Massacre

by Steven Henry

  “Do you? Like her?”

  “Hell, no. I hate her guts. And she hates mine. But that’s not the point. She could be Adolf Hitler, I’d still try to bring her in alive.”

  “Hitler? Really?”

  “Okay, maybe not Hitler. But anyone else.”

  “This is a moot point,” he said. “Unless you can find her.”

  “I know,” Erin sighed. “I’ve got one card I can play. But I don’t want to play it.”

  He shrugged. “Then she walks. Or maybe catches a bullet.”

  “I know!” she said again, more sharply.

  Vic held up a hand. “Okay, okay. Sheesh. Drink your coffee. You’re less touchy when you’re caffeinated.”

  “Did you find anything about Johnson?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “He’s staying at the Hilton by JFK.”

  “I arrested a guy there once.”

  “Without a court order, I can’t access his phone records,” Vic continued. “But I made a couple calls, talked to the hospital. He definitely talked to Rojas.”

  “Sean wasn’t supposed to let him in before morning,” Erin muttered angrily.

  “They’re Homeland Security, Erin. They get in places.”

  “Their whole job is keeping people out!”

  “Anyway, it’s possible Rojas could’ve given him a way to contact the cartel guys,” Vic said. “No way to know for sure.”

  “Okay. Thanks for checking.” Erin finished her coffee and started for the door.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “To play that last card.”

  “You want me to come with you?”

  “It’s best if you don’t.”

  “Okay. But tell your partner there, if you get capped on his watch, I’m gonna make him into a pair of mittens.”

  Rolf gave him a look that said he was welcome to try.

  Erin sat in the driver’s seat of her Charger, staring at her phone. She didn’t want to do this. It was crossing a very definite line, and there was no going back from it. This might get the man she loved killed.

  But they’d always known this might happen. It was the price they had to pay. And Erin O’Reilly had been brought up to make good on her debts. She dialed.

  “Evening, darling,” Carlyle said. She heard the background noise of the Barley Corner, the usual hubbub of sports TV and inebriated Irishmen. She also heard the tension she’d learned to recognize under his calm, pleasant voice. She wondered whether any of them had been truly relaxed in days.

  “You heard about Twitchy and Maginty?” she asked.

  “Aye. I’ve also heard your lads collected Lonnie Burke. He’s still breathing, I trust?”

  “Yeah, he’s fine. I’ve got a couple guys I trust watching him. Look, can we go somewhere and talk?”

  “I’d love to, darling, but I’ve a wee situation here.”

  “What sort of situation?” She tensed, imagining all the things that could go wrong in Carlyle’s world. If he was able to answer the phone, she reasoned, it couldn’t be all that bad.

  “A couple of lads came in a short while ago. Out-of-towners, I’m thinking. I don’t much like the looks of them.”

  Erin considered the sort of clientele Carlyle was accustomed to, and tried to imagine what kind of guys he’d find alarming. It wasn’t a pretty mental picture.

  “Are they doing anything?”

  “At the moment, they’re sitting down the far end of the bar, drinking cocktails. Tequila with ginger ale and bitters, unless I’m mistaken.”

  “Carlyle, I don’t give a damn what they’re drinking.” She started the car. “I can be there in five minutes, maybe less.”

  “Don’t do it, darling. If I’ve any eye for this business, they’re watching and waiting for something. If they’re startled, there’s likely to be some unpleasantness.”

  “These guys, do they look South American?”

  “Aye, they might well be.”

  Erin took a deep breath and plunged. “They’re looking for Siobhan.”

  “You’re certain of that?” His voice sharpened.

  “Yeah. When did they show up?”

  “Just a few minutes ago. Darling, why would they be seeking her out?”

  She closed her eyes, the car still sitting in its parking space. “She was the shooter in back of the restaurant. She killed Conti and his bodyguards.”

  Carlyle was silent for a very long moment.

  “Did you hear me?” she asked.

  “Aye.”

  “Say something.”

  “What exactly do you want me to say, Erin? She’s my daughter.” There was real, genuine pain in his voice. But he didn’t sound surprised by the revelation. On some level, Erin supposed, he’d known what Siobhan was for a long time.

  “They’re going to kill her,” Erin said.

  “No,” Carlyle said with cold certainty. “They’re not.”

  “Carlyle, stop,” she said. “I know you’ve got guys who’ll do this for you, but think, damn it! If Ian, or Corky, or you start blowing holes in people, then you go down, too. I can’t protect you from that. Don’t make me cuff Ian. Or you.”

  “Then I’m not precisely clear on my course of action.”

  “Oh, shit,” Erin said, realizing the trap Carlyle was in. “Siobhan’s there right now. At the Corner. Is she upstairs?”

  He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll have two dozen uniforms there inside two minutes. Sit tight. These guys won’t try to fight the whole NYPD.”

  “You’re certain of that?”

  She wasn’t. “There’s just two of them,” she said. “If we go in fast and hard, we can have them in custody before anyone gets hurt.”

  “Assuming the two at the bar are the only ones about,” he said. “Who’s to say they don’t have a spotter on the street?”

  Erin saw the situation. It was a weird kind of hostage setup. At least two gunmen, probably armed with sawed-off shotguns or automatic weapons, in a confined, crowded space. They were looking for a specific target, but she knew they were perfectly willing to shoot at cops. Two officers were already in the hospital, and it was only due to quick reactions and good luck they weren’t in the morgue. Erin wasn’t going to lose another officer. Not on her watch.

  “Okay,” she said, trying to think. “What if we just wait them out? They can’t stay in the bar after closing time.”

  “I rather suspect they’ll make their move before then,” he said dryly. “I also suspect it’s me they’ll be going after in that case.”

  “Get out of there, damn it!”

  “Easier said than done,” he said with maddening coolness. “I’m avoiding eye contact with the lads, but I know they’re watching me. Once I get up to leave, I’ve no idea what they’ll do, but I doubt they’ll allow me to simply walk out.”

  “Siobhan needs to leave,” Erin said. “And they need to know she’s gone, but she can’t give them a shot at her.”

  “A grand strategy, Erin. I trust you’ve a plan to accomplish this?”

  “I’m working on it. Look, even if you could kill these guys, which you can’t, it won’t make a difference. They’ll just send more guys, and then they’ll be looking for you along with her.”

  “I’m aware of the nature of the business I’m in,” he said.

  “The only way this ends is with her in custody,” Erin said softly. “That’s the only way we can protect her.”

  “Don’t ask me to do that, Erin. Don’t.”

  “I’m asking you to save her life. And yours. Plus the rest of your people at the bar.”

  “And how are you planning on squaring this with my employer?”

  “Shit, I don’t know. One thing at a time. Let’s deal with the bad guys with guns first, okay?”

  “I look around, I’m seeing nothing but bad lads, Erin.”

  “The worse guys, then. Think about it, Carlyle. If we take Siobhan in, she’s got a
chance. She’ll get fair treatment and a fair trial. On the street, you know what her odds are better than I do. Let me help her.”

  “Don’t pretend you’re fond of her.”

  “No, I’m not,” Erin admitted. “But I love you, and you love her. I’ll protect her.”

  He was silent again, and she knew he was thinking fast and hard. Erin held her breath. She felt that her future with Carlyle hung on the moment. Either they’d find their way forward together, or they wouldn’t. And he knew it, too. It wasn’t fair for Erin to make him choose like this, but as her dad had told her more than once, life wasn’t fair.

  “If we’re to do this,” he said, “it’s to be my way or not at all.”

  Erin let out her breath. “Okay,” she said. “What’s the plan?”

  Chapter 15

  It wasn’t a great plan. In fact, Erin thought it was lousy. But what choice did they have? There was risk any way they turned. The worst of it was, she was still suspicious of the NYPD, so she didn’t know if it was a good idea to call in heavy reinforcements.

  She did call Webb.

  “O’Reilly,” he said. “Good to hear from you. I’ve been playing tag with you all night.”

  “And I’ve been chasing our bad guys,” she said. “I’ve finally caught up with them. Where are you, sir?”

  “At the Irish American Bar, cleaning up after the last round of mayhem. Where are you?”

  “I’m at the Eightball, but not for long. I’ve got to go scoop up some Colombians, and take Siobhan Finneran back into custody.”

  “Why her?”

  “She’s the fourth shooter.”

  “Can you make it stick this time?”

  “Sir, we may not have much time to discuss this. The cartel guys are after her, and they’re going to make their move soon.”

  “ESU is on alert,” Webb said. “I called them earlier, with all the shooting going on tonight. They’ve got the Apprehension Tactical Team standing by. Where are they going?”

  “Can you have them deployed quietly? Without going through normal channels?”

  There was a pause.

  “O’Reilly, I can’t make them do anything without going through channels,” he said. “What did you find out?”

  “Not enough. The more people we call, the more likely word gets to the cartel. Someone’s on their team; I don’t know who.”

  “How many bad guys?”

  “At least two. Maybe more.”

  “Where?”

  “The Barley Corner.”

  “Really.” Webb’s voice was flat, deadpan.

  “Of course they are,” she snapped, irritated. “They know Carlyle bailed Siobhan out. They figure he knows where she is.”

  “Where is she?”

  “They figured right. She’s there. So is Carlyle, and a hell of a lot of bystanders. If we go in heavy, there’s going to be shooting."

  “So we need ESU, but we need them at arm’s length.” Webb took a breath. “We need to take her outside. Okay, O’Reilly. I’ll call the A-Team unit commander directly, bypass the Captain. Holliday will tear me a new one if this goes sideways, so I hope you know what the hell you’re doing.”

  “I’ve talked to my source in the O’Malleys,” she said. “Siobhan’s going to go down the stairs and outside, fast. She knows guys are waiting for her at the bar. But they’ll be moving her down the back hallway, no civilians in the way. There’ll be an O’Malley car waiting for her on the street. We just need to be waiting outside. The Colombians will chase her. We can take them in the back alley, away from bystanders, hopefully with no shots fired. We grab Siobhan’s car on the street before she gets away.”

  “Is Neshenko with you?”

  “He’s upstairs.”

  “Get him and your dog. Tac up, full kit. I’ll meet you with the A-Team a block west of the Corner and coordinate. I don’t know how long it’ll take to move them, but it should be just a few minutes.”

  “Thanks, sir.”

  “Thank me in the morning, after we see how this plays out.”

  Erin still didn’t like the plan. It was too loose. Too many things could go wrong. Carlyle might betray them, but she didn’t think so. More likely, he’d make some modification to the plan on his own part. Or one of his guys would do something. Or the Colombians. Or Siobhan herself.

  At least Vic was in a good mood. The prospect of working with his old ESU buddies always perked him up. He was actually whistling as he climbed into Erin’s car.

  “Glad someone’s enjoying this,” she said.

  “Huh? Oh, I’m just looking forward to what I’m doing after the shift ends. Assuming this shift ever ends.”

  “Would this have anything to do with a blonde Street Narcotics cop, by any chance?”

  “Maybe.”

  “That means yes.”

  “You’re the big-shot Detective Second Grade, so I’ll have to take your word for it.”

  “When did you even have the chance to set this up?”

  “She called, while you were downstairs.”

  “Just do me a favor, Vic. Keep your mind in the game, so we all get to go home. Or wherever it is you’re going. I don’t imagine you’d take a girl back to your place.”

  “Erin, just where the hell do you think I live? I told you, it’s a studio apartment. It’s actually kind of nice.”

  “You said it was pretty much all man cave.”

  “Zofia likes manly stuff.”

  “Zofia?”

  “You were right, I needed to learn her first name.”

  “Is that with an S, or a Z?”

  “Z. I think it means ‘wisdom’ or something.”

  “You could use a little more wisdom in your life.”

  The Barley Corner wasn’t far from Precinct 8. They reached the rendezvous point, a block away. The ESU Apprehension Tactical Team had just arrived. Erin liked driving her Charger because of its full-throated power and aggressive front profile, but the A-Team’s ride made hers look tame. It was a Lenco BearCat, a wheeled armored vehicle that could take hits from a .50 caliber rifle and keep rolling. They’d pulled into an alley to avoid being too conspicuous while the team prepped for action.

  Erin parked and joined the other cops. She, Vic, and Rolf had already donned their body armor. Vic gave a firm handshake and a one-armed hug to one of the ESU guys.

  “Parker!” he said. “What’ve you been up to, man?”

  “Oh, you know,” Parker replied, feeding a clip into his AR-15, smacking the side of the gun, and chambering a round. “Same shit, different day.”

  Erin knew the Tactical Team was the busiest police unit in New York, probably in the country. They executed something like eight hundred operations each year. These guys kicked in doors every single day. This was just another job for them.

  Webb stood off to one side. To Erin’s surprise, she saw Piekarski there, too. Apparently she’d tagged along with Webb from the last crime scene. Erin glanced from the other woman to Vic, hoping to catch a sign of something, but both of them were in full professional mode and just nodded curtly to one another.

  Vic climbed into the BearCat and came out with a tactical helmet, which he strapped on. “You want one?” he asked Erin.

  “No, thanks. I’m not used to it; it’d mess up my field of vision.”

  “Suit yourself. A bullet in the face would mess it up more.”

  “I’m not planning on getting shot.”

  He smiled grimly. “No one ever is.”

  Erin did take a headset radio, however, and hooked up to the frequency the team would be using.

  “All right, listen up, everyone,” the ESU commander called. “As you know, some jackasses have been shooting up our city tonight. We’re going to take them down. We’ve got a tip there’s a couple of gunmen in the Barley Corner. That’s the bar up the street.”

  “Floor plan?” Parker asked.

  The commander shook his head. “According to Major Crimes,” he said jerking a thumb Webb�
��s direction, “we’re not making entry. They’re looking for a woman.”

  “Siobhan Finneran,” Erin said.

  “What’s this woman look like?” another cop asked.

  “A little taller than me, long red hair, drop-dead gorgeous,” Erin said.

  “I don’t know about you, boys, but I just made plans for after work,” he said.

  “She’s a contract killer for the Irish Mob,” Erin said, wiping the smirk off the man’s face. “She’s an exceptionally good shot, and you should assume she’s armed. She’s killed three people this week that we know of.”

  “So who’s our target? The gunmen, or the lady?” Parker asked.

  “Both,” Erin said. “Arrest everybody. And there may be more than two gunmen. It’s possible they have guys outside.”

  “How will we know when the operation’s on?” the commander asked.

  “I have a CI inside,” Erin said. “I’ll get a text when Finneran’s on the move. That’ll give you a few seconds’ warning. She’ll be coming out the back door, into the alley.”

  “Okay,” the commander said. “That alley has two exits. I want three guys at the north end. Parker, Hopper, Carnes, that’s you. No one gets out that way. The rest of you are with me. We don’t want this spilling into the street. I want a spotter across the street, under cover. Twig, that’s you.”

  “Copy,” said the smallest member of the team. “I’ll hook around, get to the roof on the far side. I’ll let you know when I’m in position.” He jogged across the street and vanished from view.

  “Once Twig gives us the call, we’ll bring in the Cat and block the exit,” the commander said.

  “There’ll be a vehicle there to pick Finneran up,” Erin said.

  The commander grinned. “Unless they’re driving a tank, we’ll get ‘em out of the way. Then we’ll have them all cold. Slap on the cuffs and we’re done.”

  “We think they’ve got a lookout on the street,” Erin said. “Won’t they spook if they see this thing hanging out?”

  “We’ll be around the corner,” the commander said. “Best we can do. I’m not risking the lives of my men if I don’t have to.”

  Erin chewed her lip and nodded. All around her, men were loading weapons and tightening straps on their gear. She didn’t feel like a cop in that moment. She felt like a soldier, getting ready to go to war. It wasn’t a good feeling.