Kilpatrick cleared his throat, and Vall felt more questions coming. It seemed that his partner couldn’t go more than half an hour without eating, drinking coffee, or otherwise flapping his jaws.
“So, are you going to talk to me, or are you gonna fly that buzzard scowl all the way back to Chi-No?”
Vall sighed and gave in to the inevitable. “That was Chicago’s elder. My old boss. He implied the BOS snatched Veronica in retaliation for your arrests today.”
Kilpatrick twisted his mouth. “Nope. I don’t buy it. An abduction takes time and planning. Hell, we didn’t finish up until five o’clock. Besides, this didn’t start today, so stop feeling guilty.”
Vall thought about his partner’s words, which actually made sense. That was a scary thought, and it gave him pause, but the silence only spurred Kilpatrick on.
“So who’s this elder?”
“I can’t tell you.” Certain aspects of the vampire community weren’t to be shared with humans, especially information regarding a doyen.
“He the reason you left Chicago?”
“You know, sometimes I think some of the meat in your head is actually brain matter.”
“Thanks, I think. Listen, this exchange—you for the girl. Why you? I’m thinking it’s personal. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not all that important, are you?”
No. He was just a working stiff. Nestor didn’t give a rat’s ass for him, and he’d never held a place of prominence in Nestor’s circle. The Department barely tolerated him. He wasn’t a political being, nor was he an activist for vampire rights. His women and blood donors varied. He was what he was—an unimportant loner. And yet someone was taking great pains with him.
Cade. Cade was the only person he had perhaps ever meant anything to. Was he somehow a threat to Cade? Did he consider him a future rival? Vall would be coming of age soon and would be a doyen in his own right. His mind circled the possibilities time and again and kept coming back to Cade.
“No, no offense taken. I’m not that important.”
Kilpatrick stared straight ahead, watching the road, but he shook his head. “Never thought I’d hear a squid admit that. Are you going to do it? Make the exchange?”
“I don’t see that I have a choice.”
“If it is the BOS, you know they’ll have Claws.”
That one was so obvious Vall didn’t answer.
Kilpatrick, seemingly not discouraged by silence, went on, “Maybe we will have a choice. Let the hostage negotiators earn their pay, or send in the Tac Squad.”
He didn’t answer that one, either. Kilpatrick didn’t know the BOS. They didn’t negotiate. What they wanted was what they wanted.
And for some reason, they wanted him.
KIL GRIPPED THE steering hard, glad to be driving. He was dog-tired, and it would have been nice not to have to drive so he could relax, but in his present state, he decided it was better to keep his mind occupied. Too much had happened today, and if he had time to think about all of it, he’d go crazy.
So he thought about his partner instead. With whatever discord Duvall had going with his ex-elder, and now Veronica Main’s abduction, the squid wasn’t faring much better. He wished Duvall would lose the aloof attitude and tell him what was going on, but prying even idle chatter out of him was like trying to force a suspect to open his mouth.
He glanced at Duvall and wondered what he was thinking. Cops were trained to survive and not to think about dying, but he couldn’t imagine the mindset of an immortal who was facing what was practically a suicide mission. Did vampires even worry about dying in the same way humans did? After existing for hundreds of years, did any of them ever welcome death?
The thought made him uneasy. No cop wanted to be partnered with someone who was reckless, careless, or otherwise had a cavalier attitude about survival. Those with a death wish tended to take those around them down with them.
He tried to restart the conversation. “You aren’t really planning on doing this exchange, are you?
Duvall brushed the hair out of his face, and by the light of the expressway lights, Kil saw a cold smile.
“Sure I am. You think anyone in the Department cares if I take a Claw for a good cause? The brass are probably meeting right now, thinking how lucky they are to get a hostage freed so cheaply.”
It wasn’t exactly what Kilpatrick wanted to hear. “Don’t give me that. You’re important to someone. That’s the whole point. Look, Duvall, there’s something I gotta know. You got a death wish?”
Duvall laughed. “Hell, no. Even if I did, I’d want to do this and walk out in one piece just to spite every bastard in the Department and BOS both. But no, I don’t have a death wish.”
“Good.”
They drove past the Police Administration Building. All was surprisingly quiet. No news trucks were planted out front, and no mob of angry citizens was braving the cold to swarm the PAB to demand either vampire or human justice. The Department’s cover-up of all that had happened lately had obviously not yet been blown. They pulled into the garage and took the elevator upstairs. Even the detective assembly was quiet.
Vall walked up to Mavra, who had stopped typing the moment he and Kilpatrick had entered the room. “Where is everybody?”
Her dark eyes swept the room, as if she were afraid to speak for fear of being overheard, but there was no one nearby. “There’s a big meeting on the seventh floor. I’m not sure what’s going on, but the lieutenant told me to ring upstairs the minute you guys got here.”
Vall raised his brows and nodded toward the phone. Mavra picked it up and punched in an extension. “Yes sir, it’s Mavra. Duvall and Kilpatrick just arrived. There was a pause, another “yessir,” and she hung up. “Lieutenant Butler says he’ll be right down.”
Kilpatrick snorted. “Yeah, that means twenty minutes, at least.” He headed for the coffee room, leaving Duvall and Mavra alone.
“What’s going on? What did you guys do?” she asked.
Vall wanted to know the same thing. “Why? What’s being said?” Black rumors flew around the office like bats, and he had no doubt Mavra had heard her share.
“Well, first there was the buzz about you and Veronica Main. Then I heard they sent you to Chicago . . .”
But Lt. Butler strode into the room before Mavra could continue. He pointed to Vall and Kilpatrick, who had sat down at his desk with his coffee. “Both of you, in my office.”
They followed him into his office, and Kilpatrick closed the door behind them.
“This was delivered downstairs at six o’clock tonight.” He pressed a button, and the disk played. It showed a young dark-haired woman sitting in a chair and holding the front page of a newspaper in front of her chest. The shot zoomed in, showing Veronica Main’s unsmiling face and the masthead on the paper. It showed today’s edition. Veronica started speaking. Her eyes were puffy and red, but her mouth didn’t quiver.
“To the Chi-No Police Department—the time has come for action. The so-called night people you have allowed to live among you have been exposed as the killing machines they are. It is their nature to kill for blood, and their nature, not your laws, will continue to rule them in the years to come. You cannot legislate the nature of the beast. Those humans who believed the danger could be held at bay by laws and technology have had their chance. Their peace is not working. It will never work. The time has come to reveal their peace as the sham it is.”
Vall admired her courage, even as she took a shaky breath and continued, “The time has come for truth. Former Senator Lawrence Main will make a statement to the press tonight before midnight regarding the synthetic blood he and those like him have predicated their peace on. Much of the blood supply has been poisoned, and while we applaud the effort to kill the undead, such efforts are misguided.”
Her mouth h
ardened, and Vall knew the worst was still to come. “My name is Veronica Main. I’m Lawrence Main’s daughter. If my father wants to see me alive, he will make the above statement. After the statement is made, my captors have promised to release me, but only in an exchange for Detective Duvall of the Chi-No Police Department.”
“We will call you at eleven o’clock to give you the address of the exchange point. We will not negotiate. If Lawrence Main refuses to make the statement, or if any attempt is made to send in officers other than Detective Duvall, I will be killed.”
The monitor went blank.
Butler pointed at Kilpatrick. “You—outside and wait. And no phone calls. That’s an order. You leak one word of this, and you’re history.”
Kilpatrick rose, mumbled a halfway respectful “yessir” and left the room, closing the door behind him.
Butler looked Vall in the eye. “Lawrence Main is upstairs now with the Chief, the Deputy Inspector, Captain Hollingsworth, and Lieutenant Zane.”
Vall knew that Hollingsworth and Zane were in command of the Tactical Enforcement Unit, and that the Tac Squad responded to all hostage situations.
“He wants his daughter back. He’s willing to make the statement to the press. It’s true the synthetic blood has been tampered with and is responsible for the vampire deaths.”
As if Vall didn’t know. How stupid did they think he was?
Butler went on. “Main owns the bottling plant responsible for the tainted blood. But he has a whole lot of questions, just as we do. First and foremost, just what do you have to do with his daughter?”
He sighed. There was no point in denying the truth, but he put it a little more delicately than he had to Cade. Telling Lt. Butler that Veronica had been one of his “kills” wouldn’t go over well. “I dated her. Once.”
“Jesus Christ. Dated as in sex?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Christ Almighty. Tell me, at least, that you didn’t know who she was.”
“I knew. Her father helped negotiate the peace.”
Butler sighed. “I doubt his liberalism extends to wanting someone with fangs nailing his daughter.”
“You may not like it, and Lawrence Main may not like it, but mortal-vampire liaisons are here to stay.”
“Never mind that now. Is there anything else we should know about you and Miss Main?”
“No. I told you—it was only one night. And you can forget about the Tac Squad. It’s a sure bet the Brothers of the Sun have her. They’re not amateurs. They’ll have gas masks and better weaponry than we do. Tell Main and the Chief I’m willing to make the exchange. If Mr. Main wants his daughter alive, and if you want to know who’s behind all this, your only chance is for me to nab one of them alive.”
Butler’s jaw was locked tighter than a vise. It wasn’t hard to see he didn’t like being told what to do by a subordinate, and an undead one at that, but neither could he argue with what Vall said.
“You know they’ll have Claws.”
Vall shrugged. “Put me in a vest.”
“Go wait with your partner, and what I told him goes double for you. No calls. None of what we talked about or what you saw on that video leaves this room. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll present your offer to Main. And I’ll say only that you met his daughter and dated her. We’ll keep the rest between you and me for now. If you and she get out of this in one piece, you can take it up with her father then.”
But you’re hoping I don’t get out in one piece, aren’t you, Lieutenant? “Just so you know, Lieut, there’s nothing between Veronica and me. It didn’t work out. So you and her father and all those like you can sleep better at night.”
Butler gave him a look, but didn’t say anything more. Vall joined his partner and sat down across from him at his desk.
“So?” asked Kilpatrick.
“I offered to make the exchange.”
“That was it?”
Vall smiled. “That, and I told him I screwed Main’s daughter.”
Kilpatrick leaned forward, and his jawed dropped like a rock. “You’re shittin’ me.”
“Nope.”
“I’ll bet that went over big. Hell, they’ll want to send you in for the exchange just hoping you’ll get offed. With you gone, they’d have a lot less embarrassment to deal with.”
Vall flashed his fangs at Kilpatrick. They were starting to think alike. Now that was scary. “My thought exactly. I’m confident the lieutenant’ll go to bat for me.”
A HALF HOUR LATER Lt. Butler rejoined them. “Main still insists on making the statement, and he’s agreed to allow you to make the exchange. I told him you and Veronica had met, but nothing more. Maybe he suspects the truth, but he didn’t hear it from me. In any case, he’s chosen not to meet with you ahead of time. Given the circumstances, I hope you’ll understand.”
Sure, he understood. Main was hoping he’d die in the attempt to save his daughter. That would tie up all the loose ends neatly as far as Lawrence Main was concerned. Except you’d still have a war on your hands, wouldn’t you? But maybe Main didn’t care about that. “Sure, Lieut. I understand.”
“We’re calling the TV stations now and announcing the press conference for ten o’clock. In the meantime, go down to the Ready Room. Lieutenant Zane’ll meet you there. He’ll fit you with a jumpsuit, ballistic vest, and anything else you need.”
Butler turned to go.
“Lieut. I want Kilpatrick with me up until the time I go in.”
The lieutenant turned and stared first at him, then his partner, then raised both brows as if he was as surprised as he’d been to learn Vall had been fucking the Senator’s daughter. “Sure. I expect my detectives to work together.”
Like hell.
VALL AND KIL TOOK the elevator down to the subbasement of the Police Administration Building, where the Ready Room, an unpretentious jumble of lockers, shelves and locked rooms, occupied a corner of the lower garage. The locked rooms housed all the weaponry and equipment for the Tac Squad not assigned to be in the care and custody of individual officers. Lt. Zane, the late-power shift Tac boss, waited for them.
The first thing they did was wire Vall for hands-free radio transmissions. Zane fitted him with an earpiece for reception and a small speaker unit taped to his chest below his collar bone.
“You’ll be on a restricted channel, talking directly to me,” said Zane.
Vall shook his head. “No. I communicate only with Kilpatrick.” He didn’t trust Zane, Butler, or any of the rest of them.
Zane looked from him to Kilpatrick as if they were children. “Listen, no offense, Detective, but you haven’t gone through tactical training, have you?”
Kilpatrick’s gaze met Vall’s with both brows raised, and Vall wasn’t sure if it was surprise at his request, or apology for not having the specialized training.
“No, I haven’t,” said Kilpatrick.
“Well, neither have I,” said Vall, “so we’ll understand each other just fine. If you need to instruct me tactically, Lieutenant, you can do it through my partner.”
“Maybe we should call Lieutenant Butler down here,” said Zane, as if that would intimidate Vall.
“Go ahead, call him. While you’re at it, tell him that if we don’t do this my way, I don’t do it.”
Zane called Butler, who called the Deputy Inspector, who called the Chief, and after a lot of time was wasted in figuring out just who was calling the shots, Vall got his way. Next, they sized him for a black jumpsuit and a ballistic vest. The vest was soft body armor, but with a modified metal strikeplate on both the front and the back to protect the spine. Vall knew it had been specifically designed for vampire officers when the undead were first hired five years ago, but to Vall’s knowledge, no vamp had ever worn a ves
t on the job. It was a point of pride.
“This’ll stop a Claw, without a doubt. A Claw has expansion, but not much penetration,” touted Zane.
“I know how a Claw works, Lieutenant,” said Vall, injecting as much dryness into his voice as he could.
“Of course,” said Zane.
The jumpsuit was loaded with pockets on the legs, but Zane gave Vall a nylon Sam Browne belt as well to hold handcuffs, two flashlights, a canister of pepper spray, a tactical folding knife, leather gloves, latex gloves, and folding hand tools. Vall turned down the gas mask and helmet. Gas had no effect on him, and his senses would be hampered by a helmet. Both Kilpatrick and Zane protested.
“Listen, Duvall. One shot to the noggin with a Claw, and it’s all over,” said Kilpatrick.
“And you listen. My senses are my greatest assets out there, especially my hearing and sight. It’s how I’ll know exactly where they and the girl are. That bucket and face shield cut down both. I can’t afford to give up my edge.”
“Even for your life?”
“No.”
Kilpatrick and Zane gave up the fight after that. The only thing Zane didn’t offer him was a gun. It was against Rules and Regulations and would have required written authorization from the Chief to make an exception. No one had thought to ask the Chief ahead of time.
With Vall loaded down like a frontline soldier, Zane locked the Ready Room and looked at his watch. “Almost time for the press conference. You’re coming upstairs to watch it, aren’t you?”
“Sure,” said Kilpatrick. “We’ll be up in a minute.”
Zane nodded. “Oh, one more thing.” He opened a locker in the corner of the garage. “The Vice Squad uses this as a spare locker. A lot of them have long hair. Use these if you want to control that mane of yours.” He tossed Vall a piece of material.
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