Redzone

by William C. Dietz

  “I can’t share that information with you at this time,” Lee said stiffly.

  Zumin smiled sweetly. “Please let me know when you can. It seems there might be a hidden hero in all of this.”

  The presser came to a conclusion a few minutes later and Lee was free to go home. More than that she had to go home pending the finding of another shooting review board. Everyone agreed that it was a no-brainer. Even so the process would have to be coordinated with the Riverside Sheriff’s Department—and that was likely to drag it out. Kane saw that as a plus—and said so as he drove her home. “You could use time off,” he said. “The break will be good for you.”

  And it was good for her. Lee made use of the time to rent a storage unit for her bike, to file an insurance claim, and to check on her former neighbors. Mr. Henry blamed her for the loss of his home, but he had renter’s insurance and would be okay. The others were more generous and wished her well.

  But even with all of that, there was plenty of time to spend with Kane, and Lee could tell that this man was different. Maybe it was because of his profession, but whatever the reason, Lee felt that Kane understood her in a way that no one else had.

  So one thing led to another, and Kane’s plan to seduce her finally paid off. And when that took place, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Almost as if they had made love before. And Lee liked that because in the past she had climbed to the top of some romantic mountaintops only to fall into the valley below.

  That’s why Lee was a little disappointed when the e-mail arrived. “You have been cleared for a return to duty,” the message said. “So quit goofing off and get your butt in here.” It was from Jenkins.

  Kane made dinner and they ate on the deck. This was when Lee realized that she had yet to look at a single apartment. Was this because she’d been so busy putting her life back together? Or was it because some part of her didn’t want to find a place of her own? And what would that mean? Lee chose to ignore the questions and watch the sun go down.

  The next couple of days were busy, but routinely so, until Lee got a call from Kane. “Hey, hon,” he said. “What time will you be home?”

  That wasn’t unusual since she often ran late—and Kane did most of the cooking. Lee looked at her watch. “I’ll be there by five thirty.”

  “That’s good,” Kane replied. “I thought we’d go out for sushi. I’ll make the reservations. See you then.”

  The line went dead, and bells began to ring in Lee’s head. Kane loved seafood but hated sushi. And he never hung up without saying something lovably sappy. What should she do? Ignore her suspicions? Or take them seriously?

  You should take them seriously, the voice inside her answered. Maybe the Bonebreaker is waiting for you . . . Or maybe Crystal Bye is holding a gun on Kane. Something is wrong.

  Shit, shit, shit, Lee thought to herself as she went to see Wolfe. Would the other policewoman pooh-pooh her concerns? Or take them seriously? Of course Wolfe had been straight up on the Baxter thing—so maybe she’d be equally reliable this time.

  The answer came quickly once Wolfe understood the situation. “I’ll talk to the SWAT team,” Wolfe said, as she dialed her phone. “They have the resources we need.”

  Lee had to agree even though she was still worried about the possibility of a misunderstanding. As Wolfe spoke to Lieutenant Mick Ferris, Lee glanced at her watch. An hour and a half. That’s how much time they had before she was supposed to arrive at the condo. What would happen to Kane if she was late? What if somebody killed him because of her? Lee felt sick to her stomach.

  “Ferris is on his way,” Wolfe said, as she put the phone down. “Everything needs to look normal. Someone has you under surveillance. So if you leave early, or if you leave late, they’ll know.”

  That made sense . . . And Lee was reminded of Bye and the helicopter in Las Vegas. “Maybe it’s Bye,” Lee put in. “If so, she had a helicopter in the red zone. And there’s a pad on the roof of the building that Kane lives in.”

  Wolfe swore and placed another call. Then she was back. “Our birds crisscross the city all day. One of them will let me know if a helicopter is sitting on the roof.”

  No introductions were required as Ferris entered the office since both women had worked with him in the past. He had a young-old face, a salt-and-pepper buzz cut, and a lean frame. With the seconds ticking away there was no time to waste on small talk. “Tell me everything you know about the building,” Ferris said, “starting with the location. My team is checking to see what’s available online.”

  Lee gave him the address, a brief description of the building, and mentioned the presence of the structures that flanked it. “Good,” Ferris said. “I’ll be back in a sec . . . But first I need to put some people into the neighborhood.”

  “We think the perps have the area under surveillance,” Wolfe said tactfully.

  “I won’t send the war wagon,” Ferris replied, “if that’s what you’re worried about. My team will infiltrate the area two at a time in civilian clothes. Excuse me . . . I need to get them under way.” And with that Ferris stepped out of the office to use a handheld radio.

  “Okay,” Wolfe said. “So let’s talk about your role—and how this is likely to go down. There are a couple of possibilities. You go home, enter the condo, and someone shoots you. Or you go home, enter the condo, and he or she talks to you. Then the perp shoots you—followed by Kane.”

  “Thanks for the pep talk, I feel better now,” Lee said.

  Wolfe shrugged. “I’m about keeping it real,” she said. “Since there’s no reason to waste time on scenario one—let’s talk about scenario two. If they want to talk chances are they will take your weapons—or force you to surrender them.”

  “Makes sense,” Lee said, as her spirits continued to fall.

  “But,” Wolfe said, as she went over to a steel cabinet, “I’m going to loan you a backup to your backup. I wore it every day when I was undercover.” Keys rattled as Wolfe opened the cabinet and gave Lee a look inside. There were all sorts of weapons in the lieutenant’s miniarmory. A collection that probably dated back to the days when Wolfe had been a kick-ass detective.

  “This is what I had in mind,” Wolfe said, as she withdrew a two-inch-wide hand-tooled belt. Lee noticed that the buckle was a large Western-style oval with a large chunk of turquoise fastened to it. How that might help wasn’t apparent until Wolfe pressed the spring-loaded front piece—and it popped open to reveal a tiny derringer. “It’s single action, I’m afraid,” Wolfe confessed. “And it fires .22 long rifle cartridges. But something is better than nothing. Try it on.”

  Lee removed the one she was wearing, wrapped the new belt around her waist, and discovered that two simple hooks were used to fasten it. And judging from the wear marks Wolfe had the same size waist that she did. Once the rig was secured, Lee tried touching the blue stone with her left hand and grabbing the little revolver with her right. It worked quite well. “Thanks,” Lee said. “I appreciate it.”

  “It looks good with jeans,” Wolfe said lightly. “And tee shirts.”

  Lee laughed as Ferris entered the room. “So here’s how we’re going to handle it,” he said. “Lee will leave the building with a cop in the trunk of her sedan. She’ll drive home, enter the parking garage, and let him out. That has to happen smoothly in order to avoid detection—and let’s hope there isn’t a car right behind hers.

  “Lee will park her vehicle and go over to the lift. My officer will arrive separately in case the perp or perps placed a wireless camera down there. The elevator will take them up to three where my guy will get off. Lee will proceed to four. I can’t predict what will happen next . . . That will depend on what we hear via the wire Lee will be wearing.”

  Lee cleared her throat. “And if they shoot me off the top?”

  “We’ll make sure they die,” Ferris said grimly. “By the way . . . It turns out that a chopper is sitting on the roof of the building. So we put two air force g
unships on standby. And there’s a good chance that Kane is being held by Crystal Bye rather than the Bonebreaker.”

  “Okay then,” Lee said grimly. “It’ll be nice to see her again.”

  Ferris smiled. “We’ll have snipers in the surrounding buildings. You described Kane’s unit as having large windows. So it may be possible to solve a few problems from afar . . . Hit the deck if we do.”

  A tech arrived at that point. She was carrying a mike and transmitter, both of which could be concealed beneath the body armor that Lee was told to put on. “Most cops wear it,” she said. “So no one will be surprised. And you’ll need to insert these nostril filters just in case.”

  Lee knew the filters were a good idea, but knew it would be damned hard to avoid breathing through her mouth in such a stressful situation, and was worried about Kane’s health, too . . . If the mutants were holding him captive Kane was in double jeopardy.

  After a few minutes in the nearest restroom Lee emerged ready to go. Or if not ready, then somewhat prepared. At that point all she could do was head down to her car, get in, and drive home. What was it like to make the trip in the trunk? she wondered. It would be dark—like the interior of a coffin. And what about Kane? Was he scared? Was he going to die because of her? If so, they would go out together.

  Lee pushed the thought aside as she threaded her way through traffic. It had been a sunny day, but the air was starting to cool, and it would be dark before long. Was that part of Bye’s plan? To escape during the hours of darkness? No, the whole thing will be over before sunset, she thought to herself as the cluster of condo buildings appeared up ahead. “We’re almost there,” she said for the benefit of the man in the trunk. “Get ready.”

  Lee eyed the rearview mirror as she turned off the street and steered the car in under the building Kane lived in. There were no vehicles behind her, so she braked and pulled the trunk release. The cop vaulted out of the car with briefcase in hand. There was a thump as he closed the lid—and that was Lee’s signal to pull forward. “He’s out of the car,” she said for the SWAT team’s benefit. “And I’m about to park.”

  Lee was as frightened as she’d ever been as she got out of the car. It was one thing to walk into a dicey situation with at least a few advantages and something else to go in with none. Everything was hyperreal. The faint smell of exhaust. The pores in the concrete walls. And the rasp of her own breathing. In fact, the whole experience was so intense, it was like being on some sort of upper.

  A glass door swished out of the way as Lee entered the elevator lobby—and the cop with the briefcase appeared seconds later. He smiled and nodded. It was Tanaka! A guy she had worked with before and was a cool customer. A morale booster for sure.

  The elevator arrived and the officers got in. They knew it might be bugged and were silent as it rose. A tone sounded as they arrived on three, and Tanaka got off. Lee knew he would report in and struggled to control the way her hands were shaking as the lift stopped on four.

  There were four large condos on the “Vista” floor but only two that looked out onto the ocean. Lee turned right and approached Kane’s front door. They could see her through the peephole if nothing else. Would someone open the door and jerk her inside? No one did.

  What if she was wrong? What if Kane was standing in the kitchen making predinner drinks? Lee inserted the key and gave it a turn to the right. Then she opened the door. That was when hands grabbed Lee, pulled her into the condo, and threw her down. Hands explored her body, found the pistols, and took them. A couple of men hoisted her up onto her feet. Hoods concealed their faces. “She’s wearing body armor,” one of them said. “But that’s all.”

  Crystal Bye stood with her hands at her sides. Both her snow-white hair and her makeup were perfect. And when she smiled Lee saw that her teeth were flawless as well. “Body armor, huh?” the assassin said. “Well, that won’t keep me from shooting you in the face, now will it?”

  It’s option two! Lee’s inner voice chortled. Stretch it. “No, it won’t,” Lee replied as she took a look around. The place was a mess. It looked as though Kane had put up a fight. Was he still alive? It was as if Bye could read her mind.

  “Your boyfriend took a beating but he’s still with us. We’ll pop him on our way out.”

  “Five of you?” Lee said contemptuously. “It takes five assassins to smoke a psychologist and one cop?” The SWAT team would hear that of course—and know what they were up against.

  “There are five of us,” Bye agreed. “But all it will take is one bullet to shut your mouth.” The long-barreled pistol came up, and was aimed at Lee’s face, when a window shattered. The report was like an afterthought. And the second bullet, the one that could fly straight and true because there wasn’t any glass in the way, hit a mutant in the head. Blood sprayed the floor as he went down.

  That was Lee’s signal to throw herself sideways. She landed hard, and her fingers were clawing at the fancy belt buckle as the surviving assassins hit the floor, and more slugs tore into the walls. “It’s a trap!” Bye shouted, as some of her people went to the shattered window and fired their handguns. That was a mistake and one of them was thrown back onto the floor.

  By that time Lee had the tiny pistol in her hand. Each action seemed to take forever as she pulled the hammer back, took aim, and fired. There was a pop, and the bullet hit a spot two feet above Bye’s head! The derringer was worthless.

  Lee rolled to the left as Bye fired. The bullet came within an inch of Lee’s face and ripped a splinter out of Kane’s hardwood floor. Lee pushed herself up and over as she came into contact with the dead man’s body. Then she scrabbled for his gun, got a grip on it, and began what promised to be a time-consuming turn.

  Bye fired again. But, like Lee, the assassin was on the floor—and the body separated them. The corpse jerked and geysers of blood shot up into the air as each bullet hit. Lee, who was still in the process of turning, fired five times in rapid succession. Not with any hope of hitting her opponent—but in an effort to force Bye’s head down. And the strategy worked. Suddenly, Lee was there, sighting over the body, her finger pressed against the trigger. Time slowed, and a .9mm slug flew straight and true.

  Given the angle, the bullet hit the top of Bye’s right shoulder, broke her clavicle, and went deep into her chest. Her eyes widened, a look of surprise appeared on her face, and Lee nodded. “Bye-bye, bitch.”

  Suddenly, the front door burst open, and Tanaka entered. He was holding an Uzi Pro. It burped three-round bursts as the last two assassins turned to fire at him. They staggered and fell. The acrid odor of gunpowder was thick in the air as Lee spoke into the mike. “Tanaka is here . . . The condo is secure. I’m about to stand up.”

  Lee stood, thanked Tanaka, and went looking for Kane. He was lying faceup in a blood-smeared bathtub. His face was puffy, one eye was swollen closed, and plastic ties had been used to secure his extremities. He turned to Lee and attempted to smile. “Sorry, hon . . . Dinner’s going to be late.”

  * * *

  The sun-splashed lounge chairs were positioned in front of a glittering pool beyond which the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean could be seen. A freighter was working its way north, but, other than that, there were only the wheeling gulls to capture her eye.

  A month had passed since the shoot-out in the condo, and a great deal had occurred. Lee had been cleared by yet another shooting review board, neither one of them was BN positive, and Kane’s newly refurbished home was up for sale. “I’m ready for a new view,” is the way he put it. But Lee knew it was more than that. Neither one of them could sit down in the living room without remembering what had taken place there.

  As for the future . . . Well, that was something the couple planned to discuss while they vacationed in Santa Barbara. Maybe this and maybe that . . . Time would tell. Lee glanced at Kane and saw that he was reading. She closed her eyes. The sun was warm, and the ocean breeze was cool. Dreams beckoned.

  * * *

  I
t was cold in the ossuary . . . And the only sound was the steady drip, drip, drip of water finding its way down from above. But the Bonebreaker didn’t care about that. He was focused on the beautiful white femur that lay on the table before him. The inscription was finished and that meant he would send the final product to Cheyenne Darling soon. It was a present . . . Something she could place on a bookshelf in her living room. After that? God wanted to confront Cassandra Lee next . . . And it was the Bonebreaker’s duty to send her along.

  Don’t miss the third Mutant Files novel

  GRAVEYARD

  Coming February 2016 from Ace Books!

  SUNDAY SCHOOL TEACHER Misty Roker was having a nice day until her students found a body behind St. Patrick’s Church in south LA. Roker was in her classroom, putting instructional materials away, when sixteen-year-old Emily Stills burst into the room. “Miss Roker! A man is lying in the parking lot—and there’s something wrong with his face!”

  Sunday school was over, but the children’s parents were still attending Mass, so Misty instructed Emily to remain in the classroom while she went outside to investigate. A tiny playground had been built behind the church a few years earlier. It was fenced in and the children were gathered at the gate that provided access to the parking lot. Their backs were turned, and Misty could tell that they were staring at something. She clapped her hands. “Go inside, children . . . Emily is waiting for you.”

  As the children turned in her direction Misty could see the worried looks on their faces and felt the first stirrings of concern. She had assumed that a drunk was passed out behind the church. That would require some explanation but she could handle it. Now, based on the complete lack of chatter, Misty sensed that something much worse was in the offing.