Kill Zone: A Lucy Guardino FBI Thriller (24 page)

“Let me know as soon as that cell moves,” she told Taylor. Gunfire sounded. Maybe a few blocks away. “How fast can Jenna get here?”

“She’s there already. Been making a wide loop of the area. Says most of the Rippers left their HQ, just a few left behind to guard it. Hasn’t seen Zapata or Raziq.”

How the hell was Jenna driving around Ruby Avenue without the Rippers spotting her? True, the Tahoe’s windows were tinted and Lucy hadn’t seen a working street lamp since they arrived, but still, it was a big risk. “Have her drive to the corner of Ruby and Felicia. We’re at the yellow brick house on the corner.”

“Will do.”

She returned to the bushes where she’d left the others. “He’ll radio when he has anything. In the meantime, our ride is coming.”

“What if Zapata doesn’t use the Escalade? We should have stayed and kept eyes on him,” Haddad told her.
 

With both the Rippers and Zapata’s men after them? She understood his frustration, but she’d made the right call.

A car turned down the side street, heading towards them, slowly, passengers on both sides holding large flashlights, scanning the area.
 

They all flattened on the ground. When it was safe again, Haddad sat up and turned to Stone. “Why were you there with Fatima? Do you know where they were headed?”

Stone said nothing at first. The faint moonlight reflected from his eyes; the rest of his face was hidden by the fabric of his mask. It was very unsettling. Two eyes alive in the shadows of his hoodie.

Then he nodded. “I’ll tell you everything. But first you have to make sure my Grams is safe.”

Jenna slid up beside them in the Tahoe, her lights off. They hopped in, Lucy in the back with Stone, Haddad up front.
 

“Where to?” Jenna asked.
 

Stone answered before Lucy could say anything. “Turn left on Ruby, head over the hill, down three blocks. That’s my Gram’s house.”

<><><> 

“People are dying.” Jenna had said. “They need my help.”
 

Jenna acted like Morgan didn’t understand what that meant, like she didn’t care.
 

Of course, she didn’t. Why should she? What had “people” ever done for her?

Besides, she was a sociopath. She didn’t have to care. She couldn’t.
 

It was like having a permanent excuse to get out of gym class.

Or a crutch. Morgan didn’t like that. Yes, she could get away with murder—but if she did, she wanted it to be because she was smarter, cleverer, because she deserved to, not because some part of her brain was wired wrong.

Or wired right. Her father said they were the superior beings. Predators. Of course they had to hunt. It was their nature, being higher on the food chain, the next link in human evolution.

Look how he ended up. Self-destructing in a most spectacular way. All because he couldn’t deny his primal impulses, his blood lust. Now he was caged in a six by eight cell, like a zoo specimen.
 

That was Morgan’s idea of hell. She’d kill herself before she ever let that happen. Only question was: who would she take with her?

No, no, no!
She screamed, the shrill noise echoing through the empty house. She wanted to hit something, someone. But she restrained herself. She was better than that. Better than her father.

She hoped.

No. She
was
.
 

Well… at least she wanted to be. Nick was right. She was smart enough, strong enough to go another route than the one her father had chosen—but she needed to learn so much more if she was going to succeed.
 

There was nothing Morgan hated more than failure.

She grabbed her laptop, pulled up the spyware on Jenna and Nick’s phones. Jenna was on Ruby Avenue, driving down the same street where Nick was stationary. That was strange. What were they both doing on Ruby Avenue, this time of night?

Jenna had said something about lives needing saving. She'd sounded rushed and excited—and had the nerve to hang up on Morgan. Something must be happening, something big that Morgan missed while she was dealing with Nick.

She opened up a new tab with Pittsburgh Police radio calls streaming live, another one linked to a local news channel. Flipped back and forth between them, enjoying the hyper-stimulation as she pieced together what was happening.

The entire city was under attack, police stations bombed, snipers, fires at hockey games, civilians killed, helicopters down. Mesmerized by the chaos, she surfed from site to site watching jerky cell phone videos of the destruction, reading Tweets, listening to news anchors all breathy and thrilled at being the center of the nation’s attention as they pronounced it “the night Pittsburgh died.”

Morgan grabbed her laptop and car keys. No way in hell was she going to miss out on the fun.

Chapter 27

“I told you,” Esther said as soon as the shooting slowed enough for them to hear anything. “Nowhere is safe tonight.”

“Who is that out there?” Nick asked. His voice sounded abnormally loud and a bit more panicked than he would have liked. He took a deep breath. “Why are they shooting at us?”

The women around the table looked at him as if he were daft. Or particularly slow. All he felt was shock.

“This is Ruby Avenue,” one of the women said. “Home of the Rippers.”

“They don’t need no reason,” chimed in another.

“Call 911,” Nick said.

The women laughed. “911 don’t work here best of times.”

“Won’t do no good,” Esther said. “Not tonight.”

“Maybe someone from the church?” Nick suggested. “You could text or Skype the nuns, ask them.”

“I’m not bringing the Sisters into a middle of a gunfight.”

She had a point. “Just see if they can help.” He grabbed his own cell phone and dialed Lucy.

“Are the Rippers behind this crime wave y’all are charting?” Nick asked, gesturing to the map on the laptop and the never-ending stream of police calls coming from Esther’s headphones.

“Them and some Spanish, best we can tell,” Esther said. “Blew up the 911 Center, shooting at police stations, trying to blow up bridges and tunnels.”

“All hell broke loose,” one of her friends said solemnly.

“But why here? What do they want from you?”

Loud knocking at the front door echoed down the hall. Nick was glad for the sturdy construction of the row house and the fact that since it was the middle unit, it only had windows front and back. The dining room was probably the safest place in the house.
 

The knocking repeated. “Sorry ‘bout all the fuss, Miss Esther,” a man called. He sounded like he was fighting off laughter. “But we needs you to come with us.”

“Ain’t going nowhere with you Mathias Maddoc! You just try and make me.”

“Esther, don’t agitate them,” Nick said.

“It’s my house. I’ll agitate whomever I please,” she snapped.

“Want me to shoot them, Esther?”
 

Nick spun around. The quiet lady in the corner had fished a large revolver out of her bag. He grabbed it from her, ignoring her arched eyebrow in rebuke.
 

“No one is shooting anyone.” He turned to Esther. “Why do they want you?”

“Probably something to do with Andre. He used to run with the Rippers when he was young.”

“Yes, but—” Nick trailed off, not wanting to let Esther know the Rippers already had Andre. Which answered his own question. Damn, he was getting thick. They wanted her as leverage to force Andre to kill that man.

Maddoc pounded on the door. “Just come out and talk, will ya? I promise, Miss Esther, nothing’s going to happen to you.”

“Like I’m going to listen to you after you shot out my upstairs!”

Nick handed his phone to the woman he’d taken the gun off of. “Keep dialing that number. If someone answers, tell them Nick needs help and bring it to me, okay?”

She smiled and nodded.
 

“Is there another way out?”

“Just the backdoor. But just because they’re Rippers don’t mean they’re stupid. They’ll be watching it,” one of the other women answered.

“And we’re not leaving Esther.”

“How about the basement? It’s got to be more defensible than here.” The women looked at each other and nodded. “Why don’t you ladies help Esther down to the basement and I’ll try to buy us some time.”

They grabbed their laptops and purses and moved through the door to the kitchen.

Nick craned his head out into the hall and looked down towards the door. Not an ideal negotiating position but he’d just talked his way out of an encounter with a sociopathic killer, so why not? After all, he’d read all the hostage negotiating texts, had even contributed a few chapters himself.

He studied the pistol. Revolver. Simple enough that even he could handle it. Although despite Lucy’s best efforts, he was not the best shot in the world. Should he leave it with the women to defend themselves?

No. He
was
their defense. The weight of that realization made the gun feel heavy in his hand. Not only was he responsible for the safety of Esther and her friends, but he had to somehow stay alive long enough for more help to arrive.

Not going to be easy. He glanced down the hallway towards the front foyer. Lucy always said to take the high ground and put your back to a wall. Should he make a dash for the steps, make his stand there? He’d have an excellent shot at the front door, but if they came in the back he’d be blind and out of position.

The middle of the hallway was the only place where he could cover both entrances. He’d be in direct line of fire of anyone coming from either direction. Damn, how did Lucy make these decisions? He’d been standing here almost a full minute and she usually only had split seconds before acting.

Clearly the gun wasn’t the answer as much as a last resort. He positioned it on the floor beside the front door where he could reach it quickly. If it came to that.
 

“Mathias,” he called out as soon as he saw the door to the basement shut with the ladies safely on the other side. “Let’s talk. I think I can help you.”

<><><> 

Lucy nodded to Jenna. “Go ahead. Turn around and drive down Ruby. But slowly. Anything looks off, get us out of here.”

Jenna craned her head to take a look at Stone. “You caught my bomber. Way to go.”

“Bomber? I haven’t done anything,” Stone protested.

“Then you won’t mind letting me take your waist pack and search you for weapons.” Lucy grabbed a pair of flex-cuffs from her vest and held them out for Stone. “Put your hands out.”

“Look, lady—”

“That’s Supervisory Special Agent Guardino,” Haddad snapped in a tone Lucy hadn’t heard from him before. “She’s securing her position, Stone. Cooperate, Marine.”

Stone blew out his breath. “Yes, sir. But I’m on your side.”

He slid his hands into the plastic restraints. For the first time Lucy got a good look at the scars left from his burns. She pulled the restraints over the cuffs of his jacket so they wouldn’t bite into his skin. Once he was secure, she took his waist pack, handed it to Haddad to examine then patted him down for weapons. All she found was a folding knife, which she pocketed.

They crested the hill above the Rippers’ HQ. Jenna stopped the Tahoe. “We got trouble.”

Lucy leaned forward, expecting to see Rippers coming at them from Kujo's. Smoke hung above the house and there were still flames visible at the side of the house. Product of Stone’s firebomb. Two Rippers stood guard at the front porch. Other than that, the place looked deserted.

She glanced farther down the hill. Two blocks down, several SUVs gathered in front of a group of row houses. Their headlights silhouetted two men with machine pistols aiming at the center house.

“That’s my grams’ house,” Stone said. “You have to help her.”

Lucy used her monocular to get a better look. The Rippers had only shot the upper floor’s windows; the first floor appeared intact. Then the front door opened. A man dressed in gray sweatpants and a navy fleece jacket appeared. He stepped into the glare of the headlights, arms held open and wide, hands empty indicating that he wasn’t a threat. White, about six foot with reddish-blond hair.

Nick.

<><><> 

Trooper 4: Allegheny Tower, Allegheny Tower, do you copy?

Allegheny Air Traffic Control: Copy, Trooper 4, go ahead.

Trooper 4: Having trouble getting through to Incident Command. Can you relay message that we’re fine, no need to divert assets to assist?

Allegheny Air Traffic Control: Trooper 4, confirm your status.

Trooper 4: Downed by mechanical failure but otherwise A-OK