Неизвестный: 6. Justice For All

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Justice for All

ChAPTER ThIRTy-ONE

Everyone should be settled in by now,” Rebecca said a few minutes after they watched Sandy climb out of a black SUV

and go into the hotel with two men and a couple of other girls. She checked Watts and Sloan. “Ready?”

“Fucking A,” Watts growled, releasing the strap on his holster before reaching for the door handle.

“Looking forward to it,” Sloan said easily.

“I’ll alert Clark to move on Zamora. Watts, radio when you rendezvous with the tactical team at the service elevators. We’ll take the lobby and clear the stairwell. Wait on the door until we get there if you can.”

“Roger, Loo.” Watts slid out of the car and hurried away with a spring in his step.

Rebecca speed dialed Clark, snapped, “We’re moving,” and disconnected.

“The Russians will be armed,” Rebecca reminded Sloan. “You stay at the rear and out of the line of fire.”

“How about I just watch your back and we don’t worry about where I’m standing.”

“Fair enough. But Jesus, keep your head down.” Rebecca grinned as she opened her car door. “I don’t need Michael after me for getting you bruised.”

Laughing, Sloan climbed out and joined Rebecca as they headed toward the front entrance. “I’m sorry Jason is missing this one.”

“We need him back at headquarters monitoring Zamora, just in case he gets wind of this and starts dumping data.” Rebecca slowed as

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her radio crackled and Watts relayed that the strike team was in position.

“I copy. Give us thirty seconds. Then go.”

Rebecca and Sloan sprinted into the lobby, jogged around guests and bellmen, and hurtled into the stairwell.

v

Dell heard a muffled shout through the door and knocked the Russian guard next to her off balance as the door crashed open. Everyone in the room shouted at once as officers in riot gear stormed into the room. Girls cowered on the floor, men scattered while trying to zip and cover, and the Russians reached for weapons. Dell took advantage of the pandemonium and the momentary cover provided by the strike team to elbow the guard in the temple. The guy dropped like a stone.

Dell immediately checked for Sandy and saw her drag the girl with her behind the sofa. Across the room, Watts manhandled the other guard up against the wet bar and slammed his head down amidst the bottles and glasses. The lieutenant shoved the priest to the floor next to the sofa and cuffed him. The remaining johns jostled like spooked cattle, trying to get out the door past the police who were busy restraining them.

The situation seemed contained until Dell caught a glimpse of Olik yanking Irina by the arm toward the hallway that led to the rear of the penthouse. She wasn’t certain of the layout, but she thought there might be another exit.

Shouldering her way through the melee, she raced down the hall.

When she pushed through a partially open door, she found herself in another large sitting room with a wide foyer to her left and sofas and chairs grouped around an empty fireplace off to her right. In the foyer, Olik, one hand twisted in Irina’s hair, jerked open the door to the hall.

Dell couldn’t let him take her. She yanked her backup piece from her ankle holster and leveled it at Olik’s head. “Olik. Let her go!”

Seconds stretched into eternity as Olik thrust Irina in front of him and raised his automatic.

“Irina! Get down!” Dell shouted, desperately angling for a clear shot. Then Irina lunged at Olik and the air erupted in gunfire.

v

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Justice for All

Rebecca dropped into a crouch in the doorway and scanned the sitting room. Mitchell knelt nearby, blood covering one side of her face and her gun hand wavering. Irina was sprawled in the center of the foyer, a widening patch of crimson soaking her blouse.

“Hallway,” Mitchell gasped, staggering to her feet. “I’ll cover you.”

Sloan stormed by and yelled, “See to the girl! I’m with Frye.”

Rebecca leapt for the door. “Go low.”

“Got it,” Sloan called.

They burst into the hall side by side. Rebecca pivoted against the wall and Sloan skidded to her knees on the far side, weapon extended.

Olik was twenty feet away, almost at the stairwell doors.

“Police,” Rebecca shouted. “Drop the weapon!”

Olik half turned in their direction and fired blindly while diving for the stairwell. Sloan and Rebecca opened fire.

v

“Dell!” Sandy threw herself down next to Dell. “Dell. Oh, Jesus.”

“I’m okay,” Dell said, wiping her forearm across the side of her face. “Just nicked me. God, Irina.”

Gunfire clattered in the hall outside.

“Go,” Sandy yelled, flinging herself toward Irina. “I’ll take care of her.”

Dell rushed across the room and ducked into the hall. Sandy pulled up Irina’s blouse and pressed the heel of her hand to the ragged two-inch hole below her left collarbone. Flecks of blood streaked Irina’s lips, and her breath rattled with each shallow inhalation.

Irina’s eyes fluttered open. “Mitch?”

“He’s okay,” Sandy muttered, pressing harder as the flow of blood picked up. “Don’t talk, okay? Just lie still. You’ll be okay.”

“Mika,” Irina whispered. “My sister. Someone take care…”

“Listen,” Sandy snapped, leaning over so Irina could see her face.

“Shut up. You’re making the bleeding worse. You’ll be fine. You can take care of your sister yourself. You got it?”

Irina smiled weakly. “Mitch’s girl.”

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“You bet your ass. Now hush.” Sandy’s heart dropped when Irina’s eyes rolled back and she went very still. When she heard pounding footsteps behind her, she prayed it wasn’t one of the Russians.

“Fuck,” Watts yelled. “Fuck. Fuck.”

“Do something, will you?” Sandy screamed at him.

He already had his radio out and was shouting for EMTs. Then he disappeared into the hallway, too, leaving Sandy alone in the sudden stillness.

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Justice for All

ChAPTER ThIRTy-TwO

Rebecca stepped over the pool of blood where Irina’s body had lain. The bitter tang of blood and cordite hung in the air and coated her throat with frustration and fury. Uniformed officers strung yellow crime scene tape over the doorways, and a police photographer and the crime scene crew, talking in hushed whispers, processed the now empty rooms.

“I’ll meet you at the car,” Rebecca said to Sloan, stopping outside the bedroom door where she had posted one of the state police.

“You need help with this?” Sloan asked.

“No, but do me a favor? Call Catherine for me. Tell her…” Rebecca grimaced. “Tell her I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

“No problem.”

The other johns had already been loaded into police vans and shipped off for booking. Her duty was to deliver the priest to a waiting squad car so he could be whisked away in anonymity. She nodded to the officer on the door. “Thanks. I’ll take it from here.”

The Most Reverend Joseph Thomas sat on the side of the bed, glaring at her, his hands cuffed behind his back. His unbuckled belt hung over his open fly, but he’d apparently had time to get his dick back in his pants. Too bad.

“Take these things off my wrists,” he demanded. “They’re very uncomfortable.”

“Sorry, I can’t do that until you’ve been transferred. Then you can complain to whoever will listen about anything that’s bothering you.”

She grabbed him by the elbow. “Let’s go.”

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She escorted her special prisoner down the hallway to the service elevator and then through a long, deserted basement tunnel to the delivery entrance.