Green Light (Sam Archer 7) (37 page)

‘
Bellick, what’s your status?’ Hicks spoke quietly into his
mic.

No
response.

‘
Bellick?’

Nothing.

Cursing
under his breath, he looked up into the mist of the dark
stairwell.

Just as
he heard the sound of something rolling down the stairs.

Reacting
instantly, Hicks ducked back, covering his ears and turning away
from the door to the stairwell, but the three men in front of him
weren’t as fast.

The disorientated officers in the stairwell on the
5
^th
floor had been relatively easy to put down and were now lying
zip-tied and unconscious on the landing, the smoke from the grenade
still swirling around them. Hendricks and Shepherd waited for the
flash-bang to go off and then moved rapidly down the stairwell
through the smoke, ready to secure the remaining ESU
officers.

Three of
them were stunned and disorientated, two on the stairwell floor and
the other bent double, leaning against the wall. Hendricks moved
forward and quickly cuffed the three guys, then he and Shepherd
lifted their Mossbergs and moved forward to find the fourth
man.

As soon
as both appeared in the corridor, there were two rapid gunshots.
Both men shouted in pain as they took a hit, Shepherd knocked back
against the wall and cursing as he clutched his arm, Hendricks
taking one to the thigh, swearing as he fell to the
floor.

‘
Put your weapons down!
’ a voice
suddenly ordered through the smoke, a beam of light slicing through
it.
‘Do it or I’ll fire again, I swear to
God!’

Holding
his arm, Shepherd saw Jake had dropped his shotgun and was on the
floor clutching his leg; with no choice, he placed his Mossberg
carefully on the floor in front of him.

The last
member of the ESU stepped forward and easing round the two injured
men, shut the door to the stairwell, stopping the flow of
smoke.

Letting
go of his wounded arm for a moment to slowly shield his eyes,
Shepherd could just make out the stripes on the man’s shoulder,
meaning this guy was their sergeant.

Peering
closer at the man’s face as he turned, he recognised him instantly.
‘Hicks?’

The ESU
Sergeant paused then looked closer at the two men he’d just
shot.

‘
Shep?’ Pause. ‘What the hell are you two doing here? We had a
report a pair of NYPD sergeants had gone rogue. They didn’t say it
was you.’

‘
Listen to me,’ Shepherd said urgently. ‘I didn’t assault
Lieutenant Royston. He made up some bullshit charge and sent his
men to Brighton Beach to bring us both in.’

‘
Did you put them down?’ Hicks asked, keeping his AR-15
up.

‘
We had to,’ Hendricks answered. ‘No way were they going to let
us go. One of our detectives was killed tonight. Archer’s going to
join her if we don’t get to him right now.’

In the
light from the torches on the fallen mens’ weapons, Shepherd saw
Hick’s eyes narrow.

Hicks
lowered his gun a fraction. ‘Sam Archer? The guy from the Harlem
building?’

‘
That’s right. And the detective who died was Alice Vargas. She
was in there with him that night.’

‘
C’mon man, make a decision.’ Hendricks said through gritted
teeth, holding his thigh. ‘We need to move. And I could use a
Band-Aid.’

Hicks
didn’t reply, still keeping his rifle on the pair.

Then he
slowly lowered it and the tension immediately eased.

‘
Where’s Archer?’ he asked, stepping forward and dropping down
to examine the wound on Hendricks’ leg.

‘
He should have been here by now.’ Wincing, Shepherd released
his arm and pulled his cell. ‘I’ll have one of our analysts trace
his car. No point chasing around the city until we know where he
is.’

‘
Shit, I don’t think you guys are going anywhere except the
ER,’ Hicks said, looking at the wound on Hendricks’
thigh.

Hendricks shook his head. ‘No way. Help me up.’

Shepherd
and Hicks moved either side of him, hoisting him back to his feet;
Hendricks gritted his teeth.

‘
Christ, Hicks,’ he grunted. ‘You owe us a beer.’

‘
I only clipped you.’

‘
Much appreciated.’

Once
Shepherd was supporting Hendricks’ weight, Hicks pulled a knife and
cut the binds on the three unconscious ESU officer’s wrists,
Shepherd propping Hendricks up as he pulled his phone and called
the Bureau.

‘
Ethan, it’s me. Where does Archer’s GPS put him?’ Shepherd
asked, putting his cell on speaker.

‘
Heading south from Central Park North, sir. I think he’s
taking her to the safe-house on 66
^th
Street.’

‘
Has he taken any more fire?’

‘
There’ve been no more reports but I don’t know.’

Kneeling
by his three unconscious men and hearing the transmission, Hicks
looked up. ‘You’d better get moving and back him up.’

He rose,
ready to go upstairs and check on the others.

‘
If I was you, I wouldn’t want to be here when these guys wake
up.’

After weaving his way through Manhattan, eventually making it
to the west side, Archer had managed to shake his and April’s
pursuers. He’d just parked in the basement of the building of
another Department safe house on 66
^th
Street, a stone’s throw from
Columbus Circle, somewhere their attackers wouldn’t know to find
them.

He and
April walked quickly across the car park, heading towards the door
to the stairs, Archer with his pistol in his hand. Ducking into the
stairwell, he checked back quickly to make sure no one had seen
them enter, then moved into the stairwell, keeping April right
behind him. He needed to get them into the safe-house before
anything else happened. The place was equipped with everything he’d
need to protect them until back-up arrived.

Arriving
on the third floor, he moved down the corridor then drew the keys
and unlocked the door, feeling his phone ring in his
pocket.

Looking
down, he reached into his jeans for it as he opened up.

A moment
later, something hit him over the back of the head hard, knocking
him to the floor. As April screamed Archer tried to get back to his
feet but Tully was on him, clamping a chloroform rag to his mouth
with his good hand, burying his knee in his back as Archer
resisted.

‘
No! Get off him!’
April shouted,
running forward to try and pull Tully away.

However
an arm suddenly snaked around her waist and pulled her back,
another rag clamped over her mouth by Henderson as he kicked the
door shut behind him. Archer was fighting to rise, but this time
Tully had the advantage, clamping the chemicals to his
nose.

Doing
everything he could to fight him off, Archer involuntarily
inhaled.

Then
everything went black.

FORTY FIVE

The
purring vibration of his cell phone in his pocket roused him from
unconsciousness.

Archer
opened his eyes and saw he was lying on his side. He could hear
liquid being poured into something the other side of the door, a
strong chemical smell hitting his nose. He fought the fog in his
brain, trying to focus and get his bearings, and then he saw April
lying a few feet from him, similarly tied up with a strip of tape
across her mouth.

She’d
already come round and was staring at him, looking terrified. He
fought with the binds on his wrists but they were zipped tight
behind him. A beat later the door directly in front of him opened
and he found himself looking up at Henderson, his face partially
busted up from their fight earlier.

The
large man stood in the doorway for a moment, hearing the noise of
the vibrating phone, then walked over and knelt down beside Archer,
pulling the phone out of his pocket and looking at the display.
Rising, he dropped the Nokia and stamped on it several times with
his boot, breaking it to pieces, some of the flying fragments
hitting Archer in the face.

From his
horizontal position, he could see into the bathroom across the
safe-house. Plastic sheeting was covering the bathroom floor; Tully
was carefully pouring something into the bath-tub.

‘
How long?’ Henderson asked his partner.

‘
Almost done.’

Henderson grinned.

‘
We’re going to cut you up first,’ he said, looking down at
Archer. ‘It’s not normally our style but after what you and your
friend did to Lister we figured we owe you some extra
attention.’

Stepping
over Archer, Henderson hauled April out into the main room then
propped her up against the wall.

‘
We’ll leave the door open so you can watch. Everything we do
to him, we’re gonna do twice as bad to you.’ He laughed. ‘You
shouldn’t have run from us, bitch. We were always going to get you.
You’ve been a real pain in the ass.’

She sat
there staring at him, wide-eyed in terror.

Then
Henderson walked back to Archer and dragged him feet-first across
the apartment towards the tub.

As he
was pulled into the bathroom, the stink of the chemicals got much
stronger, making his eyes water. Henderson unceremoniously dropped
his legs, the plastic sheeting cold under his back.

‘
We’ll be back in a minute,’ Henderson said, laughing again.
‘Don’t go anywhere.’

Then the
two men walked out of the room, leaving him on the
floor.

Across
the apartment, Archer could see April staring at him in terror as
he heard the sounds of drawers being opened in the kitchen next
door. As he lay there, he knew two things for certain. Number one
was he’d been set up by someone at the Bureau, otherwise Henderson
and Tully would never have known about this safe-house or that he
and April were coming here. Someone must have traced the GPS on his
car. Also, Shepherd and Hendricks should have shown up by now,
which meant something had gone wrong. The Latino gang had known
where he lived too, which meant they’d also been fed that
information.

Lying
there on the cold bathroom floor, the room stinking of chemicals,
Archer’s eyes narrowed as he realised who it had to be, now
understanding why Henderson, Tully and Lister had always been a
step ahead of them.

The
other certainty was he knew he was about to die.

And
there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.

Inside his office at the 114
^th
Precinct, Royston stared
anxiously at his phone and then the radio. He was waiting to hear
from ESU to confirm Shepherd and Hendricks were in
custody.

He was
also waiting to hear confirmation that Archer and the hooker were
dead.

Behind the two gadgets on the computer screen was the NYPD’s
GPS tracing software, the light pinging on
66
^th
where Archer’s car had stopped. It was the only safe-house in
that part of town; Royston had guessed that was where he’d be going
and had sent Henderson and Tully there ahead of him.

The
phone and radio just sat there, almost defiant in their silence. He
swallowed, feeling panic building inside him, seeing the intricate
web of lies threatening to entrap him despite everything he’d done
to avoid exactly that. All this shit had started several months ago
but had come to a crisis four weeks back when that whore had been
shot in the car park. A hooker getting shot wasn’t exactly news in
New York, but Royston’s phone had rung out of the blue the same
night, clear orders issued, the fifty-nine year old Lieutenant
being made very aware of the consequences if he didn’t obey them to
the letter.

Once the
shooting of Detective Vargas had come to Royston’s attention, her
file hadn’t been the focus; the man who’d been shot alongside her
was. Sam Archer possessed a reputation for being an excellent cop
as well as a tenacious son of a bitch and that was a major concern
for the people blackmailing Royston. Archer and the rest of
Shepherd’s team were going to be a big problem and these people
needed them as far away from the case as possible.

Stall this or you know what the consequences will be,
he’d been told.

With
everything they had on him, Royston hadn’t had a choice.

The shooting had gone down in his Precinct’s jurisdiction
which was a bonus, meaning he could call the shots. After delaying
the investigation as long as he could, Royston had rolled in to
work one day to find Shepherd and his team at the
114
^th
Precinct base on Astoria Boulevard. Panic and a survival
instinct had kicked in; he’d confronted the group, reckoning attack
was the best option and had deliberately provoked Archer, making
some dismissive and derogatory comments about Vargas.

It’d
worked. Archer had lost the plot and punched him, giving Royston
all the ammo he needed to get Archer suspended and out of the
picture.