Linda Fairstein - Killer Heat

I didn't answer.

"I asked you a question, girl, and I expect you to answer me. And the answer would be 'Yes, sir.' "

"Yes, sir," I said, with hesitation.

" 'Cause if you walk off without me, I'd just hate to think of something fragging you into so many pieces I wouldn't be able to have any fun later."

I'd seen more than enough news reports of soldiers "fragged out" by the deployment of grenades. Rasheed had used his time well. He'd learned the deadly art of setting booby traps from his father, and in the hours since he'd tortured and deserted Pam Lear in the dungeon, he wanted me to believe, he had concealed fragmentation grenades around the island.

"And what do you say to that, Detective? You want me to have fun with you, don't you?"

There was no way to suppress the tremors that were rippling through me.

"Where is it, Alex? Where's the answer I want to hear? What do I want?"

I knew what I wanted. I wanted Mike to come running down from Nolan Park. I wanted Pam Lear to release him from her side so he could help me. I wanted Mercer to get himself loose and get back on his feet.

"Yes," I said, quietly. "Yes, sir."

Gripping my elbow with his right hand, he opened the door with his left and led me out onto the steps and down to the cobblestone walk, where the pebbles blown around by the storm dug into the soles of my feet.

I prayed that he would turn left and take the path back to Governor's House. But instead, he pointed ahead to the large hill, to the great star-shaped landmark in the center of the island. It was Fort Jay, the place we'd been on our way to see when the feds kicked us off the island on Saturday.

"We're going to higher ground, girl. Don't want anybody to mess with you till we've gotten to know each other."

I walked as slowly as I could, listening for sounds that boats or choppers were back in the water and air. I pretended the rocky roadway made walking painful.

"You can do better than that, Detective," he said, pulling on my arm.

The rain was falling gently, and there an eerie silence now that the thunder had rolled off to the east.

Troy Rasheed toyed with his silver chain while I bent down to remove a small rock that had wedged between my toes. I was playing for time. He hadn't recognized me from the night at Ruffles. There was no reason for him to have done so, since he would have seen only my back as I left behind Mike and Kiernan Dylan. He didn't know I was aware of his criminal history-and of the fate that awaited me if I didn't escape.

"Get up, sugar. Time to go."

I looked back over my shoulder and he jerked my arm to make me keep up with him. He lifted the chain and put the army dog tag to his mouth, biting nervously on the edge of it.

There was something else hanging from the chain. Something gold. It was the West Point ring, a gold band with a citrine stone and the USMA emblem, that Elise Huff had worn every day since her grandmother's death. It was the trophy that Troy Rasheed had taken from her body, a reminder of his resolve to leave none of his prey alive.

Ifelt like I was on a forced march back in time, to quarters like I'd just seen in the more primitive structures that surrounded this imposing centerpiece of Governors Island.

Behind me was the dark, silent city, just beginning to come to life, with scattered lights and the sound of aircraft somewhere overhead. Looming in front of me, on top of the hill, was the enormous mass of an eighteenth-century fort, far more complex than Castle Williams. I had no idea what remained behind its walls, but I feared that Troy Rasheed knew every crevice in it.

We had crossed the cobblestone path and roadway. Now we were on grass, and my captor broke into a run. His left hand held Mercer's gun in place in his waistband, while his right kept a tight grip on my upper arm

Too fast," I said, pretending to stumble, but he wasn't having any of it.

"Run, damn it," he told me, squeezing me with his big hand.

He was moving as though we were on an obstacle course, zigzagging so that I thought-or was meant to think-that he had rigged the muddy field with explosive devices.

I looked at the giant stone counterscarp, the side of the fort that seemed impenetrable. We'd flown over it as we landed this morning, and I'd seen its great five-sided star shape from the air. Now we were approaching an actual drawbridge that led into a covered entry, a forbidding separation from the rest of the island.

Rasheed apparently heard a noise overhead, too. He looked up, never letting go of me, to see whether whatever machine was flying in the pea-soup sky above was coming in to land, but the droning sound faded away.

"Almost there, girl. I'm gonna show you some sights."

The switchblade was still in the rear pocket of my jeans, which were so tight that it hardly jiggled when I moved. Maybe this was the moment to try to slice at Rasheed's arm, before we crossed over into the fortress.

I was feeling dizzy. The view directly ahead of me shifted. We were sprinting toward the drawbridge but suddenly the ground to the left and right of the gate opened wide below me. A gaping hole appeared, twenty feet wide, stretching the length of the entire visible side of the fort.

"I can't," I screamed at Rasheed, hoping Mike would hear me, hoping my voice would carry from the island's peak.

I stopped in place, terrified by the sight. It was a moat, a dry moat, and if I made a misstep, I would fall off the bridge to its bottom.

Rasheed confronted me, holding my shoulders with both hands, shaking me fiercely. "You ain't gonna miss a minute of this, sugar. You come to your senses, okay?"

I was out of breath and frightened. I couldn't get any words out.

Then he removed Mercer's gun from his waistband and held it to the side of my head. "Welcome to my house, Detective Cooper."

He moved aside but picked up my arm again and kept the gun in his other hand.

We emerged from beneath the cover of the bridge, into a small village. Around a central courtyard were rows of brick buildings two stories in height. They were more elegant than the crude barracks that lined the waterfront, but just as deserted.

There was no way to see beyond the high walls of the fortress. I wouldn't know whether the river was calming enough for boats to be launched again, and I doubted that the tide would recede fast enough to let the ferry make the trip across.

But I could hear noises from above, and I was silently begging Commissioner Scully to get our chopper airborne.

"Now this here is where the officers lived," Rasheed said, dragging me toward a building on the east side of the grounds. "So I figured it was a fine place for me."

Not exactly what the Sex Offender Monitoring Unit had in mind when they asked him to register his address.

"No, no, no, girl. Not up there," he said, as I scanned the second story of the barracks, wondering if the windows of those rooms looked out above the massive stone walls. "I prefer the dark. I spent a lot of time in solitary, Detective. You know what that's like, don't you?"

I stopped short.

"It's not polite to ignore me. You've sent perps to solitary, haven't you? How do you think you're gonna like the black hole?"

Rasheed was behind me now, holding the back of my neck as he prodded me along. At the last room in the long row, he let go of me and turned the knob. The door opened.

I stood on the threshold, letting my eyes adjust to the dark. Waves of nausea rolled in my stomach.

There were no windows in the room, no ventilation source that I could see. There was a pile of rope next to my feet, and I was sure that he would have something handy to gag me with, if he didn't use a piece of my own clothing.

"Take me somewhere else," I said to Rasheed, trying to reposition myself, trying to turn around to face him. "I'll do whatever you want. I promise. Whatever you want."