by Matt Lincoln
The director stalked out of the room and slammed the door behind her hard enough to shake the cheap wall art askew.
Holm swore under his breath, and Muñoz’s dagger-glare damned near drew blood. Birn just shook his head and walked over to the window.
“Our vic, maybe. But this friend? We don’t need someone who has studied trafficking for the mission,” Muñoz seethed. “We are the experts. This has FUBAR written all over it.”
With Muñoz’s penchant for dragging other agents to the gym when she was pissed, I had to wonder if I was in for a pounding.
“Luci wants to fight back,” I said. “She saw a few landmarks while being moved around the island a few times. Emily mostly wants to help Luci by being there for her, and if she knows anything that can help, that’s what she wants to offer. They both know the dangers.”
Birn left the window. He looked at me with a closed expression.
“You guys figure it out,” he told us. “I’m going to check with Cyber to see if they’re ready.”
Holm kept his eyes narrowed but chose not to say anything.
“What, exactly, are they supposed to do to help the case?” Muñoz demanded. “And what resources will you use to keep them safe? That’s not on Birn or me.” She stabbed her forefinger toward me. “Do not even try to hire Forde’s family as bodyguards. We don’t know jack about them.”
Why did I want so badly for Emily and Luci to go with us? They’d be safer in Miami under MBLIS protection. God, I was getting soft.
“I don’t disagree with you about that security group,” I told Muñoz. “We can figure out security arrangements in the morning.” My phone vibrated in my pocket. I got it out and saw Rucker’s ugly mug on caller ID. “Marston.”
“Get to the hospital,” Rucker panted into the phone. It sounded like he was running. I shot to my feet. “A group of masked gunmen stormed the place. Your vic is gone.”
17
The hospital entrance was surrounded by emergency vehicles, news trucks, and onlookers. I had to chirp my siren several times to get past the throngs. We got as close as we could, and when we got out of the car, people bombarded us with questions about loved ones in the hospital.
“Is Jenny Schwartz okay?”
“How many shots were fired?”
“My husband is in the ICU. Is he safe?”
I hate to think how long it would’ve taken us to get to the police line had we been uniformed officers in a marked car. Once we were past the people who’d seen us pull in, we pushed through in no time. One of the Metro guys recognized us and rushed us inside.
“Did they take the woman who was staying with Ramírez?” I demanded.
“Don’t know. I haven’t been in the room.”
“Casualties?” Holm asked.
“They killed two of yours and one of ours,” the officer reported as we ran up the stairwell. “There were around a dozen other people hit, including a couple doctors. We’re lucky it wasn’t worse.”
“The sons of bitches who did this won’t be so lucky when we find them,” I promised.
“Your mouth to God’s ears,” the cop answered as we burst out onto the floor. He gasped for a few breaths. “We’re pulling for that girl.”
I sprinted for Luci’s room with Holm on my heels. It was bad enough Luci was gone. If they took Emily, too, I wouldn’t forgive myself.
We got into the room and found Emily in the chair I’d left her in earlier next to the hospital bed. Her fists were on her knees, and I swear to God, I could damned near see a cloud churning over her head.
“Ethan!” She bolted to her feet when we walked into the room. “I’m gonna kill them!”
Not the reaction I expected.
“Kill who?” I could name a few individuals, like a certain grumpy detective. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
“I’m fine but freaked out,” she admitted. “And furious and scared. And I’m gonna kill those assholes who got Luci.”
She had no obvious injuries, but I saw a small patch of uneven hair tufts and scraped skin that was not there earlier. Part of me wanted to hug her, but I held back. Instead, I introduced my partner.
“Emily, this is Special Agent Holm. Robbie and I work together, and we go way back.”
Holm held out a hand. “Miss Meyer.”
Emily shook his hand but kept her eyes on me.
“We tried to stop them,” she said. “One of the police officers and I tried to hold the door shut, and the aide carried Luci to the bathroom, but they were too strong. They shot the officer and the aide right in front of me, and they threatened to kill me if she didn’t come out.”
Rucker entered the room with a mighty scowl and rounded on me.
“I got this one’s statement.” He nodded to Emily. “My department will pass it on to yours if you ask nicely. My guys found surveillance from a parking garage camera.”
He pulled out his phone. At my raised brow, he narrowed his eyes.
“The phone is new. Your people encrypted it, and they’re working on protecting existing smartphones and tablets for the rest of the brass and detectives.”
No wonder Rucker had a bigger bug than usual up his ass, and no wonder Cyber had been busier than usual. Metro had a large contingent, but Rucker’s phone would’ve been one of the first. He tapped at the screen and pulled up the video. Holm and I leaned in close to see.
A black panel van rushed in and stopped hard outside the exit they’d used. The side door slid open as five figures dressed in black, one carrying Luci, flew out the exit and into the van. Luci’s captor shoved her into the vehicle, turned to the camera, and gave it the middle finger. Then, they were gone.
Holm muttered something under his breath, and I clenched my jaw. These brazen cowards killed at least three people and injured over a dozen on the way up to Luci’s room. Nobody had told me if Emily knew that yet.
I turned to Emily. “I know you already told Rucker what happened, but we need to hear it ourselves.”
“I know how to get a statement, Marston,” Rucker barked. “You’re wasting time with this.”
I spun to face him. “Are you really going to pull this here? Of all people, you should know how important it is to go over it more than once, in case she forgot any details.”
Rucker’s face darkened. In my experience, the man hated being contradicted. Although I had fun contradicting him, I wasn’t playing around this time.
“You aren’t better than me, Marston,” Rucker seethed. “One of these days, you’ll learn that the hard way.”
I took a step forward. “Is that a threat, Rucker?” Holm put his hand on my elbow, probably in case I decided to strangle the self-righteous detective. Not that I actually would, but I couldn’t help imagining it.
“Yeah, you tough guys would like that,” he scoffed. “It’s a prediction. You break the rules and think you’ll get away with it forever. Like bringing your little girlfriend to befriend a witness. Or how you ‘interview’ suspects. Maybe everyone lets you get away with it because you’re some kind of hero to them, but I say you aren’t. Take away the fancy title, and you’re just one more mercenary waiting to smash faces.”
Rucker was right about one thing. I wanted an excuse to smash his face. Instead, I relaxed the muscles that had tensed in preparation for a fight.
“I didn’t know you cared,” I told him. “I’ll be sure to handle my caseload more like the pansy who only closes half his cases.”
“Oh, my God!” Emily’s incredulous outburst made us all freeze. “I thought you were professionals. Is this how your commanding officers want you behaving in public?”
“She has a point,” Holm chipped in, oh so helpfully. To her, he added, “I wasn’t part of this.”
“Noted,” she answered and turned to me. “If you’ll put your ego back in your pants, I’ll tell you everything that happened. Then maybe someone can get looking for Luci. You all do remember who needs your help, right?”
Rucker and I c
ontinued to glare at each other for a moment, but I let it go. Better to be the bigger person or something like that.
“I look forward to receiving a copy of the statement Emily gave your department,” I said to Rucker. “And hey, she’s not my ‘little girlfriend.’”
Rucker smirked and left.
“I’m not anyone’s girlfriend,” Emily blurted out. “And I’m ready to give my statement.”
Unlike Rucker, we led Emily to a quiet consultation room the staff allowed us to use. A medium-sized table and six chairs were set up in the center of the room. Holm set his phone to record speech to text, and I set mine to record audio. We all gave our names, and then we moved on to the events of that afternoon. I prayed something in her story would help us find Luci.
By the end of her statement, I asked her to go back to her descriptions of the gunmen.
“Was there anything unusual about either of the suspects?” I asked.
“You mean besides the fact that they both wore masks and shot guns at people?” she retorted.
“Yes.” Some people used sarcasm as a coping mechanism. I liked that about her. “Did either of them have any identifying characteristics, as far as you could tell?”
“The one in charge was tall and had a deep voice with a Bajan accent. The other one had a similar accent. He was shorter. That’s all.”
“Did they say anything, anything at all about where they might be going?” Holm asked.
She shook her head. “No, I’d remember that.”
Holm’s phone ringtone started playing. He turned off the speech to text app and answered. His eyebrows went up the moment he realized who was calling.
“Dollar Store, it’s been a while,” he said. “Yeah… Sure, that’ll work. See you in about half an hour.”
I raised an eyebrow at that. “Why are we going to see Dollar Store?”
“Says he heard a few things and wants to meet.” Holm turned to Emily. “Do you have a ride home?”
“Doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’m waiting here until you get Luci back.”
“It might be awhile.” I looked at Holm, and he shrugged. “Call your dad, have him pick you up.”
She scoffed. “I’m not a child. If I go home, I’m driving myself. Until I choose to go home, I will wait here. For Luci. So you go find her and get her back safe and sound.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Holm said with a grin. He stage-whispered, “I like this one.”
“Not the time, Robbie,” I grumbled. “Emily, promise you won’t drive anywhere on your own, please. You might feel okay right now, but once the shock wears off, stuff like this shakes up the best of us.”
“I will stay here until Luci is back. That is all I’ll say because I know you’ll bring her back tonight.”
“Okay.”
I felt like she was leaving something out. She never explained what had happened to her hairline. Maybe she’d open up later.
“C’mon, partner. Time to go shopping at the Dollar Store.”
18
Weed, body odor, motor oil, and something I didn’t even want to identify wafted ahead of our long-time informant. Wendell Muskie, not-so-affectionately known as “Dollar Store,” had arrived.
“Hey, guys,” Dollar Store said as he walked up. “What’s chillin’?”
“Dunno,” Holm answered. “You tell us.”
“I hear things sometimes.” He flashed a grin that showed off rotting teeth and gaps where others had fallen out.
“You might wanna talk to a professional about that,” I joked.
“Funny, Marston.” Dollar Store slow-clapped the last few steps to where we stood behind Mike’s Tropical Tango Hut. “Local grapevine won’t shut up about the new game in town. Those Bajans took something, didn’t they?”
“Someone,” I growled. “Do you know where they took her?”
He held out a hand and made the universal pay-me sign with his fingers. I wanted to snap those digits, but that would get his grime on me. Instead, I tossed him a couple of the twenties we never used in Barbados. Too bad for him, the greenbacks landed in a puddle close to his feet.
“Dude, I’m doing you a favor,” the Store whined. That didn’t stop him from snatching the money out of the water. “I’m the only one stupid enough to talk. They got everyone else too scared. Me? I got nobody to threaten.”
Holm frowned. “Threaten?”
“Oh yeah,” the informant said as he stuffed the money in a grimy pocket. “That guy you’re after is a piece o’ work. Promises to kill the families of anyone who talks. His guys ain’t playin’. That crew that hit the hospital? They’re bad dudes. Ramos is lead, Kool-Man, Wilson, Trent, Slo-Mo, an’ Chuckie. They be Terror for Hire.”
“So why are you talking?” I asked.
Dollar pointed to his ears. “You gotta listen, man. I don’t got family to kill. It’s just me and my boat.”
“Then spill,” I told him. “Where’d they take the girl?”
“Get her back, man,” the Store said in a solemn tone. “Nobody deserves the shit they’re into.”
He fetched a wrinkled, torn paper scrap and held it out. A translucent area marked where something had been dropped on it. I took it by the corner and found an address in surprisingly neat handwriting.
“It’s what I heard.” Dollar Store turned to go but stopped. “I hope you find the girl. Ain’t nobody deserve that shit, man.”
“For damned sure,” I agreed. “Thanks, Wendell.”
He gave a backhanded wave as he made his way back down the alley.
I looked up the address on my phone map. The location was down near Homestead. I passed the slip to Holm and started running for the car.
“Call Ramsey,” I told him as he ran alongside me. “I want Birn and Muñoz to meet us there.”
“Got it.”
Holm made the call as I sped out from behind Mike’s bar. The only thing going for us was that we were past rush hour. On a normal day, it took about forty-five minutes to reach the area Dollar Store had indicated. That evening, it took thirty. The sun was low over an overgrown lot as we killed the siren and approached the site.
“They’re almost here,” Holm reported from the latest text. “Birn said the intel better be good.”
“It’s Dollar Store.” I shook my head. “That little weasel was born to be an informant, I’m telling you.”
A set of headlights passed over my window and then went out. Another Dodge Charger, this one white, rolled in beside mine. Birn got out of the passenger side and came to my window.
“Muñoz brought some toys,” he said in a low voice. “Flash-bangs, sonics, her favorite rifles.”
“We’re going in as quiet as possible.” I got out of the car, and Holm followed suit. We got our vests from the trunk as I explained the situation. “They’re supposed to be in there with Ramírez. The hacker might also be there, but our intel didn’t say.”
“Cracker,” Holm said.
“Whatever. Point being that we think there are two, but there may be three hostiles.”
“Copy that.” Birn cracked his gloved knuckles. “I’m ready to rescue a damsel in distress.”
“Oh my God.” Muñoz smacked his shoulder as she appeared from where she’d been getting ready. “What are you, a Dudley Do-Right? Get your vest on, you moron.”
“You people are why I’m going to hell,” Birn grumbled, but I was sure I’d heard a bit of a chuckle in there.
The empty lot led up to an industrial building with no security lights on. Its corrugated metal walls gave off a faint glow under the waning moonlight. Two semi docking bays with graffiti'd doors were on the near end of the building. The parking lot behind was full of weed-choked cracks, and a hint of burnt oil floated on the heavy night’s breeze.
Fortunately, the location Dollar Store supplied us was a small, adjacent structure that looked like it could’ve been an office or living space. This smaller building also featured corrugated metal walls. From our rear approach, I spotte
d three windows and an exit. A black panel van was parked between the two buildings. Birn and Muñoz checked the van. It was empty.
A single light was visible through one of the dusty windows, and as we closed in, I heard murmuring voices.
The plan was to creep around front with Holm while Birn and Muñoz took the rear, but we had to wait for the digital warrant and MBLIS backup. During the wait, aircraft took off and landed at the nearby airbase every so often. When a droning chopper’s sound didn’t fade, I looked up and saw it was coming in to land in front of the smaller building.
“Warrant?” Muñoz mouthed.
I shook my head. If we didn’t go in soon, we’d lose Luci for good. Using Holm’s back to hide the glow, I checked my phone again. No warrant, but there was a text from Diane.
Judge on call can’t be reached. Trying another. -DR
I zipped the phone into its case on my utility belt. There was no way back up was arriving in time. We had to do something.
“Guys, did you hear a scream?” I asked over the growing chopper noise. “I swear I heard a scream.”
“No,” Birn began. He shut up thanks to an elbow in the ribs from Muñoz. “I mean, it could be lost in the downdraft.”
“Everyone else hear a scream?”
Holm and Muñoz both nodded in the affirmative. As long as we were on the same page, that scream was all we needed. I didn’t feel the need to clarify that the scream was a helicopter turbine.
Holm and I left the other two at the rear of the building. He and I edged around to the front, which was lit by security and helicopter lights. Perfect. I gritted my teeth. There was no way to get to the front door without the person or persons in the chopper seeing us.
“We’ll get them on their way out,” Holm yelled into my ear.
I gave a thumbs-up as a flimsy white entrance door swung out and got caught in the chopper draft. It slammed into the building and stuck there. I watched a stocky, dark-skinned man dressed in black fatigues exit the building. He ran to the chopper, stayed there for a minute, and then hustled back in.