Silent Night (Sam Archer 4) (32 page)

Once he was done at the coffee shop, Reese was told to go to some lab on 66
th
and
Amsterdam
. Apparently there was one last vial of the virus that had been missed which they didn’t need anymore and a bitch doctor who needed to be got rid of. Drexler had offered to find her and take her out but Finn said she’d have cops guarding her. They couldn’t waste time looking for her either. They’d been assured that the woman would be the next person to go inside the main lab, so Reese had entered the building and the lab using a key card Finn gave him. He’d headed upstairs and rigged up the virus with a bug and timer as instructed which would be activated once anyone entered the correct code into the keypad. It would kill the bitch and get rid of the last sample of the virus.

He’d taken the bio suits, dumping them in the trash, and left.

Now in the apartment, he checked his watch, then swept the contents of the girl’s jewellery box into his bag. Finally, he checked around, making sure he had everything worth taking.

‘What?’

‘Jesus Christ,’ Archer said, shaking his head, leaning back. ‘How the hell did we miss this? We had the guy in handcuffs and we let him go.’

‘Miss what?’ Shepherd said.

‘There are two Sways. They’re brothers. That’s their cover. That’s how Finn Sway said he couldn’t have planted that bomb at the club. That’s how the guy at the coffee shop saw him at the exact same time and how this man says he was in here just afterwards. Sway was the shooter. His brother was at the Starbucks pretending to be him. Then he came here and rigged up the lab.’

The team looked at him and realised how they’d been duped.

‘Jesus Christ,’ Shepherd said.

‘How was this not on the file?’ Marquez asked.

‘Roller only has a small-town local PD,’ Archer said. ‘You saw his jacket. He came from a broken home. He could have ten brothers and sisters for all we know.’

‘We need to get them both before they leave the city,’ Josh said.

Shepherd pulled his phone, pushing
Redial
.

‘Rach?’ he said. ‘Listen. Pull up footage from outside Tonic around 2215. The
East 29
th
Street
camera will show Finn Sway. I want you to run clothing rec on him as fast as you can.’

He waited. A few moments later, Rach came back.

‘Go on,’ Shepherd said, listening closely. A few moments pause. Then he started for the door, ending the call. ‘One of the two Sways entered an apartment building off 35
th
and 8
th
four minutes ago.’

The entire team ran out of the building and headed for their cars. Dr Kruger had just arrived, stepping out of a taxi, the detective assigned to protect him joining him on the sidewalk. Kruger had changed his clothes, the blood-stained blue shirt replaced by a sweater, brown jacket and fresh jeans. He paid the fare, then slammed the door. ‘What’s going on?’

‘In the car, doc,’ Shepherd said. ‘You’re coming with us.’

Reese Sway had just completed a final sweep of the apartment when he heard a series of cars pull up on the street below. The soft squeal of tyres and sudden killing of engines were giveaways. He ran to the bedroom window and saw people piling out of black 4x4 vehicles and run into the building. Panicking, he zipped up the bag of stolen valuables then ran into the den. The girl’s husband kept a weapon in the apartment, a pistol hidden behind some books. He grabbed the gun and a loaded magazine beside it then slammed the clip into the weapon and racked the slide. He ran to the door, rushing outside into the corridor.

Below, he heard the lower door to the stairwell open and the sound of feet pounding up the stairs.

He was trapped.

Turning, he ran up the stairwell, taking the stairs two at a time.

Archer, Shepherd and Josh were taking the stairs, Marquez and Jorgensen the lift. They’d heard movement above them and the sound of someone running up the stairwell. The three men took off up the stairs, taking them two at a time, when they heard the sound of a door being smashed open several flights above them.

Josh was the first to arrive at the already open door. It was the entrance to the roof.

He pushed it back and immediately there was a gunshot. Josh was thumped back as several more shots thudded into the door where he’d been standing.

Archer and Shepherd ducked back to avoid being hit as the lift opened behind them, Marquez and Jorgensen running out. Drawing their side-arms, Marquez, Jorgensen and Shepherd moved forward to the doorway as Archer dropped to one knee, helping Josh to the ground. He'd taken the round in the upper arm.

Archer clamped his hands either side of the wound as Josh grimaced.

‘Shit,’
he said through gritted teeth. ‘This must feel like déjà vu for you.’

On the roof, the three cops took cover as Reese fired again, the gunshots echoing off the buildings all around them. He’d put one of them down. Keeping up the fire, he turned and ran towards the edge of the building. He stopped short and looked around, desperately looking for a way to escape. But the gap between this roof and the next was twenty feet. He couldn’t make it. He was trapped.

‘Put your hands up!'
a voice bellowed.

Shepherd, Marquez and Jorgensen had him triangulated, three sights of three pistols trained on his head.

Sway had his back turned, looking out over the roof of the adjacent building.

'Drop the weapon!'
Shepherd shouted.
'It's over, kid.'

Sway suddenly spun around.

He had his pistol sweeping up, aiming for Marquez who was the first one in the arc to his right.

Shepherd had no choice. Threaten his team, and he’d take you out in a heartbeat. He fired once. Not like the movies, where they aimed for the leg or a flesh wound. Sway had a weapon and had already shot Josh. That meant he needed to go down hard. The bullet hit Sway in the upper chest, the force punching him backwards. He dropped the pistol, which clattered onto the roof beside him, and fell back onto the edge of the rooftop, his back arched over the wall.

Keeping their weapons trained on him, Shepherd, Marquez and Jorgensen moved forward.

Sway was panting, his chest heaving up and down, a growing patch of blood staining the front of his sweater from the gunshot wound. Up close they could see that he wasn’t Finn Sway, although the resemblance was very strong. This guy was younger. The trio all watched him then lowered their weapons. The kid wasn’t a threat anymore. He was on his way out.

The young man managed to lift his head and looked down at the wound, his eyes confused. Then he looked up at Shepherd, the man who shot him. The guy was young. Barely a man. A younger Finn Sway. They were even wearing the same outfit.

The younger Sway grimaced, the heaving in his chest decreasing.

Then his head lolled to the side and his breathing stopped altogether.

Fifteen minutes later Josh was being loaded into an ambulance on a frame back down on the street. Luckily they were only a few blocks from
Roosevelt
Hospital
and a medical team had arrived fast. Josh had taken the round in the upper arm; the ambulance team said he was going to be fine but they needed to get him into surgery and extract the bullet immediately. They finished locking him in place in the back and were feeding him oxygen.

Standing by the rear doors, Archer and Marquez watched. Lying on the bed, medics working either side of him, Josh saw the two detectives and lifted the hand of his good arm. They raised theirs back in acknowledgement as the doors were pulled shut from the inside. Then the ambulance sped off on its way to the hospital.

Watching it go, Archer turned and saw Shepherd standing alone near the entrance of the building. The street was pretty busy around him but he’d tuned it all out, lost in his own thoughts. They’d just wheeled out Sway’s body-bag and were taking it to the morgue in a separate ambulance. His prints had already been taken and a match had come back from Charlotte-Mecklenburg PD. The kid’s name was Reese Sway, no middle name. Finn Sway’s younger brother. He’d been charged for vagrancy and theft but had never served time. Watching Shepherd, Archer heard Josh’s voice in his mind.
Hell of a thing. Man tries to defend his home, ends up killing his own son.
Reese Sway had been young. Archer could imagine the memories pulling the trigger had stirred up. He stepped his way through the assembled throng of police and onlookers, and approached Shepherd.

‘Josh is on his way,’ Archer said. ‘He’s going to be fine.’

‘Great.’

Archer saw the look on his face. 'You had no choice, sir.’

'There's always a choice.' Shepherd shook his head angrily. 'Stupid kid.'

'He tried to kill Josh. He tried to kill the doctor and me at the lab. He wasn't a kid.'

Jorgensen walked over. Shepherd saw him approaching.

‘Where are we with Finn Sway?’ he asked.

‘Rach can’t find him in the city,’ Jorgensen said. ‘But taxi and bus services have been informed as well as State borders. Dispatch is putting out his description. We’ll find him.'

Behind Jorgensen some news teams had just pitched up, hoping for a scoop after a headline-packed day. Shepherd glanced at them. 'I’m going to put the word out. Let’s get every New Yorker searching for this scumbag.’

The two detectives nodded. Shepherd rose and stepped towards to the waiting press, thinking of the dead boy.

Stupid kid.

Eleven miles to the west, Finn Sway had just arrived at
Kearny Medical
in
New Jersey
having taken a taxi. He’d considered using one of the cars left in the parking lot from the dead scientists upstairs, but decided he didn’t need the hassle and wanted to be able to jump into a vehicle at a moment’s notice. He stepped out and shut the door, paid the fare, then watched the guy leave. When the car was gone, Finn walked over to the lab complex and pulled open the door.

Rourke was standing inside behind the reception desk. Wicks and Drexler were sitting across the lobby, talking. All three of them turned and looked at Finn as he walked in.

‘Jacobs is dead,’ Finn said. ‘It was a set-up.’

Rourke nodded. ‘I heard.’

‘You finished?’

Rourke nodded again, slowly. ‘Van’s loaded. I’ll be done upstairs in a few minutes.’

‘We need to get out of here right now,’ said Finn. He suddenly paused and looked at Rourke.
‘What’s up with you?’

Rourke didn’t answer. Finn looked around.

‘Where the hell is Reese?’

Rourke glanced over his shoulder. From where he was standing, Finn could see an
NY ONE
report playing on the screen. The sound was low, but he could make out what the reporter was saying.
‘…were given no option but to shoot. The deceased has been officially named as Reese Sway.’
Finn froze. The shot flipped to a dark-haired cop standing on the street, flashing lights and a lot of activity behind him.
Sergeant Matt Shepherd, NYPD Counter Terrorism Bureau
was on the text block below. He started speaking to the reporter.

‘We cornered the man. I ordered him to drop his weapon but he ignored me and was about to shoot another of my detectives. We are still looking for another man, the deceased’s brother, Finn Sway. We ask all city residents to keep a lookout for this man and to report any sightings immediately.’

Finn’s prison mug-shot appeared on the screen.

‘I’m sorry,’ Rourke said.

Finn ignored him. He kept staring at the screen instead. At the image of the man who had killed his brother.

‘That son of a bitch,’ he said quietly. ‘I saw that asshole earlier. He had me in handcuffs.’

‘Stay cool. We need to get the hell out of here now.’

‘Sergeant Matt Shepherd,’ Finn Sway repeated to himself quietly, ignoring Rourke
.
He turned and pointed at a computer on the desk in front of Rourke. 'Search him.'

Rourke looked at him for a moment, then decided not to argue and pulled up Google, typing in the man’s name.

Finn moved around the counter and watched the screen as Rourke scrolled down.

'Wait,’ he said, pointing at one of the first links. ‘Here.'

It was a small acknowledgement from the
New York Post
. Rourke clicked on it.

‘
Hoboken High School wishes to acknowledge the generous donation to the new music department from Sergeant Matt Shepherd and his wife Beth in memory of their son Ricky Shepherd, who was recently killed in a tragic accident.’

It continued onto a second paragraph and Finn struck gold.

It gave the family’s home address.

Without another word, Finn grabbed a pad and scribbled it down, tearing the sheet off the page and stuffing it in his pocket. Then he pulled Rourke's modified Glock from the holster on his hip and turned to Wicks. 'Keys.'