by Tom Barber
‘It won’t close now. I’d say you have about an hour before you die from blood loss. But as much as I’d enjoy watching you die slowly I don’t have time to wait, so we’d better speed this up. You’re going in that tub alive but I can’t have you thrashing around.’
Pulling a silenced pistol, she racked a round and pushed him over onto his side.
‘You should have broken my wrists, you son of a bitch,’ she told him, aiming the gun at his lower back.
Across the city, Shepherd and Hendricks were just approaching the address of the West Village safe-house, Shepherd’s concern for Archer getting them there in almost record time.
Pulling to a halt in the West Village street, the two men stepped out of the car, Shepherd double-checking the address on his cell phone. As Hendricks went to the back of the Ford, opened the trunk and retrieved their shotguns, Shepherd looked around for any sign of Archer. He couldn’t see his Ford but then again from the sound of what had happened in Queens, the car may well have taken some gunfire so Archer wouldn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention and would probably have parked it in the basement or somewhere else out of sight.
After Hendricks slammed the trunk shut, he tossed Shepherd one of two Mossbergs, and the two men approached the building, Shepherd gaining them access on the key pad by using a six digit code Ethan had texted him earlier. It had no residents at the moment, the conversion of the building from office space to apartments only just having been completed. The NYPD had taken advantage of that, buying one of the apartments as soon as it became available as a secure new safe-house.
Once inside, Shepherd eased the door shut behind him and the two men made their way up the stairs, moving fast, the building eerily quiet. Arriving outside the 4th floor apartment, Shepherd knocked on the door.
‘Arch? It’s Shepherd and Hendricks.’
Nothing.
‘Arch?’
Shepherd looked at Hendricks, who tried the door. It was locked. Stepping back, he smashed it open and the two men entered the apartment.
It was empty.
‘Shit; he didn’t make it yet,’ Shepherd said, pulling his cell. As he went to dial Archer’s number, they both heard the sound of vehicles pulling up outside, the quick screech of tyres followed by the noise of car doors opening and closing.
Both men moved quickly to the window, expecting to see the blond detective and the escort getting out of his car.
However, instead they saw a team of officers in protective combat gear and helmets carrying assault rifles stepping out of black 4x4 Escalades, gathering in a group outside the building.
It was ESU, the NYPD’s SWAT team.
His phone to his ear, Shepherd glanced at Hendricks. ‘Back-up. They got here fast.’
Hendricks didn’t reply. Swinging away from the window, he looked around the room then strode quickly towards the NYPD radio found in each safe-house, switched it on and re-tuned the frequency.
‘ESU 2 in position.’
‘Ethan, it’s me,’ Shepherd said, turning and starting to head towards the door. ‘I need you to trace the GPS on Archer’s car for me.’
However, before he could reach the door Hendricks caught him by the arm, stopping him.
‘What is it?’ Shepherd asked.
‘Suspects are armed and extremely dangerous,’ a voice over the radio said, replying for Hendricks. ‘Use whatever force necessary. Both men have assaulted NYPD officers.’
Shepherd stared at the radio, frowning. ‘What the hell?’
The two men looked at each other.
Then they suddenly realised what was happening.
Outside the building, Sergeant Michael Hicks gave the thumbs up and his team moved forward. Quickly keying in the six digit code, the ten man team flowed inside, heading immediately for the stairs.
Hicks had been an officer in ESU 2 until six months ago when the entire ESU 1 team had been killed in an operation uptown in Harlem that had gone badly wrong; the team had been replaced and Hicks promoted to Sergeant to command it. The promotion had been bittersweet due to the circumstances; as a consequence, those who perpetrated cop-on-cop violence now ranked alongside rapists and child molesters as far as he was concerned, and these bastards had just put down four 114th officers as well as assaulting a lieutenant.
Third in line, Hicks nodded to his point man and they took the stairs, the ten armed men moving quickly and quietly up towards the 4th floor.
‘Son of a bitch!’ Shepherd said inside 4D, staring at Hendricks incredulously. ‘He sent an entire ESU team after us? What bullshit did he tell them?’
‘You said Archer’s on his way here?’
‘If he even makes it. Ethan said he had people after him when he fled Astoria. We have to find him before that gang does. He’s protecting the girl with no back-up.’
‘You heard the radio. These boys are here to take us in; we’ll be taken downtown and held until God knows when.’
Shepherd looked at his colleague and closest friend as they both realised their minimal options.
‘That’s not going to happen,’ Shepherd said quietly.
Hendricks nodded. ‘No. It’s not.’
The two men continued to look at each other for a moment, both understanding the potential consequences of what they were about to do.
Then they moved.
As Shepherd headed to the door, ending the call to Ethan and holding his Mossberg, Hendricks traced the wall, looking for the fuse box to the apartment. Finding it in a wall cupboard to the left of the entrance, he aimed his shotgun above the box.
He pulled the trigger, the Mossberg booming, the air filled with plaster and pieces of debris as three thick cables were exposed.
Racking the pump he fired again; a moment later the power cut out in the building, shrouding the place in darkness.
FORTY FOUR
On the stairwell between the 2nd and 3rd floors, the ESU 1st team heard the two gunshots a moment before they were suddenly plunged into darkness.
Despite being caught off-guard, they reacted quickly, flicking on the flashlights attached to the end of their assault rifles before continuing to move up the stairs, the light breaking up the gloom, particles of dust visible in their beams. They all shared Hicks’ view of people who perpetrated violence on cops and would have no issue putting these two bastards down, badges or not.
Arriving on the fourth floor, Hicks motioned to two of his men to continue to the floors above, to check each one in case the two sergeants had seen them arrive and moved up.
As the two officers continued upwards, the eight remaining members of the ESU team moved down the corridor, four of them continuing past the apartment to cover the stairs at the other end.
Coming to a halt outside the apartment, Hicks took point, seeing the door was slightly ajar.
Raising his foot, he kicked it back hard and snapped his AR-15 up into the aim.
The two members of the team sent upstairs arrived on the 5th floor, following Hicks’ orders to carry out a sweep.
Easing their way out of the stairwell, they moved quietly into the long corridor, tracing as they walked, the building quiet.
Then they heard a low whistle immediately behind them.
Both men snapped round, straight into the stocks of two shotguns that smashed into their goggles, rocking their heads back and knocking one of them clean out. As he dropped, stunned, Hendricks ripped the AR15 out of the man’s hands, but the officer’s finger was already off the trigger. His companion staggered from the blow from Shepherd and managed to regain his balance, but before he had time to react, Shepherd restrained him in a needle and thread choke, quickly rendering the officer unconscious.
Once he was out Shepherd lowered him to the ground carefully. The two sergeants used the downed officers’ own zip-tie handcuffs to restrain them then kicked their weapons out of reach, Hendricks taking a couple of stun grenades from the front of one man’s uniform.
They suddenly froze as they heard some
one coming up the stairwell.
‘Shit!’ Shepherd whispered, he and Hendricks taking off for the stairwell at the other end of the corridor. Just as they made it to the stairs, a light suddenly appeared from behind them.
‘Freeze!’ a voice bellowed.
Shepherd and Hendricks dived into the stairwell a split-second before the ESU officers fired, the stitched burst from their weapons missing the pair by a fraction of an inch.
Racing after them, the four men almost fell over their two unconscious colleagues on the floor.
‘Suspects sighted!’ the lead man radioed to Hicks as he bent to check the two men. ‘East stairwell, 5th floor. Siler and Morris are down.’
‘Dead?’ Hicks asked.
‘Out cold,’ he said, feeling a pulse in both men before rising.
Continuing to the end of the corridor, the four officers snapped out into the stairwell, finding the place shrouded in thick black smoke, pumping out of a smoke grenade somewhere on the floor and filling the stairwell.
‘I can’t see shit!’ the lead officer reported to Hicks.
‘Stay there. We’re on our way.’
Releasing the pressel on his radio after making the transmission, Hicks led the three remaining ESU officers down the corridor, the men moving quickly towards the stairs, smoke flowing down the stairwell and into the corridor.
As his point man arrived by the stairwell door, Hicks suddenly clicked his fingers, his men snapping back. Bellick had gone quiet.
‘Bellick, what’s your status?’ Hicks spoke quietly into his mic.
No response.
‘Bellick?’
Nothing.
Cursing under his breath, he looked up into the mist of the dark stairwell.
Just as he heard the sound of something rolling down the stairs.
Reacting instantly, Hicks ducked back, covering his ears and turning away from the door to the stairwell, but the three men in front of him weren’t as fast.
The disorientated officers in the stairwell on the 5th floor had been relatively easy to put down and were now lying zip-tied and unconscious on the landing, the smoke from the grenade still swirling around them. Hendricks and Shepherd waited for the flash-bang to go off and then moved rapidly down the stairwell through the smoke, ready to secure the remaining ESU officers.
Three of them were stunned and disorientated, two on the stairwell floor and the other bent double, leaning against the wall. Hendricks moved forward and quickly cuffed the three guys, then he and Shepherd lifted their Mossbergs and moved forward to find the fourth man.
As soon as both appeared in the corridor, there were two rapid gunshots. Both men shouted in pain as they took a hit, Shepherd knocked back against the wall and cursing as he clutched his arm, Hendricks taking one to the thigh, swearing as he fell to the floor.
‘Put your weapons down!’ a voice suddenly ordered through the smoke, a beam of light slicing through it. ‘Do it or I’ll fire again, I swear to God!’
Holding his arm, Shepherd saw Jake had dropped his shotgun and was on the floor clutching his leg; with no choice, he placed his Mossberg carefully on the floor in front of him.
The last member of the ESU stepped forward and easing round the two injured men, shut the door to the stairwell, stopping the flow of smoke.
Letting go of his wounded arm for a moment to slowly shield his eyes, Shepherd could just make out the stripes on the man’s shoulder, meaning this guy was their sergeant.
Peering closer at the man’s face as he turned, he recognised him instantly. ‘Hicks?’
The ESU Sergeant paused then looked closer at the two men he’d just shot.
‘Shep?’ Pause. ‘What the hell are you two doing here? We had a report a pair of NYPD sergeants had gone rogue. They didn’t say it was you.’
‘Listen to me,’ Shepherd said urgently. ‘I didn’t assault Lieutenant Royston. He made up some bullshit charge and sent his men to Brighton Beach to bring us both in.’
‘Did you put them down?’ Hicks asked, keeping his AR-15 up.
‘We had to,’ Hendricks answered. ‘No way were they going to let us go. One of our detectives was killed tonight. Archer’s going to join her if we don’t get to him right now.’
In the light from the torches on the fallen mens’ weapons, Shepherd saw Hick’s eyes narrow.
Hicks lowered his gun a fraction. ‘Sam Archer? The guy from the Harlem building?’
‘That’s right. And the detective who died was Alice Vargas. She was in there with him that night.’
‘C’mon man, make a decision.’ Hendricks said through gritted teeth, holding his thigh. ‘We need to move. And I could use a Band-Aid.’
Hicks didn’t reply, still keeping his rifle on the pair.
Then he slowly lowered it and the tension immediately eased.
‘Where’s Archer?’ he asked, stepping forward and dropping down to examine the wound on Hendricks’ leg.
‘He should have been here by now.’ Wincing, Shepherd released his arm and pulled his cell. ‘I’ll have one of our analysts trace his car. No point chasing around the city until we know where he is.’
‘Shit, I don’t think you guys are going anywhere except the ER,’ Hicks said, looking at the wound on Hendricks’ thigh.
Hendricks shook his head. ‘No way. Help me up.’
Shepherd and Hicks moved either side of him, hoisting him back to his feet; Hendricks gritted his teeth.
‘Christ, Hicks,’ he grunted. ‘You owe us a beer.’
‘I only clipped you.’
‘Much appreciated.’
Once Shepherd was supporting Hendricks’ weight, Hicks pulled a knife and cut the binds on the three unconscious ESU officer’s wrists, Shepherd propping Hendricks up as he pulled his phone and called the Bureau.
‘Ethan, it’s me. Where does Archer’s GPS put him?’ Shepherd asked, putting his cell on speaker.
‘Heading south from Central Park North, sir. I think he’s taking her to the safe-house on 66th Street.’
‘Has he taken any more fire?’
‘There’ve been no more reports but I don’t know.’
Kneeling by his three unconscious men and hearing the transmission, Hicks looked up. ‘You’d better get moving and back him up.’
He rose, ready to go upstairs and check on the others.
‘If I was you, I wouldn’t want to be here when these guys wake up.’
After weaving his way through Manhattan, eventually making it to the west side, Archer had managed to shake his and April’s pursuers. He’d just parked in the basement of the building of another Department safe house on 66th Street, a stone’s throw from Columbus Circle, somewhere their attackers wouldn’t know to find them.
He and April walked quickly across the car park, heading towards the door to the stairs, Archer with his pistol in his hand. Ducking into the stairwell, he checked back quickly to make sure no one had seen them enter, then moved into the stairwell, keeping April right behind him. He needed to get them into the safe-house before anything else happened. The place was equipped with everything he’d need to protect them until back-up arrived.
Arriving on the third floor, he moved down the corridor then drew the keys and unlocked the door, feeling his phone ring in his pocket.
Looking down, he reached into his jeans for it as he opened up.
A moment later, something hit him over the back of the head hard, knocking him to the floor. As April screamed Archer tried to get back to his feet but Tully was on him, clamping a chloroform rag to his mouth with his good hand, burying his knee in his back as Archer resisted.
‘No! Get off him!’ April shouted, running forward to try and pull Tully away.
However an arm suddenly snaked around her waist and pulled her back, another rag clamped over her mouth by Henderson as he kicked the door shut behind him. Archer was fighting to rise, but this time Tully had the advantage, clamping the chemicals to his nose.
Doing everything he could
to fight him off, Archer involuntarily inhaled.
Then everything went black.
FORTY FIVE
The purring vibration of his cell phone in his pocket roused him from unconsciousness.
Archer opened his eyes and saw he was lying on his side. He could hear liquid being poured into something the other side of the door, a strong chemical smell hitting his nose. He fought the fog in his brain, trying to focus and get his bearings, and then he saw April lying a few feet from him, similarly tied up with a strip of tape across her mouth.
She’d already come round and was staring at him, looking terrified. He fought with the binds on his wrists but they were zipped tight behind him. A beat later the door directly in front of him opened and he found himself looking up at Henderson, his face partially busted up from their fight earlier.
The large man stood in the doorway for a moment, hearing the noise of the vibrating phone, then walked over and knelt down beside Archer, pulling the phone out of his pocket and looking at the display. Rising, he dropped the Nokia and stamped on it several times with his boot, breaking it to pieces, some of the flying fragments hitting Archer in the face.
From his horizontal position, he could see into the bathroom across the safe-house. Plastic sheeting was covering the bathroom floor; Tully was carefully pouring something into the bath-tub.
‘How long?’ Henderson asked his partner.
‘Almost done.’
Henderson grinned.
‘We’re going to cut you up first,’ he said, looking down at Archer. ‘It’s not normally our style but after what you and your friend did to Lister we figured we owe you some extra attention.’
Stepping over Archer, Henderson hauled April out into the main room then propped her up against the wall.