by Arianna Hart
“The Man says tonight’s the night. He’s going to take care of the last piece of the puzzle, then he’ll call Carlos. When Carlos gets the call, everyone’s supposed to go wild.”
“What do you mean?” Mac wanted to be sure he knew exactly what was happening.
“We’re supposed to get the guns and start breaking into stores, stealing stuff and setting fires. The Hands and the 525s are going to go postal too. This city’s going to go up in flames.”
Miguel didn’t look all too upset about the prospect either. The chief was going to have his hands full keeping this one out of trouble.
“I don’t get it. What could the mayor get out of having his city looted and burned? It’s only three months until election, why would he want to cause so much destruction?” Tom asked.
“To get re-elected. He’ll blame it all on the police department and call in the National Guard. They’ll come in and clean up the streets. Meanwhile, he’ll wipe out any of his enemies during the looting and come out smelling like a rose.” The chief swore a blue streak.
“That seems awful extreme just to get re-elected.” Jim didn’t look convinced.
“Look at what happened after 9/11,” Mac said, pushing his chair back. “They were ready to canonize their mayor for how he responded in a crisis. Nadowny will jump in and be part of the clean up, he’ll make some quick decisions and fight to get the National Guard out there. Hell, they’ll be ready to elect him president.” Mac wanted to punch something. It was disgustingly clever. He didn’t know why he didn’t figure it out before.
“Bastard. Hundreds of lives will be ruined, all so he can get re-elected.”
“It’s not going to happen.” Liam stood.
“How are we going to stop it? We’ve got no proof and no time, plus he has Caitlyn.” Mac wasn’t going to let the hotheaded O’Toole put Caitlyn at risk. He’d let the whole city burn down before he let her get hurt.
“I don’t know, but we’re going to do something. I grew up in this city and I protect it for a living. I’m not going to let this asshole tear it down.”
“Think, Liam. We can’t go tearing off half-cocked. We need a plan.” Tom clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder.
Liam slapped his hands on the table in frustration. He opened his mouth to say something more, but was stopped by Tom’s phone ringing.
“O’Toole,” he said, putting it on speakerphone and motioning for silence.
“If you want your sister back, you’ll follow these directions.”
“Who is this?” Tom asked.
“Doesn’t matter. Just listen and do what I say or you’ll get your sister back in pieces.”
Anger burned through Mac’s veins. He clenched his fist to keep from swearing in fury. He had to remain silent, but a scream of rage built inside.
“I’m listening.”
“Good boy. Bring Diego and all the evidence he has to the warehouse on the corner of White and Broad. When we have him, you can get the girl.”
“How do we know you haven’t already killed her?” Tom’s face held no expression, but his hands gripped the table so hard his knuckles were white.
“Hold on, I’ll put her on the phone.”
There was a muffled rustling, as if someone put their hand over the receiver, then it cleared.
“Don’t do it! Take the evidence and run!” Caitlyn screamed.
The slap of skin meeting skin echoed through the phone and her voice stopped mid scream.
“Be there at nine tonight or she’s dead. Don’t bring in anyone else. I’ll know if you do.” The phone clicked off with an ominous buzz.
“Son-of-a-bitch!” Mac swore and kicked a nearby chair.
“What are we going to do? We can’t let them hurt her—more.” Jim’s voice held a hint of fear.
“We do what he says and exchange me for her.” Mac had been a hostage before. He never thought he’d do it again. Only this time, they couldn’t afford to let him live.
“No fucking way. We’ve got enough evidence combined to at least bring it to a judge for a search warrant.” The chief stood and faced down Mac.
“Except if we do that, they’ll kill my sister. I don’t give a shit about the mayor at this point.” Jim rapped his hands sharply on the table.
“She’s not worth an entire city of people!” the chief shouted back.
The room descended into a screaming match as tempers flared. Mac waited for a pause and stepped between the warring parties. “I didn’t say I was going in like a lamb to the slaughter. They can’t let me live, and now that Caitlyn has seen the mayor, they can’t let her live either. I’ll go in wired. I’m sure they’ll want to find out exactly what I know before they try to kill me.”
“You’re talking about your death, man.” The chief sat with a thud.
Mac knew the chief cared more for his value as a witness than for his safety. “Not if I have backup, I’m not. While they’re interrogating me, you’ll mobilize our forces to storm the warehouse.” Mac looked at Miguel. “Do you know the warehouse he’s talking about? You’re much higher up than I was.”
Miguel nodded. “Yeah, it’s an old run down place, lots of little rooms up top, but all open at street level. It’s where we stored the guns.”
“Okay. I go in and insist on seeing Caitlyn first, keeping up a running commentary so you know where I’m headed. When I make sure Caitlyn is safe and I can keep her that way, I’ll give the signal and you’ll storm the place.”
“How? We’ve got two hours to pull an army out of nowhere. How the hell do you expect to do that?” The chief threw his hands up in the air.
“Jim, Liam, I believe you might be able to help us with this,” Mac said, raising an eyebrow.
Liam looked uncomfortably at his chief. “Ah, I put out a word or two about a possible disaster drill happening today. I only have to make two calls to get every off duty police officer in the city mobilized.”
“Where did you get the authorization to do that?”
“Who gives a shit?” Tom said to the chief. “All that matters is, we have manpower at the ready. I’m betting we’d have every firefighter in the tri-city area on hand too.”
Jim nodded in agreement. “If I tell them it’s for Caitlyn, they’ll call in more folks than you can count. She grew up around that department. There isn’t a man there who wouldn’t walk through fire for her.”
Mac hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Visions of a junkie waving an automatic rifle around in a nursery filled with newborns flashed into his brain. His thigh ached where he had picked up a bullet.
Could he do it again? Could he put himself in a situation where a cold-blooded killer waited for him? The junkie had only been after drugs. Carlos and the mayor were after his blood.
It didn’t matter. He’d put his life on the line time and time again for the good of the company and the country. This time it’d be to save Caitlyn, and if that meant dying in the process, so be it. Hell, if it weren’t for her he’d have died from blood loss the night he got shot. He’d already cheated death by a month. If he had his way, he’d cheat death for a whole lot longer. And so would Caitlyn.
“I can’t wear a regular wire, they’re sure to be looking for that. Do you have access to any quick taps?”
A quick tap was a transmitting device small enough to be concealed in the sole of a shoe. It had a limited battery life and couldn’t record on it’s own, but if the receiver was paired up with a tape recorder, anything said in a five foot vicinity of the transmitter would get taped. The feds had used them for a few years now, but Mac wasn’t sure if they’d made their way to local police forces yet.
“Ah,” Liam shot a glance at the chief. “I have one, and a receiver, but it’s just a prototype a buddy of mine got his hands on. It hasn’t been used yet.”
“Can you get it and get back here in less than an hour?” Tom asked.
“Sure. It’s in my car.”
Tom and Mac looked at him in surprise. “You told
me you wanted surveillance equipment, so I got some.”
“I was talking about long range listening devices, not quick taps.” Tom planted his hands on his hips.
“Do you want to bitch about what I got or do you want me to go and get it?”
Mac stepped in before another family battle could ensue. “Thanks, Liam. Having that on hand gives us more time to plan. Can you make those calls when you get back? I want as many bodies backing me up as I can get.”
“You get my sister out alive, and I’ll throw every body I’ve got behind you.”
An unspoken agreement passed between the two of them. For the first time, Mac felt accepted. Too bad he might not live long enough to enjoy the experience.
“Let’s make those phone calls, boys. We’ve got a lot to do and not much time to do it in.”
* * *
The coppery taste of blood filled Caitlyn’s mouth. Her head felt like a troupe of Irish step dancers pounded away inside it. Opening gritty eyes, she tried to remember where she was. What the hell had happened to her? Her whole body ached.
She took in her surroundings, straining to recall why she felt like she’d been hit by a truck. The room was dim. Fading sunlight slipped through dirty windows high over head. It smelled musty from disuse and dust danced liberally in the dying rays of sun. A desk was the only furniture in the room and huge wooden boxes were stacked to the ceiling in every other available inch. Caitlyn gingerly sat up, wincing as the dancers pounded harder on her brain. Her cheek throbbed too and felt tender to the touch.
The memory of a fist coming straight towards her flashed into her brain. She wasn’t positive, but the guy that hit her this time looked an awful lot like the guy who grabbed her outside of work. He had the same scar on his cheek and he smelled the same. He also punched damn hard. So hard she’d blacked out.
And not for the first time.
She remembered getting thrown into the mayor’s car and getting hit on the head with something. She’d never passed out in her life and here she’d done it twice in a matter of hours.
It wasn’t an experience she wanted to repeat anytime soon.
The memories flipped through her mind like a movie. Coming back to consciousness while she was thrown over some thug’s shoulder. Being sat up in a chair while the guy with the scar on his face held a gun to her head. Her purse being searched and her phone taken.
Had she really told Tom to forget about her and not turn the evidence over? It had seemed like the right thing to do at the time. The heroic thing to do.
Too bad she wasn’t a hero.
She really, really wanted someone to come riding to the rescue right about now. Fear chased through her body and her knees grew weak with it. The taste of blood in her mouth and the throbbing of her cheekbone only reminded her that these guys meant business. Even if Mac turned himself in, she’d still be dead. They couldn’t afford to let her live.
Tom and Mac would know that. They wouldn’t let Mac throw his life away when the mayor had no intention of letting her live. Would they? Panic tried to strangle her. She didn’t want to die. But she didn’t want Mac killed either.
What could she do? She wasn’t a fed or even a cop. She was a nurse, for God’s sake. Her training had to do with saving people, not single-handedly saving the city from a madman.
“You think they’ll go for it?”
Caitlyn jumped at the voice so close to her ear. Looking around, she couldn’t see anyone else in the room.
“Yeah, they’ll have to. Feds always play by the rules. They’ll try something, though.”
The voices drifted up to her from a heating vent on the floor. Caitlyn peered through the slats and saw two young men with red bandanas tied over their heads sitting at a table beneath her. Way beneath her. She squinted down and tried to get an idea of what was below her. It looked like a great big room.
Boxes, windows high up, she could be in a factory or some type of warehouse. Gingerly getting to her feet, she crept to the wooden crates piled high around her. They were sealed tight. Crap. Without a crow bar, she wouldn’t be able to figure out what was inside. Even if she had a crow bar, it wasn’t worth investigating. She wanted them thinking she was sleeping for as long as possible.
Caitlyn climbed on the desk and used that to help her get on top some boxes until she could look out the filthy window. All she could see was the roof of another building right next door. If she could get out the skinny window, she’d be able to jump to the roof and get away.
Except she wasn’t a size two.
Well, she wasn’t getting out that way. What next? She refused to contemplate giving up. Just because she couldn’t fight these guys didn’t mean she had to sit here and just take whatever they dished out.
Think, damn it. If this were a game, what would she do? Caitlyn tried to pretend it was just Jim and Liam playing spy again, not a panic inducing matter of life and death. What would she do if they locked her up?
It had happened more than once, until the time she hid behind the playroom couch and fell asleep. Tom had been babysitting and was furious because they couldn’t find her. After an hour, she’d woken up from her nap and gone to the kitchen for a snack. Tom had called the neighbors and they had scoured the neighborhood for her.
That was it. If she couldn’t escape, she just had to hide and make them think she’d escaped. But how? The boxes were too heavy to move. If she slipped behind one of them, she’d never be able to get out, and they’d be able to find her too quickly. She looked at the desk. Nah, that’s the first place they’d look.
The ceiling was out, nothing but wires and duct work, no false panels to hide behind there. A single ventilation grill stuck down from one of the ducts with a big sign warning against blocking the vent.
Caitlyn measured the distance from the box to the grill. Could she reach it from the next stack of boxes? And if she could, how the hell was she going to get in? She really didn’t like heights. If she fell, it was a good twelve feet to the ground.
“Yo, Cheech! It’s time to go! Carlos gave the word.” An excited shout came clearly through the heating vent below.
“Yeah, man. I want a new stereo. Let’s hit Radio Shack first.”
“Then come on. Let’s get there before the Hands do. Grab a bar, man, this place is going up in flames. The city’s ours tonight!” A theatrically evil laugh echoed through the building.
The laugh sent shivers down her spine. Whatever was going on, it was starting now. Which meant there wasn’t long before they’d come for her. She could sit there and wait for them or she could get her ass in the ventilation duct. Well, try to get in the duct anyway.
Taking a deep breath, Caitlyn clattered to the stack of boxes closest to the grille. The stack wobbled underneath her, and her knees turned to water. Man, she hated heights.
“Just don’t look down and you’ll be fine.” Yeah, right. Her head ached and her face still throbbed, but she climbed steadily higher despite the fear and the pain.
On shaking legs, she balanced on the top of the pile of boxes. Her perch was unsteady at best, but she was closer to the vent than she thought. Using an overhead beam for balance, Caitlyn stretched her fingers to the grille to see if she could wiggle it off. She was going to have to use two hands at some point, but her fingers felt glued to the I-beam above her.
The grille didn’t want to budge, damn. What now? The screw holding the side closest to her was a little loose, but not loose enough for her fingers to twist it. She had a nifty gadget in her purse that came complete with a screwdriver. Fat lot of good that did her here. Her uniform didn’t come equipped with a tool belt.
But, she did have her ID badge. The metal clip might be able to grasp the screw. It was worth a try at least. Caitlyn unclipped the badge from her shirt and fumbled to attach it to the screw.
It wasn’t as easy as she thought. The clip kept slipping every time she turned the screw, but eventually it came out far enough for her to grab it with her fingers. Flecks o
f rust blew into her eyes and she had to blink rapidly to clear them.
No more noise drifted up from the floor below and Caitlyn wondered what was going on. Surely they wouldn’t have left her all alone while they went out and looted the city? Someone had to be there to “exchange” her for Mac, right?
Sweat dripped down her back as she worked the screw loose. How long was this freaking thing anyway? Her hand was beginning to cramp from holding onto the I-beam and her legs shook from the strain of balancing on the boxes.
Finally the stupid screw wobbled out. The grille creaked as she swung it out on the remaining screw. Thank God she didn’t have to undo that one too.
Caitlyn took a deep breath for courage. And then another, just in case. Praying to anyone who would listen, she felt around inside the vent for a ledge or something she could use to get a grip. Her nail caught on something and tore and sharp pain shot through her finger.
“Come on, O’Toole, that’s the least of your worries right now.”
There had to be something there for her to grab onto. How did they clean these suckers unless they could climb in them? Caitlyn had no idea if it had ever been cleaned, but it made sense that there had to be some way in.
Creeping her other hand closer to the duct, Caitlyn leaned out a little more to explore higher up in shaft. Was that a ledge? She reached farther up. Yes! There was a little shelf there, if she could—What? Hang there with her feet dangling over open space? If there were no other handholds, she was sunk.
Resting most of her body weight on the outside of the duct, she stretched out as far as she dared and felt around blindly for another hold. There was something there! If she could just reach a little higher…
Caitlyn’s feet slipped out from under her, pushing the box she was standing on precariously close to the edge. The arm inside the duct screamed in pain and she held onto the duct for dear life while the other arm lost its grip completely.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God.” Caitlyn bit her lip to keep from crying out in pain and fear. She didn’t know how much longer she could hold on. Using her free hand, she reached inside the shaft to feel for another handhold, anything to take the weight off her one arm.