Devil's Playground

by Arianna Hart

  “How did you know…”

  “I’m a woman, I have my ways. Now get up. I already made coffee and poured you some cereal.” He didn’t need to know Maggie had stopped over yesterday. She’d promised to not let anyone in and even though Maggie was safe enough, she didn’t want a lecture.

  “Christ, can’t a guy get some privacy around here? I’ll be glad when this is all over and you all go away,” Jim grumbled, reaching for his jeans on the floor.

  Caitlyn’s heart sunk at the thought of Mac going away, but she shook it off. She still hadn’t figured out how to make him miserable without her, but she would. After work.

  “Poor baby. Is your family wreaking havoc on your love life?” Now he knew how she felt.

  “Shut up and get me some coffee. The least you could do is pour me a cup since you’re making me get up after only six hours sleep.”

  Once Caitlyn was sure he was really up and moving, she skipped out of the room and into the kitchen. She’d happily pour him coffee if it got him moving.

  Jim was still in a fog when he stumbled into the kitchen a few minutes later, but at least he was dressed.

  “Yum. I’ll miss your coffee when you go. But that’s the only thing.” He blew cautiously on the steaming brew.

  “I love you too. You know, if you drink that on the way to the hospital, you can come back to bed sooner.” She tapped her feet anxiously.

  “What’s the rush? Why can’t you make your damn phone calls from here?”

  “I can’t make them here because I need to look up the schedule. I want to put a few folks on guard to come in early if we need them. I have a feeling we’re going to need extra help sooner, rather than later.”

  Jim focused on her words. “That’s not a bad idea. You could tell them you heard through the grapevine there was going to be another disaster drill and you wanted to be ready. Liam and I could do the same thing.”

  Caitlyn thought about it for a moment. “That could work. I’ll say I heard it from Liam, he can say he heard it from you, and you could say you heard it from me. No one wants another clusterfuck like the last one, so they’d be on their guards.”

  Since 9/11, the various municipalities had begun working together to plan for future attacks. Disaster drills were designed for the police, fire, and emergency medical services to prepare for mass casualty incidents. They were invariably mass confusion, with a few people doing all the work and the rest of the folks standing around getting in the way. The media had a field day with the poor performance after the last one.

  “You know, for a girl, you’re pretty smart.” Jim smiled evilly at her.

  Caitlyn rolled her eyes. “You’re not so shabby yourself, for a brother. Now come on.”

  Jim groused all the way to the hospital, but she didn’t care. She felt like a prisoner on a one-day pass. Freedom! She was finally out of the apartment and out from under four pairs of watchful eyes.

  “Just drop me off at the emergency entrance,” Caitlyn said, reaching for the door.

  “Not on your life. I’ll walk you into the hospital and have a little talk with the security guards while I’m at it.”

  Caitlyn rolled her eyes but didn’t bother to argue. What good would it do her? Besides, if it made him feel more comfortable leaving her alone, she’d put up with the escort. For now anyway.

  “Hey, Caitlyn. How’s your back?” Nancy, the emergency room secretary asked as Caitlyn walked in.

  “Good as new. A little stretching and some rest and I’m back in fighting form.”

  “Just in time too. City hall put out an alert. They’re noticing an increase in gang activity. We could be in for a busy night.”

  “Really?”

  “That’s what the fax said.” Nancy pulled the memo out of a pile on her desk and handed it over.

  Caitlyn skimmed the carefully worded memo. Things had been quiet for a while. Why would city hall think that there was an increase in gang activity coming? The return number on the fax form looked familiar. Could it be from the police station? Could this have been sent out by the chief?

  “Has the phone tree been activated for this? I mean, do we have backups ready in case we get inundated with gunshot patients?”

  “Not really. The word from the higher ups is that we’ll take it under advisement.” She rolled her eyes. It was easy for the administration to say they’d take it under advisement. They weren’t the ones who’d be flooded with patients and not enough staff.

  Great. Back to her original plan. “Listen, between you and me, I heard from my brother that another disaster drill was in the works. The fire departments are putting everyone on call and planning for it. Do you think you and I could make a few phone calls and get our teams in place?”

  “Well, we can’t make it official, but we could call some of our off duty friends and let them know about a pending drill. In a friendly way of course.” The secretary pulled a binder down and opened it up. “Here’s A through M, I’ll take N through Z.”

  “You’re too good. I’ll take this to the staff lounge and pass the word.”

  “Thanks. And I’m only doing this because I’m not letting those hip wagon kings make us look bad. I know your brother’s a paramedic, but some of his buddies are real jerks. If they start flying in here with mass casualties, we’ll be ready for them.”

  Caitlyn smiled and took her list to the relative quiet of the staff lounge. Word would spread like wildfire through the hospital and phone lines would be buzzing on every floor. No one wanted a repeat of the media flogging they’d gotten last time. The hospital would be ready for whatever was coming, she just wished she knew what it was.

  * * *

  Tom clicked off his cell phone with a laugh as Mac climbed into the passenger seat of his car with two cups of steaming coffee.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “My little brother is smarter than I thought. Listen to this. Jim had this idea to get the municipalities ready without making a brouhaha.”

  “I’ve gotta hear this. Nothing happens with the munies without at least ten memos and five action committees.” Mac took a cautious sip of his coffee.

  “I guess the city had a mass casualty drill a few months back and it was a disaster.”

  “No pun intended?”

  “Ha, ha. Anyway, as usual, they all blamed each other for the mess and the papers and nightly news ripped them up one side and down the other.” Tom pulled out into traffic, careful not to spill his coffee.

  “I can see it now. The big story on the ten o’clock news, ‘Is Hartford ready for another 9/11?’”

  “Exactly. Anyway, Caitlyn went into work and told some folks there that she heard from Jim that they were planning another drill. Then Jim called some of his buddies and said he heard from Liam that there was another drill in the works.”

  “And let me guess, Liam called his buddies and said he heard from Caitlyn that they were preparing for a drill?”

  “You got it. None of them want to be caught with their pants down this time and word is spreading faster than lightning.”

  “That could backfire on us,” Mac said working through the consequences aloud. “If the chief is involved, he’ll hear about it. And since he knows there’s no drill planned, he might smell a rat.”

  “Maybe. Either way, it doesn’t hurt to be prepared, and if nothing comes of it they can always blame it on a rumor.”

  “True, but it will put him on his guard.” Mac felt a stirring in his gut. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

  “Like he’s not already? He knows you’re out and about. I figure he’s either going to cut and run or move his operation up to get the most money if it all blows up.” Tom slowed down and turned into the commuter lot.

  “I don’t know. My instincts are screaming that something is going to happen soon, but for the life of me I can’t figure out what it is.”

  “There’s nothing more we can do about it than what we’re already doing. Now, d
o you want to follow the chief again and I’ll take Miguel?”

  “No, they won’t meet again so soon. If yesterday’s meeting was to put everything in place, then the action will come from the streets.”

  “Then that’s where we’re headed.” Tom reached around and hauled a bulging backpack out from the back seat.

  Both men pulled on baggy jeans and loose shirts. Mac added a pair of headphones and an MP3 player to the disguise. Slipping into “Diego” mode, he let a bitterness creep into his face before he stuffed his gun into the back of his pants and slipped out of the car.

  “You take the corner and I’ll scout out Carlos’ place. If something big is going down, he’ll be right in the thick of it,” Mac said.

  “Here, take the radio. Click it twice if you need something. I’ve got it on vibrate so no one should hear it on the street.”

  Mac took the radio and slipped it in one of the deep pants pockets. “I’ll take the first bus, you take the second.”

  “Got it. Watch your back.” Tom put his fist out.

  “You too.” Mac thumped his fist on top of Tom’s and slipped on some sunglasses before gliding towards the bus stop.

  The little booth was almost empty, just one elderly Hispanic woman who clutched her purse to her chest and scotched closer to the other end of the bench at Mac’s approach. He ignored her and turned the MP3 player on until the bass line made his teeth ache. After this assignment ended, he was never listening to rap again.

  It didn’t take long for the bus to roll in. Mac paid his fare and slouched low in a window seat. The dark glasses he wore hid his light eyes and let him take in his surroundings unobserved. There was a definite tension in the air. Fewer people than normal were on the bus. As Mac gazed out at the passing neighborhoods, it appeared that folks were holding up inside.

  Oh yeah, something was going down today. He checked his reflection in the grimy bus window. If someone looked closely they might be able to tell that he and Diego were the same person, but unless they were looking for the connection, his disguise should hold. He looked like any number of restless thugs that prowled the streets.

  Mac picked a stop a few blocks from Carlos’ headquarters. He wanted to get a feel for the neighborhood before he found a spot to hide. His neck prickled with awareness as he slipped through the streets. Curtains twitched as he passed quiet buildings, but no one came out. The atmosphere reminded him of an old Western movie, just before the two gunslingers met at high noon. Any second he expected to hear eerie music in the background.

  Good Lord, he was losing it.

  A clatter behind him had Mac jumping for cover. A skinny dog trotted down the street, nosing a can scavenged from someone’s trash. Mac laughed weakly at himself. His heart pounded in his throat and his pulse raced. He was getting too old for this when a stray dog could scare ten years off his life.

  Mac waited for the dog to pass him. He didn’t need to call attention to himself by having a flea-bitten mutt dogging his heels. Caitlyn probably would have scooped him up and taken him home. She had such a soft heart for strays of all types.

  Including him.

  He pushed thoughts of her out of his head. There was no room for error in this mission, and getting caught in the emotional knots she tied him in would only trip him up. He had to focus his attention on finding out what Carlos was up to.

  For the hundredth time, he wished there had been time for Liam to get them that surveillance equipment. Being able to hear what was said behind closed doors would give them a much-needed edge. No sense crying over what they didn’t have. He’d use what tools he had and pray they were enough. Stealth and instinct had gotten him through many a hairy situation. This time would be no different.

  He hoped.

  Dodging the lookouts Mac knew were hiding around Carlos’ apartment, he crept behind a dumpster and pulled some of the overflow around him. Reeking garbage bags provided the cover he needed to keep all but the most determined searchers away. No bag lady or bum would go dumpster hopping in this neighborhood. At least not if they wanted to keep any treasures they picked up along the way.

  Mac settled in and kept an eye on the main entrance and the corner fire escape. There was a chance that visitors could come through the back door, but that was a chance he’d have to take. As it was, he could only see the front door if he craned his neck precariously around the dumpster.

  The midday heat made the garbage that much more fragrant, and Mac had to fight off biting flies that thought he made a great snack. Sitting in piles of refuse was starting to get old. There had to be a better way to make a living and still help others. Bile rose in his throat as he caught another whiff of stale urine and rotting food.

  He bet Accounts never had to sit for hours behind dumpsters. Maybe when this was all over, he’d put in a transfer. Yeah, accounting was looking pretty good right about now. Nice neat rows of numbers, coffee breaks, a corner office. And coming home to Caitlyn at five thirty every night.

  Wait a minute there, buddy. Where did that come from? He wasn’t thinking seriously about getting out of fieldwork, was he? Yeah, he had feelings for Caitlyn, but that didn’t mean he was going to change his entire life around for her.

  But would it only be for her? Hadn’t he been feeling more and more disillusioned as this case wore on? Long before he met Caitlyn, he’d felt disgust at what he’d had to do to maintain his cover. He’d told himself it was for the greater good, a means to an end, but the stains on his soul grew every day.

  Being around the O’Tooles had shown him what he was missing, always on the outside looking in. Working undercover didn’t lend itself to close relationships, or so he’d always told himself. But didn’t Tom maintain a relationship with his family? He didn’t isolate himself from the rest of the world just because he went deep underground for months at a time.

  It might be nice to have someone worrying about him for a change. To have someone to come home to. To love.

  Hello? Get your head out of the clouds, buddy. Mac shook himself. This was not the time to contemplate major life decisions. He had a job to do, and when it was all over he’d take a vacation and think about his future then. On a beach somewhere, with a cold beer in one hand and a leggy babe in the other.

  Unbidden, a picture of Caitlyn in a bikini flashed into his brain. Now that would be a vacation. To have her all to himself without worrying about older brothers walking in on them or gang members trying to kill him. Vacation nothing, that would be heaven.

  For the first time that day, Mac wished whatever was going to happen would happen soon so he could make his daydream a reality. Oh brother, he needed to get his head on straight before it got blown off while he was fantasizing about Caitlyn in a bikini.

  Mac shifted his weight to a more comfortable position. His wound hardly bothered him at all anymore, as long as he didn’t try to stretch his arms over his head. Good thing too, since he’d been crawling all over the city for the last week. He still couldn’t believe his luck in landing under Caitlyn’s Jeep. It must have been fate.

  Now he knew he’d been out in the sun too long. The combination of his odiferous surrounds and heat must have fried his brains. He made his own destiny and fate had nothing to do with it.

  On the other hand, he’d take any good luck that happened to come his way.

  “And look at that. Patience and good luck strikes again,” Mac muttered to himself as shiny black sedan pulled in front of the building and parked illegally.

  This wasn’t Carlos’ car, and he was sure he’d never seen it around the neighborhood before. Mac’s heart rate picked up, and adrenaline zipped through his system. He reached into his pocket and clicked the radio twice before snagging the disposable camera he’d bought at the gas station that morning. It didn’t have a zoom lens or anything, but it could take a picture without the tell tale flash of Jim’s automatic camera.

  Mac waited with baited breath to see who would emerge from the black car. He took a picture of the licen
se plate while he was waiting. If he couldn’t get a look at the passengers, at least he could have Liam run the plates.

  “Come on, come on.” Mac urged the riders to get out so he could get a shot at them. The doors remained firmly closed. He couldn’t see squat through the darkly tinted windows, no matter how hard he squinted to get a hint of the occupants of the vehicle.

  The door to the apartment building burst open and two of Carlos’ bodyguards strutted out and flanked the door. Carlos followed slowly after them, searching the street for any onlookers. Mac held still behind his shield of garbage and cardboard boxes. Any movement would draw the eye to his hiding place.

  When Carlos deemed it safe, he stepped to the back door of the sedan and opened it. Mac clicked the camera, getting a good shot of Carlos opening the door. He waited with his finger poised over the button for his next shot. Mac was laying odds that it was the Chief of Police. A picture of Carlos with the chief should be proof enough to take to any judge.

  Good thing he wasn’t a gambling man, cause he would have been wrong. Dead wrong.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Mac was so stunned he almost forgot to snap the picture. The mayor? The mayor of the city was shaking hands with Carlos and following him into the building. He took two more pictures in quick succession. They might not come out clearly, but the mayor’s face would be recognizable even to the blindest of judges.

  The mayor? What could he get out of it? Mac was stunned. He’d met with Mayor Nadowny once when the mayor gave a talk to the Northeast division about Hartford’s unique dichotomy. Tom had been there too. Shit. He knew Mac and Tom were partners.

  If he knew that, then he could easily figure out who was hiding him. Fear slammed him in the gut. Mac didn’t dare leave his hiding spot or the driver of the car would spot him. Where the hell was Tom? They had to call Liam and Jim. And Caitlyn. She still thought it was the chief.

  Calm down! Mac forced himself to think rationally. If the mayor was here, he couldn’t be after Caitlyn. Once he left, he would meet up with Tom and they’d gather the troops and reevaluate this latest revelation. There was nothing to worry about.