enormity of the destruction, the price paid for those small successes, she knew she'd failed. The backlash of adrenalin fleeing left her feeling hollow inside. As if she'd lost something important tonight and she wasn't sure if she could ever get it back again.
Taylor had already dug up evidence of the State Police pilot’s bribe. Sold his soul and his helicopter to Zapata for a mere fifty thousand dollars. Documents in the helicopter revealed that he was supposed to fly Zapata and Raziq to an isolated farm in Maryland, from there they would have begun a leisurely cross-country trip to Mexico by car while the authorities were busy blocking the airports.
The names of the 911 operators massacred were beginning to be verified. The press was calling them Pittsburgh's Martyrs. Lucy still didn't know the name of the deputy she'd failed to save, but she vowed that when she did, she'd find his family. Tell them everything.
Other than a few isolated incidents of looting, the city was calming down. Enough so that after her ini
tial debriefing she was granted permission to escort their “civilian witness” home.
“I know Morgan wasn’t following me,” she continued when Nick remained silent. “Jenna said she’s been stalking her, but that doesn’t explain how she knew to be at Ruby Avenue at the right time waiting in a car. Or how she knew who Andre was.”
Nick cleared his throat and shifted his position. Did he have any idea how guilty he looked?
“Nick. I’m not an idiot. Just tell me.”
He blew his breath out. God, he looked exhausted. She almost regretted pushing him, but she needed to know Morgan wasn’t a threat before she let Megan come home. From the girl’s parting words, she didn’t think there was a problem, but she’d underestimated the teenage psychopath before.
“I was the idiot,” he finally said. “I was driving to Andre’s when she appeared in the road. I almost ran her down. Said she'd wrecked her bike, needed help. I didn’t recognize her at first—she had a wig and colored contacts—and when I did it was too late.”
“Wait.” She hit the brakes and pulled into a Sheetz. She bypassed the gas pumps and stopped the car along the side wall of the convenience store where they would have privacy. “Morgan Ames was alone with you? In this vehicle? What happened? Tell me everything.”
As he explained, including a bone-chilling account of his time alone with the killer in her house, Lucy searched the car and presented Nick with the trophies left by Morgan.
At least he didn't try to feign surprise at the obvious story told by Morgan's underwear and blood left in his car. But he didn't look angry either. More… disappointed.
“She didn't go through with it,” he said.
He didn’t know about Raziq. Or about the expression on Morgan’s face when she slit Raziq’s throat—or rather, the lack of expression.
“Are you really defending her?” she demanded. She loved him for his empathy; it was what made him so good at his job. But couldn't he turn it off for one damn moment? “Do you have any idea what she could have done to you? Not just rape charges. She could have staged something much, much worse—set you up for murder.” But even that wasn't the worst thing she feared. She had to suck in her breath just to find the strength to say it aloud; hoped she wasn't tempting Fate. “Nick, what if she killed you?”