Неизвестный - 5. Justice Served

Sloan heard the uncharacteristic edge of anxiety in Rebecca’s voice as she made some adjustments to the receiver. “Mitch is probably standing behind some kind of barrier—a concrete column maybe, or a steel door.”

“I thought you could get through anything with that. I’ve got to know what’s happening every second. Christ.” Rebecca looked out the driver’s window at the blacked-out windows of the long, low-slung building. There was very little trafÞ c, and the street was eerily dark. Even the streetlights had been knocked out by gangs using them for target practice. What little illumination there was came from the ß ickering red ß uorescent sign that announced Ziggie’s. The place looked like a black hole, and she had two of her people inside. She ß icked a glance in the rearview mirror and checked on Watts, moderately comforted to see him sitting in a similar nondescript department-issue vehicle on the opposite side of the street.

“Don’t worry, this kind of interference is usually temp—”

“Hello, new boy. You are late.”

“Oh yeah? Have you been missing me?”

Low throaty laughter. “Give me your hand. Mmm, you

feel? What do you think?”

“I think your nipples are hard because you’ve been

imagining my mouth on them.” Mitch’s voice came through the small speakers sounding rough and urgent. “I bet you’re wet too.”

“Maybe. But maybe not for you.”

“Oh no. It’s for me. You’re on Þ re.”

• 283 •

RADCLY fFE

“You think you know what I want, Mitch?”

“Give me your hand. Now feel that.” A quick gasp, a

deep groan. “Oh yeah, just like that.”

“You’ve been thinking about me too, new boy.” More

laughter, sharp and triumphant. “Yesss. I can feel what you brought me, so big and hard already.”

“Uh-huh, that’s what I thought you wanted. Jesus, go slow.”

“Why? You want to come now, I can tell. Come in my

hand—do it. Come all over that big cock of yours.”

“Not here. Not like this.” The sound of quick, panting breaths. “Irina, don’t jack me off here. Come on, baby. You know how much I need to come inside you.”

“I have a room back there. I want you to fuck me now, new boy.”

“No. No. I want to touch all of you. I wanna take my time.” A rustle of fabric, a low keening sound of pleasure verging on pain. “You’re so wet, baby. I wanna make you come all night long.” Another whimper. “Take me home where I can make love to you, Irina. Please.”

v

In the hallway, Irina arched beneath Mitch’s hands, her head back, her eyes closed, her Þ ngers clamped around his wrist—pushing his Þ ngers deeper between her thighs. Mitch felt her clitoris lengthen and harden, and knowing she was about to come, lifted his Þ ngers and eased the dangerous pressure.

“Please,” she moaned. “Mitch, Mitch…”

“I’ll make you come, baby,” Mitch murmured, his mouth against her neck. “I promise. I’ll make you come until you scream. Just take me home with you.”

Eyes glazed, breasts heaving, she dug her Þ ngernails into his arm.

“Let me come now.”

He moved his Þ ngers from between her legs and cupped her breast, rubbing his thumb gently over her nipple. “Wait, baby. Wait. It will be so much better when I can do you right.”

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Justice Served

Irina’s eyes ß ared with anger and need. She twisted her Þ ngers in his hair and kissed him, her teeth closing on his lip until he groaned.

v

“Come on, come on,” Rebecca muttered, staring at the rectangular metal box propped on the console between the front seats. Her Þ sts were closed tightly on her thighs, and she had to Þ ght the urge to jump from the car and storm into the building. “Give us a fucking address.”

“He’s almost got her,” Sloan said quietly, intently. Every few seconds she made minute adjustments to the dials, modulating the sound and damping the background static.

“Bastard!”

“Oh, come on, baby, just think about me inside you,

how good it will be.”

“I don’t know— ”

“They’ll be closing here in twenty minutes. I’ll just follow you home.”

“No.” Firm and sharp. “No, they will be watching for that.”

“Who? Who will be watching?”

“It is not important. You come in an hour.”

“An hour’s a long time to wait when I’m this hard.”

Laughter, light and relaxed. “Then you’ll be sure to come, no?”

“Oh yeah, baby. I’m going to come all right. And so are you.”

v

Five minutes later, Jasmine exited the club and walked at a leisurely pace down the street. No one followed, and after one quick scan of the street, she crossed directly to Watts’s vehicle and got in the passenger side. Ten minutes later, Mitch came out the door and strode directly to the car that he and Jasmine had arrived in.

“He’s got the address,” Sloan said with satisfaction.

Mitch’s voice came through the speaker clearly. “I’m supposed to

• 285 •

RADCLY fFE

park in an alley behind the 500 block of Levick in North Philly. She’s going to let me in the back door in an hour. She didn’t give me the exact address but said she’d ß ick the light over the door twice when she was ready to open it. She’s careful.”

“Too careful to be taking a stranger into the stash house,” Rebecca said with a frown, frustrated by the lack of two-way communication.

“And that’s what’s worried me the whole time about this setup. Why the hell would she risk it?”

“Mitch isn’t exactly a stranger. He came with the regulars, and that made him part of the scene. And let’s face it. He’s got her hooked so bad, she’s not thinking straight.” Sloan laughed softly. “Jesus, he’s dangerous.”

“Still, I wish I could talk to him.”

“Mitch knows the plan. He’ll be Þ ne, because we’ll be right behind him.”

“Let’s make sure we are.” Rebecca checked her watch. “We’ll wait another twenty minutes to make sure Irina and the girls are gone.

Then we’ll drive ahead and set up a perimeter around that block.”

“Black-and-whites?”

“I don’t see any reason for an assault team at this point. They’ll just—”

Mitch’s voice cut in. “I’m going to drive around for a while, because I don’t want anyone who might be looking to see me hanging out here.” There was a beat of silence. “See you when it’s over.”

Rebecca watched Mitch’s car pull away, then reached for her two-way. “This is Detective Lieutenant Rebecca Frye, requesting backup at the following location.”

Her mind was clear, her focus sharp. It had begun.

Tuesday, 2:46 a.m., North Philadelphia

Mitchell sat in the car in the dark in the narrow alley that ran behind a series of opposing row houses identical to those that lined every block in North Philadelphia like so many Monopoly houses arranged on a board. Every fourth or Þ fth building showed a light burning somewhere, but less than a handful had the single lamp adjacent to the rear door

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Justice Served

lit. Ground-ß oor garages opened onto the alley with narrow second-

ß oor decks jutting out over them. The back door was tucked beneath the overhang adjacent to the garage. She guessed that the door opened into a room or hallway that led to the stairs to the rest of the house.

With luck, the rear entrance wouldn’t be guarded, at least not on the basement level. She could only assume that was the case, since Irina apparently planned to let her into the building that way.

She checked her watch and peered into the gloom at the far end of the alley. She wondered where the lieutenant would set up the perimeter.