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The Frenzy Wolves

Page 19

by Gregory Lamberson


  “No, thanks.” He nodded at the photos. “You can hang on to those. I think someone sent a message to you.”

  The mountains of Kwamie’s face fell, and Mace and Karol descended the stairs to the exit.

  “Hey, Captain!”

  Mace and Karol turned.

  “Maybe the werewolves killed those bad fellas.” Kwamie burst into booming laughter.

  Mace closed the SUV door and started its engine. “Charming fellow. I hope vice takes him down soon.”

  “Or someone else,” Karol said. “Now that he’s lost some of his muscle, the vultures may start circling.”

  Mace turned on his wipers and pulled away from the curb. “So . . . are you really sticking around?”

  “For now, yes.”

  “Would you mind filling out the report on this house call from home?”

  “Sure, why not.”

  Mace pulled into his driveway and killed the engine. The lights were on downstairs as well as in his own apartment. He got out carrying two coffees in a cardboard tray and a box of snacks and carried them over to the patrol car parked on the street.

  The PO sitting behind the wheel lowered his window. “How’s it going, Captain?”

  “It’s been a busy night.” Mace handed the coffees and snacks to the driver, who passed them to his partner.

  “Thanks. Last night of the full moon, huh?”

  “Yeah. You guys stay warm. You won’t take a break unless another car spells you, will you?”

  “No, sir. You’re covered.”

  “Thanks.” Mace heard the car window rise as he climbed the front steps.

  Sniper greeted Mace as soon as he entered the apartment, and Cheryl came out of the bedroom as he closed the door. Mace kneeled and petted the dog, then stood and kissed his wife.

  “You don’t have to walk him,” she said. “Anna did it at eleven.”

  Mace glanced at his watch and shrugged. “He could stand another walk.”

  “Forget it. I don’t know how long I have you, so you’re keeping me warm.”

  “I’m giving myself four hours of sleep and time for a shower.”

  She walked him to the bedroom, and Sniper followed. “How’s it going?”

  He shrugged. “We’re doing the best we can.”

  “How’s Carl?”

  “Blinded by success. It’s pretty frightening to see.”

  “I saw four gangsters were killed in the Bronx. The report seemed really sketchy.”

  “It wasn’t Gomez. No matter what you might hear on the news, nothing suggests he’s in New York City.”

  They entered the bedroom. Patty slept in the middle of the bed, drooling.

  Mace unbuttoned his shirt.

  Cheryl rubbed his back. “It’s good to have you home.”

  He slid an arm around her waist. “This will all be over soon.”

  “Will it?”

  “Either we’ll catch Gomez and Gabriel’s people will get away, or I’ll find myself back on Floyd Bennett Field.”

  Cheryl draped her arms around his neck. “Would that be so bad?”

  Mace drew in a breath. “For you and me and Patty? No. But this is bigger than us. I feel it in my bones.”

  “Maybe the survival of an entire species is too big a responsibility for one man.”

  He forced a smile. “I’m not alone.”

  “No, you’re not.” She kissed him. “Let’s go into the living room.”

  Twenty-Six

  Mace parked in the underground garage of the Bonaventure Hotel and entered its opulent lobby. He gave his name at the front desk, and the clerk directed him to a conference room on the second floor. A few minutes later, he joined Jim and Hollander.

  “Déjà vu,” he said as he closed the door. It had been only a matter of weeks since he had met with Jim, Norton, and Shelly in a similar room in the same hotel and had accepted the offer to head the task force. A copy of the Post lay on the table.

  “Did you get any sleep?” Jim said.

  “Enough.” Mace took a seat.

  “What have you got for us?” Hollander said.

  “Minjun Kim, the owner of the deli, disappeared. So did his wife and daughter. The deli is padlocked. We’re running down employees of the community center who could have unlocked that basement door. So far, we’ve been unable to reach one Mildred Ramirez, who worked at that community center, but it’s early yet.”

  “Wonderful.” Jim gestured at the paper. “I assume you saw this?”

  “Terrence Glenzer is going to become a best-selling author posthumously. Maybe Rice will get to write a new introduction.”

  “The governor will refute Rice’s report at nine, and the mayor will do the same at ten,” Hollander said. “Their tone will be dismissive to say the least. At eleven, several people who have worked with Rice will call his judgment into doubt. These folks will make themselves available to the cable news shows throughout the day. Columnists across the country will denounce him in the afternoon editions of newspapers. By then, no one will touch him.”

  “So we’re resorting to a smear campaign,” Mace said.

  “Six murders were committed between midnight and 5:00 am by people who swear their victims were werewolves or claimed they were themselves werewolves as a defense,” Jim said. “One hundred and forty calls were made to 911 by citizens who say their neighbors and coworkers are werewolves. And New York Senator Jack Prince is making noise about calling for senate hearings looking into the investigation of the Brotherhood of Torquemada.”

  “We’re making sure Prince quiets down, or he’ll suddenly find himself dealing with an investigation into his campaign finances,” Hollander said.

  “Craig Lindberg has his hands full,” Jim said. “He’ll address the press corps at noon. NYPD will brand Rice’s claims sensational fearmongering and will focus on real crimes. At this time, the entire department will engage in the hunt for Gomez, and the FBI will do the same for Michalakis. Our goal is to make their faces as visible as those from Rice’s video. Once Rice’s sanity has been called into question, they will be the only faces anyone cares about.”

  Good luck, Mace thought. “I see one flaw with this strategy. Rice has already implicated Gomez as a werewolf, and someone else may recognize Michalakis in that footage.”

  “It’s all in how the message is delivered,” Hollander said.

  Mace made a mental note to exercise extreme caution if he ever had to cross Hollander. “And if any more transformations are made public, we’ll all have egg on our faces.”

  “We have to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  “Where does this leave my team?”

  “We’re maintaining that your focus is still on wrapping up the investigation into the Brotherhood of Torquemada,” Jim said. “We’ve had to station two POs outside your base to keep reporters away. They’ve been briefed on what to say. While the department and bureau turn this city upside down looking for Gomez and Michalakis, I want you and your people to find Gabriel Domini.”

  “What do you want us to do then?”

  “Report his location to us. We’ll take care of the rest.”

  Mace wanted to argue that Gabriel hadn’t broken any laws, but he knew that wouldn’t help Gabriel or himself. “What about Raphael?”

  “We’ll find him when we find Michalakis,” Hollander said.

  “I’m still short on manpower. What about those detectives you promised me?”

  “That’s impossible now,” Jim said. “We need to make a show of putting these detectives on the street. If we divert manpower to your task force, it will not go unnoticed. Your hunt for Domini has to be under the radar.”

  “How do you intend to capture our Class Ls when you find them? I fired six shots into Janus Farel at point-blank range, and it didn’t even knock the wind out of him.”

  “So you say,” Hollander said. “According to your report, Farel ‘willed himself to die’ after you stabbed him with that broken sword. It’s more likel
y the bullets just took their time getting the job done. Since his body wasn’t recovered, we’ll never know.”

  “I hope you’re not willing to gamble cops’ lives on a theory. If you corner them with firearms, they will transform and cops will be killed.”

  “Glocks are more powerful than revolvers,” Jim said. “We’ll have tactical teams and choppers standing by with enough firepower to win Nam, plus animal tranquilizers and gas.”

  “I should be coordinating this.”

  “Thanks to Rice you’re too visible now, and we don’t even have any leads,” Jim said. “We’re playing a waiting game.”

  “Bring Rice in for questioning,” Hollander said. “Let him see your operation is still bare bones.”

  Mace didn’t like being used as a public relations tool.

  “Do you have a problem with that?”

  He shook his head. Let them think that was in response to Hollander’s question.

  “When this is all over, you’ll still be a hero for bringing down the Brotherhood of Torquemada,” Jim said. “The task force was a success. This just got too big too fast.”

  “Is there anything else?” Mace said.

  “Yes,” Hollander said. “Make sure Agents Norton and Grant are kept in the loop on everything.”

  “Of course.” Mace stood and exited the room. As soon as he reached the elevator, he called Landry.

  “I’m at the office now, boss,” Landry said.

  “Tell Candice and Grant to bring Rice in for questioning at 0900.”

  “What if he doesn’t want to come in?”

  “He won’t refuse our invitation.” Mace boarded the elevator. “The bosses want us to make capturing Gabriel our priority. They’re not saying so, but they’re shutting us down soon. Now that Rice has named us New York City’s werewolf hunters, we’re just a decoy operation.”

  Landry paused. “Is that so bad if they do close our doors?”

  Mace thought about it. “No.”

  Raphael came downstairs into the living room of his Long Island safe house. Elias sat on the sofa, drinking coffee and watching the morning news. Leon and David sat in chairs doing the same. The closed curtains prevented sunlight from entering.

  “Do we have breakfast?” Raphael said.

  “I’ll get you something,” Eddie said.

  Raphael sat. “Anything new?”

  “The morning shows are treating Rice’s story like a joke,” Elias said. “This could blow up in the face of Manhattan Minute News, but it isn’t going down without a fight.” He switched the channel to Manhattan Minute News and raised the volume.

  A middle-aged black man with wire-rimmed glasses spoke to a reporter. “I know what I saw on TV. You can call them what you want, but those were werewolves.”

  A young white man with horn-rimmed glasses replaced him. “Yeah, I saw it a hundred times. I’ve got it saved to my hard drive.”

  “Do you think it’s real?” the female reporter said offscreen.

  “I don’t believe in monsters, but that looked real to me. And those two Domini guys were there. I believe everything the story said about the Brotherhood of Torquemada. It all makes sense.”

  A black woman in her thirties got her turn. “I saw it. I don’t care what you say; there’s no way that was real.” She shook her head. “People around here are acting crazy. It’s Christmastime, not Halloween.”

  Another middle-aged man spoke. “Yes, I believe it. Maybe they weren’t werewolves, but they sure weren’t human, and don’t tell me that was just another dogfight in the Bronx. Did you see the size of them? It was scary. It isn’t safe around here.”

  The image shifted to an Asian woman sitting at the Manhattan Minute News desk. “And there you have it, diverse reaction this morning to our exclusive report from Carl Rice that shows something no one’s seen before.”

  Elias muted the volume. “Even people on the street know your name.”

  “We never should have gone to that meeting,” Raphael said in a tight voice.

  “You’re the one who insisted on seizing power according to pack rules.”

  “The timing was bad. Gomez’s escape changed every-thing.”

  “No doubt. But last night was your only chance. If you hadn’t gone, Gabriel would have dissolved the pack. Your only mistake was being so aggressive.”

  Raphael’s voice turned even. “He was so calm, so damned agreeable. I hate when he uses logic. I wanted to make him lose control.”

  “Would you have killed him?”

  “No. He’s my brother. But I would have beaten him to within an inch of his life so no one would have doubted who deserves to lead the pack. It doesn’t matter now, does it?”

  “Of course not.” Elias gestured at the TV. “With all this attention, New York is the last place on earth for our kind to flourish.”

  “They’ll be leaving in droves or lying low and avoiding contact with each other.”

  “Do you blame them? No one ever attempted a pack this size before your father. It was grandiose but impractical.”

  “He had a vision,” Raphael said with admiration.

  “But a faulty one. Gabriel’s mistake was expanding it.”

  Raphael exhaled. “Where will you go now?”

  Elias smiled. “I’m not going anywhere. I have no place to go.” He sat forward. “We can’t have the Greater Pack of New York City because it’s falling apart, but we can still have a pack. Our species still needs to survive.”

  Raphael’s voice softened. “Who will follow me after this? I’ve endangered everyone.”

  “Will you run to Canada like the others? Or France or Italy?”

  “My place is here.”

  “Others will stay too.” He turned to Leon. “Will you still follow Raphael?”

  “Sure,” Leon said.

  Eddie came out of the kitchen with a plate of eggs and bacon.

  “How about you, Eddie? Will you follow Raphael if he asks you to?”

  Eddie handed the plate to Raphael. “Raphie’s my bro. Where else can I go now?”

  Elias returned his gaze to Raphael. “So there are at least four of us. We’ll find others, including females. We’ll build our own pack.”

  Raphael felt skeptical. “And live happily ever after, with the government on our tail?”

  “That will never be the case. But we can make our people safe at least.”

  “How?”

  “This man Mace turned out to be trouble, just like you predicted,” Elias said. “It’s because of him and your brother that the government is aware of us. Don’t ever forget that. We need to know what the police know about us before we can do anything else.”

  “Karol Williams is the only Wolf on the force, and she’s solid with Gabriel.”

  “Then we’ll have to grab her.”

  Cheryl scooped mush into Patty’s mouth. The toddler spat it out and giggled. Cheryl wanted to scold her, but she couldn’t suppress her own laughter.

  “Let’s try that again,” she said.

  The landline rang, and Anna walked into the kitchen. “Do you want me to get that?”

  “No. Would you mind taking over here for a minute?”

  “Sure.” Anna crouched before the high chair and took the spoon. “Come on, precious.”

  Recognizing the number on the cordless phone, Cheryl answered and went into the living room.

  “Thank God you picked up,” Colleen said.

  Cheryl’s body tensed. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “I think I’ve made a terrible mistake. I need a friend to talk to.”

  “You know I’m here for you.” Cheryl pulled back the curtain on the front window and glanced at the police car parked below. At least it had stopped snowing.

  “I’m catching a lot of flak for running Carl’s story last night.”

  Cheryl let the curtain fall back into place. “So why did you run it?”

  “Did you see the footage?”

  She had been able to think of little
else. “Yes.”

  “It was fucking sensational. Our overnights were through the roof. How could I say no to that opportunity?”

  “Other networks would have, or Carl would have gone to them.”

  “Touché but they all covered us.”

  “They’re laughing at you.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m sorry if you’re getting blowback on this, but you should have known better.”

  “It’s horrible. The station owner called me last night, then again this morning. God knows what I’m going to find when I go into the office.”

  “Are you planning to put Carl on the air again?”

  “I don’t have any choice. I promised him a contract.”

  “Oh, Colleen . . .”

  “He caught me at the perfect time. My life has been crazy too since that night, and trying to keep this ship afloat without you . . .”

  Cheryl tightened her grip on the phone. “Don’t blame this on me.”

  “Of course not. Oh, honey, I would never do that. I just feel so helpless. You’re the only one I can turn to.”

  Cheryl took a breath. “How can I help?”

  “Please believe that I wouldn’t even ask if it wasn’t important.”

  “Spit it out.”

  “It would really solidify my position and put Carl’s story in a more positive light if you would consent to be interviewed for MMN.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “You haven’t spoken to the press about what happened that night or what those guys in the Brotherhood were like—what they wanted from you—or how Tony rescued you. That kind of human face could really—”

  Cheryl hung up.

  Twenty-Seven

  Karol awoke feeling drained of her emotions. She took a long shower and forced herself to eat a full breakfast. She would glance at the clock, then at Rhonda’s bedroom door. So this was what it felt like to be a parent. First she had lost her mate, now her surrogate daughter.

  She’s not my daughter. She’s a troubled kid I feel sorry for.

  Karol picked up her phone and called Rhonda again.

 

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