Stuart Woods - Iron Orchid

He backed into a doorway, took the Keltec from his pocket and held it at waist level, keeping it close to his body. The shooter was maybe eight feet away now, and that was close enough. Teddy fired two rounds at the man’s spine; almost simultaneously, he heard two other shots, probably from a 9mm. He left the doorway and walked quickly toward Fifth.

Teddy didn’t look back to see what was happening. He put his gun hand back into his pocket, turned left and headed for the corner of 50th Street. A sea of people were rushing across Fifth Avenue through the stalled traffic, and he joined them and headed down 50th toward Madison. As he reached the other side of Fifth he checked the reflection in Saks window and saw in the crowd the man in the down coat and lumberjack’s cap coming toward him. He seemed to be speaking into his left fist.

Teddy continued down 50th Street, then, as he approached the side entrance to Saks, he ducked down in the crowd and pushed his way toward the revolving door. He was inside the store in a second, and he didn’t wait to see if his pursuer was behind him. He turned left and walked as quickly as he could toward the long bank of elevators. The white dial over one turned red, and Teddy ran for it, pushing his way inside just as the doors began closing. Looking back the way he had come, he saw the man in fee lumberjack cap come in through the revolving doors. The elevator doors closed, and the crowded car started up. Teddy thought the man saw him at the last possible moment.

BACK IN THE ROCKEFELLER CENTER arcade Holly was running toward Ham, her 9mm in one hand and her I.D. wallet in the other.

She held the I.D. in the air, with the wallet open, and the gun out in front of her, the safety off and her finger alongside the trigger guard. She heard four shots, spaced very close together and saw the shooter go down. It was unlike Ham to fire more than twice, since he always hit what he was shooting at.

The shooter was on the ground, but he was moving, and there was still a gun in each hand. Ham was approaching him, his gun in both hands, and Holly ran up beside him. “I’ll get one hand,” she said.

“Right,” Ham said, but his eyes never left the shooter.

Holly saw a woman from the Barn approaching from Fifth Avenue, holding a gun. There seemed to be guns everywhere. Holly walked up to the shooter and put her foot on his right wrist, while Ham did the same to his left. She put her weight on his wrist, and his hand opened. She bent and picked up his gun, while Ham took the other one, but she did not let her attention stray from the shooter.

“Ham,” she said, “do you still have that Orchid Beach P.D. badge I gave you?”

“Yep,” Ham said.

“Get it out and wave it when the cops come. We don’t want them shooting at us.”

“Right.” Ham was digging in his pocket.

Then cops came from everywhere.

TEDDY GOT OFF the elevator on the sixth-floor men’s department, turned right and walked into the men’s room. He went into a stall, reversed his coat so that the raincoat side was now out, folded his felt hat and put it into the coat pocket, took a tweed cap from the other pocket and put that on, then pulled off the Vandyke and nose and put those in his pockets.

He left his shopping bag on the toilet seat, went to a sink and turned on the water, then checked his reflection. There were bits of spirit gum clinging to his face and he wiped it clean with a damp towel. He left a dollar for the attendant, then walked out of the men’s room, past the elevators to the escalator, donning a pair of heavy, black-rimmed glasses as he walked. As he started down he saw two men walking very quickly away from him through the men’s department, gun hands in their pockets, talking into their fists. He began walking down the escalator to make his descent faster.

HOLLY FRISKED THE DOWNED SHOOTER for more weapons and found none, just the two.45s, but he had half a dozen full magazines in his overcoat pockets. He had stopped moving, now, and she thought he must be dead. “Ham, how many rounds did you fire?”

“Two,” Ham replied.

Two holes in the man’s chest were oozing blood.

“I heard two more,” Holly said.

“So did I, but it wasn’t me. The gun noise was a little light, maybe a.380.”

Holly looked at the woman from the team, “Did you fire your weapon?”

“No,” the woman said.

“Who did?” Holly asked.

“I think it was Teddy Fay,” she replied.

Then the police were in charge. Holly identified herself and Ham, and they talked to a detective for half an hour as he covered the scene.

“He’s got two holes in his chest and two in his back,” the detective said. “Who was the other shooter?”

“I’ve no idea,” Holly replied.

LANCE WAS SITTING AT HIS DESK, disconsolately working his way through some administrative paperwork, when his cell phone vibrated on his belt.

“Yes?”

A man’s excited voice riveted his attention. “He’s in Saks!” he panted.

“Who?”

“Teddy Fay. There was some sort of commotion and gunfire over at Rockefeller Plaza, and I spotted a man who fits the description crossing the street and ducking into the store. Request maximum backup!”

“Easy now,” Lance said. “Did anybody else make him?”

“Martin did; she radioed me, and I was on my way when I saw the guy. He matched the description.”

“Give me the description?”

“Six feet, slim, wearing a tweed overcoat and a regular felt men’s hat, broken nose, mustache and chin whiskers, brown. He was carrying a shopping bag, a red one, filled with wrapped presents.”

“I’ll have people there shortly,” Lance said. “In the meantime, have your team cover the main floor exits; don’t let him leave the store.”

“Got it.”

Lance closed his cell phone, picked up his desk phone and entered a twelve-digit number that would ring the cell phones of every man and woman in his unit. “Listen up, everybody; Teddy Fay has been spotted at Saks Fifth Avenue, that’s between Forty-ninth and Fiftieth. Everybody converge on Saks right now, no delay. When last seen Fay was wearing a tweed topcoat, a felt hat, a broken nose and a brown Vandyke beard. He’s carrying a red shopping bag with wrapped gifts inside.” He repeated the instructions, then dialed the front desk. “This is Cabot; I want a car out front now.” He ran for the elevator.

HOLLY WAS TALKING to a police detective when her cell phone rang and she got Lance’s message. “I have to go,” she said. “I’ll talk to you, Lieutenant, later.”

“You can’t go,” the detective said. “This is a police investigation.”

“No,” she said, “it’s a national security matter. Mr. Barker will continue to talk to you.” She sprinted toward Fifth Avenue, grateful that she had not worn high heels. Traffic was at a standstill, and she threaded her way through it and ran into Saks through the center revolving doors. She immediately spotted a team member guarding the entrance and ran up to him. “What’s the word?”

“He’s upstairs somewhere,” the man replied. “Lance is scrambling everybody. In the meantime, we’re to watch the exits; we can use your help.”

“How did he get upstairs?”

“Elevator. An agent saw him.”

Holly ran for the rear of the store. She was about to go for the elevators when she saw the escalator. That would give her at least a quick look at each floor. She got on and headed up. On the second floor she got off, looked slowly around for as far as she could see. No tweed topcoat, not that he would still be wearing that. She got back on the escalator and began ascending, looking for a man with no coat at all.