As they approached, Ryan Lau set up the order, and they formed the lineup for entry. Coppolillo led. Cameron was second to last, directly before Lau. The change in the lineup meant something. Lau was a senior officer, so he normally went first, but perhaps Ahrens wanted an extra eye on Cameron or maybe it was a shuffle because of the change in team. Whatever it was, she pushed it from her mind. Stray thoughts were a distraction and distractions got people killed.
Suddenly, there was shouting from up ahead. The accented voice was male.
“They know we’re coming,” Lau said, his voice mixed with fear and relief.
Cameron shifted her gun higher. Hostile, agile, mobile.
Gunfire sounded and glass shattered somewhere over their heads. The line dropped down for protection, waiting it out. There would be no return fire until absolutely necessary. No one wanted to repeat what happened last time.
The accented voice called out again, “Move away.”
Helicopters flapped in the distance.
More shots rang out, and she sensed the line grow tense. They were close.
“On three,” Lau called.
The numbers flew by, and all at once, they were moving. Running, jumping onto the boat. Move left, move right.
Cameron followed a clear path to her position on the starboard side. There, she crouched until Lau was beside her.
His shoulder pressed to hers, he said. “I go on three.”
She waited for his move. As soon as he went for the stairs, she shifted around the corner and covered him. She followed, keeping them covered from above, then sweeping left between the rails as Lau swept right.
She pounded down the remaining stairs, her boots clamoring against the steel. She backed straight to the wall, scanned left and right, nodding to Lau. The smell below was sour and pungent, like rotting food. The smells of her job were something she’d never gotten accustomed to.
In the corner, she saw motion, then a glint of light off a gun. “Freeze,” she shouted, her finger ready on the trigger.
“Drop the weapon,” Lau commanded.
The suspect’s muzzle moved toward them. His finger reached the trigger. Cameron fired, the shot echoed by one from Lau’s gun. The shooter fell. Cameron covered Lau while he checked the body. He gave her a quick nod and tucked the gun in the back of his pants. One down.
Her knees were unsteady as they moved through the narrow passageway, scanning left, right, up, down. She waited, while Lau buttonhooked into a small storage space.
“Clear,” Lau shouted.
She moved slowly in a half circle, back safe to the wall, Lau on the other side of the space. “Clear,” she said, holding her thumb up in front of her to designate her direction.
He motioned right.
She moved ahead, gun ahead, finger straight out, ready to take the trigger in the blink of an eye.
She paused at a closed door and waited until Lau was beside her, both of them on one side. They exchanged nods. Good to go.
He lifted a leg and kicked the door.
It tumbled open. Cameron entered, buttonhooking around the doorway and surveying the room. “Clear,” she shouted.
Lau entered, crossing the doorway to the far side. Together, they moved, backs to the opposite walls and scanned the room.
They spotted motion in a far corner.
“Come out where we can see you, hands up,” Lau commanded.
Four hands showed in the air as two women crawled out from under a table.
“Anyone else here?”
The women studied each other. Cameron ignored them as she and Lau searched the rest of the room. It was clear.
“Stay here,” she said and closed the door behind them.
The next cabin was empty. The third and final cabin’s door was closed. Cameron sensed it wasn’t empty. She thought about the hostages and wondered how many there were. She assumed more than two. Most likely, they were in there with some of the suspects.
Kessler and Coppolillo arrived. “Upper level is clear,” Kessler said. “One perp down. Paules and Minard are collecting the hostages.”
“This is the last room.”
“Expect a fight,” Lau said.
She pulled a flash bang off one side and lifted it to Lau, who nodded. She staged the pin so it would be easy to pull when the door opened, and gripped the metal canister in her fist. Once it went off, the sound would effectively stun everyone in the room for five seconds, giving them a head start on making sure the hostages were safe.
Lau poised to open the door. Cameron got ready to pull the pin and throw it in. He wiggled the knob. “Unlocked.” He twisted the knob and she cocked her arm. “On three.”
One. Two. Three.
Lau kicked the door open. Cameron threw the canister inside.
They ducked behind the doors to wait for the burst of noise. The team covered their ears, but even then, the sound was deafening. It took several seconds before Lau and Cameron entered the room, guns drawn. Immediately, she saw eight or ten women on the floor. A suspect in the corner. “Freeze,” she screamed, gun aimed. She covered him while Lau grabbed another suspect inside the door. He threw him out into the hall, where Coppolillo and Kessler took over.
Her suspect raised his hands and dropped his weapon. Lau crossed the room and took his gun before using a plastic cuff to secure his hands. She was about to drop her gun when there was a muffled cry from the far side of the room.
She spun around and spotted a third suspect partially hidden by what had looked like a wall, but was actually a divider in the room. Her gun high, Cameron stopped when she saw him.
He moved slowly into the main room with a young woman—maybe fifteen or sixteen—held in front of him. At her neck was a large, black-handled knife. The girl had a square jaw and dark eyes that darted back and forth between Cameron and Lau.
“Damn,” Lau whispered.
No one moved. Cameron was both angry and terrified that they’d missed him. It was bad news to have a suspect behind you, especially an armed one. She held her aim on him, but there was no guarantee she could take him out without hurting the girl.
The man was medium height and paunchy. The girl under his arm trembled with fear. “Guns down,” he screamed, pressing the knife into her neck as she clawed at his sleeve.
Cameron stopped moving. Now, they waited until someone made a mistake.
“I kill. I kill her.”
“Put the knife down,” Lau said.
“I kill!” he screamed back.
One woman tried to get onto her feet. Cameron waved her gun at her. “Stay down,” she directed. The room filled with crying as the women cowered on the floor.
The man jerked the girl closer.
Cameron watched as the knife bit into her neck. A line of blood appeared.
The woman let out a cry. The other hostages screamed.
“It’s going to be okay,” Cameron said, adding a “Shh” for the others.
When the man glanced away, Cameron took another step closer.
The woman’s eyes widened.
The man jerked her back again, pressing them both into the corner of the room. “Back. I kill.” He shifted the point toward her neck.
Lau moved in closer to Cameron.
“I can take him,” Cameron whispered, her chin tucked down to keep her voice low.
From the corner of her eye, she watched as Lau nervously licked his lips. “How?”
“Just get me some profile.”
“And the woman?”
Cameron swallowed. As long as the woman didn’t make any drastic moves, she’d be okay. She could hear other officers at the door. “I can do it,” she whispered to Lau.
Lau shook his head to hold them off. The more of them there were, the worse their suspect was going to freak. “Don’t, unless you’re sure.”
She squatted slowly and set her gun on the ground as though she were giving up.
The suspect watched her, then Lau. Lau held his gun and moved slowly
back toward the first cuffed suspect.
Cameron put her hand close to her weapon and motioned that she was ready.
Lau pulled the cuffed suspect off the floor and pressed his gun into the suspect’s back. “Tell your man to drop the knife,” he commanded.
The cuffed man said something.
The suspect held the woman closer as he shouted something to the cuffed man. The exchange continued for ten or fifteen seconds.
Cameron focused on his head. When he had turned sideways, her breathing stilled. She just needed a little more space.
The woman leaned forward, sobbing. The suspect’s head rolled back as he screamed something toward the ceiling.
Cameron lifted the gun, aimed, and fired. She watched the back of the man’s head explode in a burst of red and pink tissue. He fell backward, dragging the woman with him. Hysteria filled the room, while Cameron felt the adrenaline drying up. She holstered her weapon. Someone patted her on the back. She watched as the woman was pulled away from the dead man’s arms. A little cut on her neck, but she would survive.
She headed back to the boat’s deck.
“Hell of a shot,” Lau said to her, as she passed him, trying to get to fresh air.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Hell of a week,” Paules said.
“Hell of a week, for sure,” Lau agreed.
Chapter 41
Diego hadn’t slept since he’d left Cameron’s house. There was no word anywhere on the boat of dead girls. He had almost no communication from the station and no word from Claudia in a week. It was all he could do to keep himself sane by pacing the corner as he waited for his man to meet him. This was his last resort. If this bastard didn’t give him what he needed, he’d kill the son-of-a-bitch.
A man stepped out under the streetlight. “You’re late,” he snapped.
“You?” Diego was surprised at the man who emerged from the dark. They had dealt only in anonymous text messages until Diego broke him down and convinced him to meet.
He didn’t look surprised to see Diego. But, as he walked closer, Diego could tell he’d lost him. He was unshaven and unwashed. He wasn’t the contact anymore. They’d ousted him. “They set you up too.”
The man fidgeted with the manila envelope in his hands. “I can’t help you. They’ll kill me.” He was trembling. “Not just me, but the kids, too.”
“What about Claudia?”
The man shook his head.
Diego felt his stomach roll. He clenched the man’s arm and shook. “What about her?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything about her.”
Goddamn it. “What’s in the envelope?” he barked.
“Some things you might be able to use. Things they don’t know about. Maybe they’ll help.”
“What?” he barked, anger boiling over. They’d gotten him, too. Their claws were everywhere.
“It’s the list of all the accounts.”
“What?” Diego asked, confused. “What accounts?”
“The ones for the deposits. Everyone who gets a piece has it deposited into a numbered account. That’s always been my job—”
Diego took the package and tore it open. It was one piece of paper, the return receipt on a fax that had been sent. It was just a row of numbers, incomplete. “How do I tell whose accounts they are?”
“The bank knows. They’re all there—me, Daley, Masse, Donnelly, you—everyone has one.”
“Me?”
“They opened one for you.”
“I never got paid by them. The only money I have is what came off Benjamin, and it’s in safe keeping.”
He shrugged.
Damn them. “Is there money in it?”
“Probably some, but not a lot.”
“Enough to raise suspicion.” He shook out a plain black tape from the envelope. “What’s this?”
“The tape from Benjamin’s car.”
“What tape?”
“From the shooting.”
A tape of him shooting Ray Benjamin. Jesus Christ. He tucked it into his jacket. “Is this the only copy?”
He nodded.
“Where was the camera?”
“By the rearview mirror. Rotates ninety degrees. I don’t know what it caught, but the audio’s usually pretty good on those.”
He returned his attention to the paper. “You must have more than this. All this does is show how they set us up. What about Ray and Vincente? What about whoever is still in it? Where are their names and the amounts they were paid?”
“Whatever else I have is at the house,” he said. “I’ve sent the kids away, and I’m never going back there.”
“You have to go and get it.”
“I can’t.”
Diego grabbed him by the collar. “You have to, damn it. You have to get the rest.”
“They’ll kill me.”
“You think you’re safe with me?”
He cried, blubbering. Diego felt his rage growing. He collapsed onto his knees. Diego raised a foot before stopping himself. “Damn you. Get up. You can’t do this now. You’re in too deep.”
The man leaned over and continued sobbing.
Diego pulled out the gun, Benjamin’s .45. He shoved it beside the man’s ear and barked at him to stand. He did, slowly. “You’re going to go to your house and you’re going to get more evidence. I’m going to meet you on the north end of your block in two hours. No cops, just papers.”
The man, blubbering, agreed. Diego helped him up, holding his gun at his side. In the meantime, he hoped Cameron had hacked into the rest of the files on the jump drive he’d lifted from Benjamin’s house. He needed something that could blast them out of the water.
An hour later, Diego had been trying to form a plan when the black and white pulled up in front of the diner where he sat, its lights flashing. As he rose from the chair, another arrived. Then, a third. A fourth behind him. He was surrounded. More than surrounded. They’d brought out the whole department for him. Diego had walked right into the trap.
He raised his hands like a good boy. He didn’t run. He didn’t try to negotiate. That would come later. He had to convince them that he had something that made him worth more alive. At least for now. He had an idea of what he could use. They would be planning to get the evidence and squash him like a bug. He had other plans.
He walked out to the street and let them cuff him, shove his head down, and push him into the back of the squad car. There was always a buzz of giddiness around the arrest of a cop. He experienced a stab of panic when someone slapped the top of the car and it pulled onto the street. It was going to be okay. He wasn’t going to fail. That wasn’t an option.
Chapter 42
Rosa sat down beside Cameron and pushed a plate of hot enchiladas toward her. “You have to eat.”
“I’m not hungry,” Cameron told her sister. Food was not appealing after seeing those dead women. She was still reeling from how close she and Lau had come to missing that suspect. The risk of taking that shot, not knowing if she would miss and hit the girl. Mei was working on the last files from the jump drive, so she had nothing to tell Diego. But where was he? What was he working on, and was he all right?
“I made exactly what you asked for.”
“I’ll eat it a little later, I promise.”
Rosa drilled her hands into her hips. “Are you at least going to tell me what happened on the boat?”
“I really don’t want to talk about it.”
Rosa got up from the table again. She picked Nate up from his playpen and carried him around the kitchen while she worked. Rosa’s whole presence softened when she was with Nate. She didn’t worry about her appearance or men. And talking to Nate was the only time Rosa spoke Spanish without being forced.
Now, she complained to Nate about his crazy mother and her job. She was right. Cameron’s job was consuming her. She couldn’t continue like this.
A month ago, she couldn’t have imagined not going back to work. Now,
she wished she could find a job where she’d have some peace of mind. But that would have to wait. She couldn’t leave Special Ops until she knew what Benjamin and Lavick had done. She wasn’t quitting until someone paid for those women and for the absence of her son’s father. Then, maybe she would have peace. The fury drained everything from her.
She watched Rosa and Nate. Normally, the sight of the two of them together was one of Cameron’s favorite things. Today, she couldn’t muster any enthusiasm. She kept imagining all those women, all those mothers and daughters, dead. And worse than the image of them dead, was the possibility that Diego was being set up to take the fall. How thick was the trap? What if they couldn’t free him?
Rosa brought out a container of ice cream and set it on the table. “Maybe this would help?”
Cameron knew that if she didn’t eat something, Rosa would not stop pestering her. Plus, maybe she’d feel a little better after something sweet and some rest. “Ice cream and a nap.”
Rosa clicked her tongue. “Only you can sleep after sugar.”
“Ice cream always makes me tired.”
“Okay.” She bounced Nate on her hip. “You going to take a nap with your Mama?”
Nate made little babbling noises.
Rosa opened a cupboard and pulled out a bag of Oreos. Then, bringing down a bowl and spoon, she handed them to Cameron.
Cameron served herself a healthy scoop of mint chip ice cream and topped it with two Oreos. While Rosa and Nate danced around the kitchen, she forced it down, the ice cream cold in her tight throat.
When she was done, she put her arms out to take Nate. “Okay, buddy, let’s nap.”
“Wake up hungry,” Rosa warned. “Because we’re having enchiladas for dinner.”
“We promise, Tía Rosa,” Cameron said, taking Nate into the bedroom.
For years on the force, Cameron had napped. The days and nights of heavy physical activity and high-pressure situations had also provided her with enough built-up exhaustion to sleep any time of day. Since Nate’s birth, she slept less, wanting to be with him as much as possible and using his nap time to do some necessary chores. Now, cuddling her son, she remembered the way she and Diego used to cuddle in his bed in the middle of the day, pull the shades down, and nap. Often, they’d wake at six or seven in the evening, just in time to shower and go for dinner at one of their favorite places.
The Rookie Club Thriller series Box Set Page 79