by Young, Mark
“Go,” Finch hissed into his radio.
Breaking glass carried across the night air, followed by simultaneous explosions. The entry team slammed the door with a metal ram like Nordic raiders breaking into a fortified castle. “Go, go, go!”
The team rushed across the threshold and into the darkness, one man peeling to the right, the next one to the left, each trying to cross the kill zone as quickly as possible before armed inhabitants began firing.
Gerrit followed Finch inside. He saw movement to the right and a high-caliber assault rifle flashed. Several SWAT members returned fire, short bursts from their own H&Ks leveled at the gunman. Nico’s man screamed, followed by silence. One down.
More quick bursts came from the rear of the house. In the lobby, Gerrit moved toward the stairs that spiraled upward. Using the wall as cover, he started to climb the first stair until he saw movement. A shooter emerged and sprayed the lobby with a Mac 10.
Gerrit found himself caught in the open. He rolled away and dived through a doorway at the foot of the stairs. Scrambling to his feet, he risked a quick peek around the corner.
Another burst of gunfire sprayed the lobby. A child screamed. The sound seemed to come from the back of the house behind the gunman.
The shooter fired blindly. The bad guy could only see what his muzzle flash showed after each explosion.
Gerrit prayed the child and mother made it to the back bedroom. He waited until the gunman went silent, and then fired two short bursts across the top of the stairway where the shooter crouched. He leaped backward out of the gunman’s field of fire.
Silence.
He slowly peered around the corner, allowing his night-vision scope to refocus. The gunman lay draped across the stairway, his weapon lying on one of the stairs several feet away.
Gerrit hurried up the stairway just as he heard someone behind him. He whirled and raised his H&K before realizing it was Finch. Lowering his weapon, he held up three fingers, then pointed toward the back of the house on the second floor.
Finch nodded, gesturing for Gerrit to lead.
He began climbing the stairs, staying to the far right of the stairway and brushing the wall with his body. Every few steps, Gerrit paused and listened.
Nothing.
At the top, Gerrit cautiously peered around the corner, looking over his gun sight as each part of the second floor hallway became visible. No one in the hallway. Nico and his family must be holed up in the master bedroom.
They lost the element of surprise. Nico knew they would be coming.
Gerrit ran through the sketch of the house in his mind. Before the operation, he’d studied the house’s blueprints at the city’s planning department. He committed these plans to memory as an office clerk watched.
“You want me to make copies?” the young man asked.
Gerrit shook his head. “No thanks, I’ll remember.”
And he did remember. It was a gift he possessed since childhood that his parents never questioned. They just knew his eidetic memory was a gift, and it was why Taylor kept dubbing him Einstein. Whatever Gerrit read or saw, with minimal effort he memorized.
The top of the stairs opened up to a hallway that ran the full length of the house. At the far end stood the door leading to the master bedroom with only two other doors in between. He recalled that one door, on his right, led to a large storage room. That room was his goal. All Nico needed to do was fling open the bedroom doors and fire. Anyone standing in the hallway would be killed. He would have to move fast.
Turning, he motioned Finch closer and whispered, “Cover me. I know another way into Nico’s bedroom.”
“What? You gonna fly?”
Gerrit ignored the barb. “When I give you a signal, call out for Nico to give up. Distract him.”
Finch looked puzzled but nodded.
Gerrit handed over his assault rifle. “I can only take my S&W. I’ll signal when I’m in position.”
“What the—?”
Gerrit moved away before Finch finished, eyeing the master bedroom as he crept along the wall. Reaching the storage room, he eased open the door and slipped inside. Just as he started to close it, the master bedroom door flung open. He left the storage door partly open as he watched through the slit.
A girl slowly emerged from the bedroom. Nico followed on her heels, gripping her by the throat and jammed a .9mm Glock to her scalp with his other hand. “Back your men away or she dies.”
Angrily, Gerrit watched Nico using the girl as a shield, a look of terror on her face. The gangster didn’t seem to notice the half-opened door where Gerrit stood hiding. Instead, Nico focused down the hall as the child fought back tears.
“Don’t involve the girl, Nico.” Finch’s voice carried down the hallway. “Calm down. We can figure this out.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down, you idiot. I’m calling the shots. You guys back off or someone gets hurt.”
Finch relented. “Okay, okay. We’re pulling back. Just take it easy.”
Nico peered around the girl, his gaze darting down the hallway. A second later, Nico turned toward him. The gunman seemed to have just noticed the door cracked open.
Gerrit pulled back into the darkness, hoping—for the girl’s sake and his—that Nico didn’t see him.
Suddenly, Nico yanked his gun toward Gerrit and fired several shots into the storage room.
Gerrit had no place to run. He sank deeper into the shadows, expecting to be hit at any moment. The door slammed closed as the bullets passed through, leaving the room in darkness except where bullets riddled the wood.
“Hey, what’s going on down there? I said we’d pull back.” Finch’s yell carried down the hallway.
Nico must have slammed the bedroom door closed without answering.
Gerrit fought the urge to feel his chest for bullet holes. The door looked like a slice of Swiss cheese, holes riddling the wood, allowing fingers of light to cut through darkness. He was alive and standing. He hoped the rest of his plan went smoother than this. Nico would be on the alert for anything. Next time, his luck might not hold out.
Chapter 5
“Alpha-One. You Code 4?” Finch’s voice cracked in Gerrit’s ear. “We can’t see anything from our position.” The FBI agent sounded stressed.
Gerrit whispered into his mike, “Alpha-One is Code 4. Stand down. Will advise.”
The last thing he wanted was SWAT to rush in and kill Nico—or the girl. The Russian crook may be able to give Gerrit evidence about his parents’ deaths. He must keep the man alive. A detonation trigger found at the scene of his parents’ murders raised suspicions that a Russian crime group might have been involved. Nico was the number one crook.
He relaxed when he heard two clicks on the radio. Finch got his message.
Gerrit fumbled for a small LED flashlight. He flicked it and scanned the ceiling. There it is! A square panel, white plaster finish blending with the ceiling, recessed about four inches.
He pushed the panel to one side, then clenched the flashlight in his teeth. Grasping the panel’s frame, he pulled himself upward, holding his breath and trying to move quickly and silently. His holster caught on the edge, making a loud clunking noise.
He froze, caught halfway through the opening. Seconds ticked away as he listened. His arms started to shake. Unable to wait any longer, he pulled himself up into the darkness.
Gerrit stood on a support beam, flashlight still clenched in his mouth. He inched forward as he balanced, wincing when wood creaked under his weight. He finally reached a second access panel above a walk-in closet adjacent to the master bath.
He pulled out a knife and flicked the blade open, working it down between the panel and the wood-framed opening. He began to force the panel up so he could grasp its edge with the tip of his fingers. Gerrit almost dropped his knife when his radio squelched to life.
“Alpha One. Status check.” Finch was getting jumpy.
Gerrit carefully kept the knife blade in place so
the panel wouldn’t slip. He reached up with a free hand and keyed the mike twice, hoping Finch might back off for a moment. He was thankful Finch’s voice became muffled in Gerrit’s earpiece. He didn’t think Nico and the others below could hear.
“Roger that,” Finch said. Gerrit just bought a few more minutes.
He turned off his flashlight. Holding his breath, Gerrit worked the panel up until he saw a hint of light emerge. Gently lifting the panel to one side, he saw the walk-in closet below, large enough to sleep a small family.
Biting his lip, he started the hardest part of this operation, lowering himself through the opening without making a sound. He braced himself and began his descent.
Just as he reached shoulder height, he heard feet running below. Someone dashing across a hard surface. Must be in the bathroom area. The building plans showed this walk-in closet as an extension of the bathroom. Someone was moving toward his location, shoes clinking on what sounded like tiles.
Gerrit froze, sweat starting to drip down his forehead, arms beginning to shake from holding up his weight in an awkward position. He tried to stay in place for fear of making a sound if he dropped to the floor below. He was too far committed to pull himself back up into the attic, but he would not be able to hold this position much longer.
No one came to the closet door.
“Hurry up in there.” Nico’s voice. Angry.
Gerrit heard someone vomiting. A moment later a woman’s voice called out just a few feet away from the closet door. “Give me a minute.” Her voice seemed strained, frightened. More retching. What was her name? Yeah, Cassandra.
Muscles began to burn from the strain. He could no longer hold on. He must risk it. He eased himself lower, muscles burning, until his head cleared the opening, feet finally resting on plush carpet. He allowed his weight to rest on his feet a little at a time, waiting for the boards underfoot to give him away. This close and one squeaking board might catch Nico’s attention. He knew the man was waiting for any noise that might alert him to trouble.
Where was the girl?
He heard Cassandra moving around in the bathroom. Nico’s voice came from farther away, somewhere deep in the master bedroom. The girl must be near the Russian gangster. But where?
He reached down and unholstered his .40 caliber S&W, slowly withdrawing it. His right thumb flicked off the safety and his index finger slid across the trigger. The closet door was only a few steps away.
Cassandra’s shoes clicked on the floor as he neared the door. She seemed to be moving away. Back into the bedroom?
He paused, keyed his mike, and whispered, “Finch. When I key the mike twice, I want you to create a disturbance in the hallway just loud enough to grab the suspect’s attention. Copy?”
“10-4,” Finch’s voice crackled over the radio, full of tension.
Gerrit lowered his free hand and reached down to grasp the door handle, slowly turning counterclockwise. He felt the knob stop and knew the door would open when he was ready. He pushed forward, opening it a fraction at a time. Bright light began to filter in as the door widened. He stopped, peered through the opening.
No one.
The door blocked his view from the rest of the bathroom but gave him a straight shot into the bedroom. He needed to get past this door so he could clear the bathroom behind him and move toward where Nico stood guard over his wife and child.
Now was the time to make his move.
Gerrit pushed the door further and stepped into the room. He started to level his weapon toward the bedroom door when he heard a sharp gasp behind him.
Whirling, he pivoted to see Cassandra’s startled face. He clamped a hand across her mouth, her eyes wide with fear. She didn’t resist. How had he missed her? He looked down and saw she was barefoot. She must have kicked her shoes off after getting sick.
Cassandra looked at him as if waiting for instructions.
Pointing for her to move back into the water closet, Gerrit edged around the closet door, closing it behind him while still trying to keep a visual on the doorway to the bedroom. He couldn’t see anyone from this position.
Cassandra’s hand squeezed his arm. She motioned toward the bedroom, gesturing that her husband and child were to the right, just out of sight. Nodding, he crossed the bathroom until he was standing to the right of the bedroom threshold. Carefully leaning to his left, Gerrit peered around the corner. The girl lay rigidly on the bed, fists clenched, staring up at Nico. Nico paced back and forth a few feet away like a caged animal.
Gerrit drew back out of sight. Maybe he wouldn’t need to alert SWAT. He could end this right now.
He brought up his weapon, looking over the front sight as he edged to the left until he had a bead on Nico’s head. Had to be a head shot. A shot to center mass would give Nico time to twitch and fire a weapon before dying. Now it was about the child, not his parents’ death. Nico must die quick.
A shot ran out somewhere in the house.
Nico lunged toward the girl, grabbing her hair in a clenched fist. The girl screamed, crying.
Gerrit backed out of sight as Nico dragged the child toward the doorway leading into the hallway. He lost his chance to take Nico out.
Cassandra pushed against him. “Stop him, please,” she whispered. He tried to restrain her.
“I told you to back off,” Nico screamed through the locked door. “You want me to kill the girl.”
Maria. That was the girl’s name. Gerrit clenched his teeth. Why did it matter at this point? Sometimes his brain came up with information at the oddest times. Maria might be dead in the next few seconds.
Cassandra stirred behind him, eyes bulging with fear. Gerrit glared at her and jerked his head toward the bathroom. Cassandra shook her head, tears welling up.
He held a finger to his lips, trying to get her to remain quiet, as he turned his attention toward the bedroom.
Finch’s voice bellowed down the hallway. “Accidental discharge. We’re staying back…just like you said.”
Gerrit peered into the room and saw Nico release the girl once again. He was facing the door. “Maria, get on the bed and lie down. Don’t make a sound.” The girl started to comply until she looked up and saw Gerrit.
She screamed.
Nico swung around just as Gerrit got him in his sights.
“Freeze.”
Nico continued to take aim.
Gerrit fired.
Maria and Cassandra screamed in unison.
He fired repeatedly until Nico’s body lurched back, the Russian’s gun firing into the ceiling. Nico’s weapon slipped from his grasp as he collapsed on the carpet.
Rushing over to where the man lay, Gerrit pointed his gun at Nico’s face, ready to fire if the man so much as twitched.
Nico’s eyes turned toward him, and he gave one gasp. His sightless eyes stared back.
Scratch one gangster.
The girl sobbed, and her mother rushed past him to comfort her.
Gerrit hit the transmission button. “Suspect down. 10-55. Units cleared to come in.”
And another lead to his parents’ death just killed.
Chapter 6
“Man, that’s one sick animal. Holding a gun to his own kid’s head.” Taylor moved over to make room for Gerrit in the van.
“Not his kid.” Gerrit eyed one of the shooting team investigators across the street before closing the door behind him. They were still holding down the scene three hours after all the shooting. It was going to be a long night. “Nico married Cassandra when Maria was a year old. Rumor has it Nico had her dad wasted just to clear the way to Cassandra. He hates the kid.”
Taylor shook his head. “How’d you know about the access panel in the storage room?”
Smiling, Gerrit shrugged. “Just remembered.”
“You’re weird, dude. Freakin’ weird. Who remembers—?”
Pounding on the van door reverberated through the vehicle. “Gerrit, you in there?” Lieutenant Cromwell’s bellow was easy to ide
ntify. “Get your ass out here. Now.”
Gerrit smirked. “He’s such a sensitive soul. Worried about my traumatic experience.” Seeing Cromwell peering through the tinted window, Gerrit edged over and unlocked the door. “Coming out, Lieutenant.”
Cromwell stepped back as Gerrit swung open the door. “We need to talk. Privately.” He whirled around and crossed the street to his rental car. “Get in, O’Rourke.” It was a command, not a request.
Gerrit slid into the passenger side as Cromwell heaved himself behind the steering wheel. “What are you doing here, sir? I thought you’d be standing by in Seattle for details.”
“Plans change. I’m driving you to the airport.” Cromwell fired up the engine. “Taylor can bring your things later.”
“Boss, you came all the way down here to drive me to the airport?” Gerrit looked at him incredulously. “Besides, we’ve got a ton of evidence and property to seize back there. And the shooting team—”
“Leave it to me to coordinate. That’s why I am down here.” He yanked on the wheel and hit the car horn. “This comes from the top. I mean, straight from the top in Justice. Our chief got the word several hours ago. Ordered me to hop on a plane and personally drag your sorry carcass onto the next flight to D.C. They want you there yesterday.”
Marilynn’s earlier phone call flashed in Gerrit’s mind. “What’s up, Lieutenant? Why the urgency?”
“Sometimes, we’re just not given a reason. You’ve been in the military. When they say ‘jump,’ we just ask ‘how high.’ This is one of those times.”
“The shooting team took my weapons. I’ve got nothing on me.”
“Won’t need it where you’re going, although you never know about these Washington bureaucrats. Might want to consider wearing a bulletproof vest so they don’t stab you in the back.”
“Came here to fill me with confidence?”
“Don’t give a flying leap about your confidence. Just want to make sure you get on that plane.” Cromwell gave him a hard stare. “Son, be careful. Don’t know what’s going on, but these people are serious. Deadly serious. I’ve been around the block a few times, and my gut tells me you’d better watch out. Trust no one.”