Green Light (Sam Archer 7) (13 page)

He was
pissed off; his two partners had just returned after leaving
earlier to secure the last escort, April Evans, but apparently the
bitch had slipped through their fingers and got away. Reading a
fresh message that had come in ten minutes ago, the large man’s
eyes narrowed. Deleting the text and pocketing the phone, he turned
and looked over at the other two who were standing outside the
bathroom, watching him, the hissing from the tub filling the
silence.

They’d
also pulled off their masks. The figure on the left was a man,
about five-ten and lean with a shaved head and a beaked nose. The
woman standing next to him was around five foot six, dark-haired
with a hard but not unattractive face. She wasn’t wearing any
make-up and looked pretty ordinary apart from a blackened vein on
her neck from a drug overdose a few years ago. He had close ties
with both but right now was furious with each of them.

‘
We good?’ she asked.

‘
No. We’re not. Because you two got sloppy, we’ve got less than
five hours to find one woman in the entire goddamned
city.’

Neither
replied. The larger man looked at them angrily.

‘
Pack your gear. We need to get moving and find this bitch.
She’s a risk to this entire operation.’

‘
What about him?’ the slender man asked, jabbing a thumb back
into the bathroom behind him.

‘
Let him soak. We’ll come back and flush him away
later.’

As the
pair pulled their masks back on and moved back into the bathroom to
gather the empty cans, the leader also replaced his mask then
shifted his thoughts to their last target, April Evans. Despite the
fact they’d never met he knew a lot about the woman, where she
lived, her patch, her habits, her clients. He knew she’d be scared
shitless and low on cash.

He knew
she’d be alone and that she’d be making mistakes.

They had
five hours to find one woman in New York City.

But
considering who they were and the connections they had, that was
more than enough time.

THIRTEEN

Driving
fast towards the city from Cypress Hills, Hendricks called a Bureau
number on the hands-free system as the car carrying him and Archer
moved onto the Brooklyn Bridge.

‘
Sergeant Hendricks?’
Ethan’s voice
responded, slightly tinny over the Ford’s intercom.

‘
Ethan, I need you to run a check for me.’

‘
What do you need, sir?’

‘
Priors, charges and addresses on two male suspects’ surnames.
Goya and Santiago. I don’t know their first names but both are
involved in the city sex-trade; that should narrow it
down.’

‘
Yes, sir. One moment.’

As he
and Hendricks waited for Ethan to come back, Archer watched the
Financial District lights rolling into view and saw the newly
finished World Trade Center building standing tall and proud, a
vibrant blue in the evening sky, a defiant big brother returning
after a spell away.

‘
Sir,
Rach told me she just spoke
with Sergeant Shepherd; apparently he asked for a check on two
names, Carlos and Alex, and she pulled a result. The men you want
are Carlos Goya and Alex Santiago.’

‘
Who are they?’ Archer asked.

‘
Both born in Pittsburgh, early thirties, convictions for some
minor infractions. Santiago was just released yesterday after
serving twenty one days for a public order offence. According to
city files, they share an apartment on the Lower East
Side.’

‘
Got an address?’

‘
Fourth floor walk-up on Rivington Street. Apartment
4E.’

The
moment Ethan passed over the specifics, Hendricks ended the call
and put his foot down. As they approached the end of the Bridge he
glanced across at Archer, that cold ruthless determination he was
renowned for on his face.

‘
These two are the pair who really shot you, Leann Casey and
Detective Vargas.’

‘
So let’s go pay them a visit,’ Archer replied. ‘I’ve got some
catching up to do.’

At Karen
Casey’s, Shepherd had received the same information from Rach a few
moments earlier; after making another brief call, he looked at
Palmer and rose from his seat.

‘
We’re on. I’ve been given the address for Carlos and Alex.
It’s not too far away.’

Beside
them Karen Casey remained on her sofa, looking bewildered, events
moving rapidly around her. Eager to get going, the pair
nevertheless took a moment, not wanting to abandon the woman too
abruptly.

‘
I’m sorry about Leann,’ Palmer said. ‘We both are.’

She
nodded. ‘Appreciated.’

‘
And we’re going to find who really did this,’ Shepherd said.
‘That’s a promise.’

Karen
looked up at him but stayed silent; then she nodded slowly, trying
to smile. With that, Shepherd turned and walked to the door
followed by Palmer who closed it quietly behind them.

Suddenly alone again, Karen stared at the door for a few
moments longer then glanced around and saw Leann looking at her
from photos around the room. It had been four weeks since her death
but only now were the police starting to get their act together and
track down who might have really killed her.
We’re going to find who really did this,
the Sergeant had promised.

As she
sat there motionlessly on the sofa, she couldn’t help wondering
just how the hell he was going to do that.

Eight
miles north at Rikers, Marquez and Josh pushed open an exit to the
facility entrance and walked out into the car park, having been
told that Hendricks had beaten them to it and left with Archer over
half an hour ago. The only access Bridge to the island was from
Queens so they’d been forced to loop their way around, using up
valuable time.

‘
Jesus Christ,’ Josh said, moving across the tarmac. ‘Archer’s
like the goddamn Sasquatch. Where the hell is he now?’

‘
And how did Hendricks know he was here?’ Marquez
asked.

As Josh
started to reply Marquez’ phone rang, cutting him off. Pulling it
out, she saw it was Shepherd.

‘
Sir, good news,’ she said. ‘Archer’s been released and he’s
safe. Sergeant Hendricks pulled him half an hour ago.’

As she
listened to his response her eyes widened, Josh watching and
noticing an immediate shift in her body language. Making eye
contact while continuing to listen to Shepherd, she started to move
towards their car with more haste, Josh following her
lead.

‘
OK, we’re on our way,’ she said, ending the call and opening
her door.

‘
What’s up?’ Josh asked, climbing into the driver’s seat beside
her.

‘
Karen Casey just coughed up two names, the pimps who ran Leann
and her friends,’ she told him, pulling on her seatbelt. ‘Shepherd
thinks they might be the ones who really killed Leann.’

‘
Addresses?’ Josh asked, firing the engine.

‘
They share a place on the Lower East Side.’

‘
Just as well the Department’s paying for gas,’ Josh said,
taking off the handbrake, activating the siren and fender lights
then flooring it out of the space, heading back into the city as
fast as he could.

Not long
after, Hendricks and Archer turned onto Rivington Street, pulling
up behind an unmarked white van with its rear doors open. A man in
white overalls and a baseball cap was finishing stowing some gear
in the back; they studied him for a moment, but he didn’t match the
description of either Goya or Santiago, and a beat later he shut
the rear doors and walked round to the front of the van.

Killing
the engine, Hendricks checked the chamber on his pistol then
holstered the weapon, Archer very much aware that he was
unarmed.

‘
We wear vests,’ Hendricks said, peering up at the apartment
building. ‘These two won’t be happy to see us and we know they’ve
got no problem shooting cops.’

Opening
their doors simultaneously, the two men stepped out and headed for
the back of the car; Hendricks opened the trunk and passed Archer
an NYPD bulletproof vest, taking one himself and strapping it over
his sweater. As Archer secured the garment, catching his breath as
it pushed against the cut on his chest, Hendricks looked at him for
a moment, then reached inside the car and pulled out a black
Mossberg pump-action shotgun which he passed to the blond man.
Considering he was suspended, that was technically illegal but
Archer suddenly felt a hell of a lot more confident with something
to protect himself.

‘
That’s for persuasion only,’ Hendricks said. ‘If shit goes
down, you let me handle it and use your hands instead. Don’t want
you giving Royston any more ammunition.’

Archer
shook his head. ‘Me neither.’

As
Hendricks slammed the trunk lid shut, Archer loaded shells into his
shotgun then racked the pump.

‘
Let’s go get reacquainted.’

‘
Two cops just arrived!’
the slender
man with the shaved head hissed into his cell phone from inside the
van, watching through one of the blacked-out windows.

‘
What? A squad car?’

‘
Unmarked. I think they’re coming up.’

‘
We’re still finishing up. Are they inside yet?’

‘
They’re at the front door,’
he
replied, seeing the two armed men pause outside the
entrance.
‘And they’re
strapped.’

‘
With what?’

‘
One has a shotgun, the other a pistol,’
he hissed quietly.
‘You’ve got less
than a minute. Get the hell out of there!’

FOURTEEN

Four
floors down, Hendricks pushed a random button on the grid, telling
the resident he was UPS delivering a package; a moment later the
door was buzzed open. Drawing his pistol he eased his way inside
the building, Archer following and shutting the door behind
them.

The two
men strode over to the stairs, moving rapidly up to the fourth
floor, their footfalls light on the stairwell, the building around
them quiet save for some music playing from an apartment on the
second floor and the muffled sound of a couple arguing on the
third.

As they
moved onto 4, the two men stalked their way down the corridor
towards Goya and Santiago’s place, the hallway empty.

Arriving
outside the apartment, Hendricks stood with his back against the
wall.

He tried
the handle silently but the door was locked.

He
glanced at Archer, who quickly moved to the other side of the door
and buried the stock of the shotgun in his shoulder.

Showtime.

Dipping
his shoulder, Hendricks blasted the door open and pulled his pistol
back up into the aim a split second later, moving right and
followed a step behind by Archer who took the left.

‘
NYPD!’
they both shouted, moving into
the apartment.

Looking
through their sights, the two men split, seeking to use that
initial element of surprise to catch anyone inside
off-guard.

The
sitting room was empty, the curtains across the room flickering in
the slight breeze from an open window. As Hendricks moved right to
clear the two bedrooms, Archer moved to the left into the sitting
room then stopped and sniffed the air.

There
was an unpleasant, acrid chemical smell in the room. He frowned; it
was starting to make his eyes water.

What the hell is that?

He saw a
closed door to his left. Approaching it cautiously and keeping his
Mossberg in the aim, Archer paused for a moment, listening for the
sound of any activity, picturing Goya, Santiago or both the other
side with a weapon aimed at the wood.

Checking
over his shoulder, hearing Hendricks moving about in one of the
bedrooms, he stood to one side of the door and reached for the
handle with his left hand.

Inside
the apartment next door, the female member of the trio had her
pistol to the head of the terrified owner as the big guy had his
weapon drawn and ready, their black respiratory masks back in place
to protect their identities.

The big man was listening intently, the door slightly ajar,
but since the noise of the door being breached and the shouts
of
police
, there
was no sound of movement.

However,
Santiago hadn’t finished his bath yet.

In
Santiago’s place, Archer twisted the handle then kicked the door
back, snapping his shotgun back into his shoulder as it swung
open.

A split
second later he saw movement, not in front but behind him,
reflected in the bathroom mirror straight ahead.

Two
figures, one big, one smaller, in white overalls and black gas
masks.

Both
were carrying silenced pistols.

And they
weren’t here to talk.

Spinning
round just as Hendricks appeared from the main bedroom, Archer saw
the big figure was already lifting his weapon, pointing it straight
at him, the smaller figure aiming at Hendricks.