by Robb, J. D.
“Then they can keep moving, keep jamming, keep shutting down while the backup comes in behind them.”
“That would be your part of it to calculate.”
“And I can do that.”
“This doesn’t factor patrols.”
“I’ll have that handled, keep going.”
“Each building will have locks, and those require yet another series of codes.”
“Okay.”
“As you’d expect, both the prison and the main house have more layers.”
She nodded, as she had expected. “Top e-man on the prison, you and me on the main house. It’s going to take more than an hour, closer to two to shut it down, and to move in the takedown teams.”
“I’m going to work on that, but I doubt we can do it all in less than an hour or seventy-five minutes.”
“Slow and steady’s fine with me. The main house is going to be one of the last to shut down the way it’s situated. But by then, we’ll have backup. We go in, and now the takedown teams pour in. I can see how I can work it.”
She considered. “When all law enforcement’s inside, can you reactivate the wall?”
“That would be the easy part.”
“Good. Ants can’t scatter if they can’t get out of the hill. And here’s another question.”
She asked, rejected, accepted. He refined; she fleshed out.
And when she felt she had it solid, she went to her commander, coordinated with Abernathy, then with Teasdale, then with Reo.
20
With Roarke back in EDD, working out any kinks with Feeney, she sat down at her desk to think, to pick at any flaws.
Boots up, coffee in hand, she flipped through the various stages of her many-pronged operation on her wall screen.
Baxter tapped on her doorjamb. “Want good news, boss?”
Since he carried evidence bags in his hands, Eve swung her boots off the desk. “Have you got something in there that nails Mirium Wilkey to Ariel Byrd’s murder?”
“How about three nails, like motive, means, opportunity?”
“Those work. Let’s have it.”
He set the bags on her desk. “Can I get in on that?” he asked, and gestured to her coffee.
“Go.” She rose, unsealed the first bag.
“Trueheart’s writing it up, but I figured you’d want to see this part of it. That’s a copy of recordings we found on the comp in her home office. Audio and video. They go back ten months, and some of them are, we’ll say, intimate. My young partner may have a permanent blush.”
“From Gwen Huffman’s phone.”
“She labeled them, date, time, content—very organized. We got recordings of the originals for the record, since we couldn’t bring anything in. The last one’s dated the night of Byrd’s murder. It’s got the romance, the sex, the texts from Merit Caine, and the ensuing argument—pretty heated—between Byrd and Huffman. You’ve got Huffman storming out, and subsequently calling for a Rapid to pick her up. Pickup a couple blocks from Byrd’s residence.”
Since he’d previously experienced the bite of her visitor’s chair, he stood and drank his coffee.
“She wiped her security feed for the night in question, from twenty-two hundred to twenty-three-forty-five.”
“Covering her leaving to kill Byrd, returning to clean herself up, then leaving again to get to the compound for cover. We need EDD on that.”
“Done. Trueheart took the original disc straight up. We had to risk she wouldn’t look at that if she goes back to that location.”
“That’s the right call. Feeney will find the wiped data.”
“She kept the key card, LT. We left it, but recorded it. She had it in her desk drawer. We found data on Byrd on her comp—copied that, disc in the next bag. Her background, her financials, her contacts. And a recording of Byrd’s apartment, inside, room by room.”
“She plans. Wanted to study the space in case.”
“Dallas, it looks to me like she was working out a way to snatch Byrd up, transport her to Realignment.”
“Huh. Sure, of course she was. Money in the bank.”
“It looks like she planned to keep Byrd on the island. There’s a lot more in the other bags on Natural Order, procedure, finances. And financially, we probably need an accountant but it looks to me like they’re not exactly hemorrhaging money, but they’re oozing it.”
Eve nodded. “Jibes with Roarke’s take.”
“And Mirium felt the same. She’s got calculations on how to generate more income. Gwen Huffman’s a big factor—blackmail.”
He raised his eyebrows. “I’m not telling you anything you hadn’t figured there.”
“It’s money. It’s planning for the next stage. Blackmail’s more insurance.”
“Then there’s the senior Huffmans—and she has a copy of their will. She’s got documentation on her recruitment angles, names, locations. She pins Po and a Michael J. Harstead at the halfway house as feeders. And there’s a Denise Wexford at the Good Samaritan Shelter as another of her feeders.”
“We’ll pick them up, all of them. A few hours yet, but we’ll get them all.”
“On the family front? She’s got files on her brothers. Evidence the older one dips into the membership fund, and the next one has a taste for LCs. She calls the youngest one Mommy’s Fake Boy, so she knows he’s her half brother, and she’s stockpiling evidence he’s gay.”
“She’s planning. Laying groundwork for a coup.”
“She’s got a supply of sleep meds. Heavy meds, liquid form, big supply. All prescribed by Oliver Huffman.”
“Recruitment tool.”
“Fuckers.”
“Yeah, we’ve got the fuckers, Baxter.”
He glanced at her screen and the display of the compound with its hot spots. “We’re going tonight?”
“We’re going tonight. I’m going to take our end of the op for a spin in a holoroom, just tighten it up where I can. Be ready.”
“Oh, born that way, Loo.”
21
She took her spin, programmed in the other teams, the backups, the takedown, the timing. By scaling Roarke’s four-minute lag to four seconds, she could run it through quickly—then have the computer calculate reality time.
She ordered and reordered priorities on each run-through.
Satisfied she’d closed any apparent holes, she briefed Whitney, and with his go, pulled in Lowenbaum and his SWAT team to handle Tribeca.
The first phase.
With Lowenbaum, she worked on the timing and movements of that area of the operation.
“A lot of kids, Lowenbaum.”
He nodded as they stood in the mock-up holo of the block. She’d programmed the names of the residents and number of minors on each house.
“Understood. We’ll have the Child Services reps you selected behind the line, and we’ll get the kids to safety. You’re sure about those reps?”
“I got them from the head of An Didean. Rochelle’s solid, and she’s worked with these three people. Some of the women on the block will be like the two we have at Dochas, and some will be like Barbara Poole. Even the ones who don’t want to be there may resist or run. Some may not be able to run if they have the shockers on, or their kids do.”
With Eve, Lowenbaum walked up and down the holo block.
“We’ve got the neutralizing device Roarke built us for that, Dallas. You’ve done all the work till now, even listing the target houses by probability of resistance. We’ll handle the rest.”
“Any adult males, if there, must be separated and contained. Some may have weapons, most will likely have comms. My data indicates most if not all of the male residents should be in the compound tonight. But—”
He looked at her. “Trust me and mine.”
“You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. I’ve got to get you on this because of the possibility of communication. That block needs to be shut down before we move on the rest.”
As they’d worked together b
efore, he knew her mindset. “And you’re wishing like hell you could be two places at once so you could be on this takedown while you’re here coordinating the next.”
“Make that about ten places at once.” Then she hissed out a breath. “We’ve got the best people, top cops on every one of the ops. So … letting go, Lowenbaum. Good hunting.”
“Same to you. I’ll keep you in the loop all the way.”
She checked the time when he left. Shutting down the holo, she started back to the conference room.
She found Peabody and Roarke already setting up.
“You beat me to it.”
“You’ve been doing about six dozen things at once,” Peabody said. “I figured I could get this going—with a little help.”
“Appreciate it.” She frowned at the device Roarke attached to the comp. “What’s that?”
“A portable holo.”
“We have one of those?”
“I had it brought in.”
Hell, she thought, it was only Peabody in there. So she walked to Roarke, wrapped her arms around him for one precious moment. And stepped back when Peabody said, “Aw.”
“Keep your aws to yourself. Lowenbaum and his team are heading out now. We’ve got FBI sitting just beyond the compound. Anyone comes out, they pick them up.”
She started to rub her eyes, but since they felt like sandpaper, dropped her hands again. “We’ve got teams ready to pick up the Huff-mans, Po, Harstead, Wexford, and others. We pulled from Special Victims, and I brought in Detective Strong and her partner from Illegals for those busts.”
She paused when Roarke handed her a glass. “What’s this?”
“It’s a protein drink—and it’s chocolate. Don’t bitch about it.”
“Fine. Rochelle gave me names of CPS reps she knows and vouches for. They’re with Lowenbaum. I’ve got more supporting the hit on HQ.”
“Dochas is prepared to take any women and children who need sheltering.”
She glanced back at Roarke. “Do they have room? There could be a lot.”
“They’ll make room. And when and if necessary, arrangements with other safe houses. Leave that one to them. Moira knows the system, and they’ll work it.”
“Okay, fine.” She drank without thinking about it, then had to admit: Not half-bad. “Abernathy swears their teams are solid. They’ll have air and sea support, and they’ve agreed to hold until I give them the green. Same with the FBI on the farm team.”
Now she paced and drank. “That’s more problematic. It involves multiple states and locations, and it’s so spread out. Lots of open land. Air support there, too, but … We won’t get all of them. Odds are low we’ll get them all.”
“And they’ll be running with, basically, the shirts on their backs,” Roarke reminded her. “ ‘Things fall apart; the center cannot hold.’ That’s Yeats, and applies to this. There’ll be no center, Eve. And the order falls apart.”
But he went to her. “It’s hard to have other people take control of what you can’t do.”
“Solid cops.”
“Remember that. And here come some of your own.”
Those solid cops filed in, and Jenkinson and his tie came directly to her. He held out a hand.
Baffled, she shook it. “Okay, what for?”
“Whitney stopped by the bullpen to tell us you’d put in commendations—for every one of us who worked on Cobbe. It matters, Lieutenant.”
“You earned it, Detective.”
“It matters,” he repeated, and went to take a seat.
“It really does,” Peabody added. “Thanks.”
“Just take that happy energy into this briefing and beyond. Can you work the holo thing?”
“Well …”
“I’ve got it.” Roarke gave Peabody a pat on the shoulder. “It won’t, obviously, be full-size,” he told Eve. “But it will be to scale. And since he’s here, we’ll have McNab run the screen.”
“That’ll work. I’m going to—”
She snapped to attention. “Chief.”
Chief of Police Tibble came in with Whitney. Tall and lean in his dark suit, he crossed to her. “I’m here to observe, Lieutenant, and offer any and all assistance as needed. I’ll be joining this operation.”
His lips curved, just a little, as her face went instantly blank. “Outside the compound, with the commander, APA Reo, and other support.”
“Your support and assistance is very much appreciated, sir.”
“As long as I don’t get in the way,” he finished. “I’ve studied your operational plans, Lieutenant. Very bold, very thorough. Let’s make them work.”
Like Jenkinson, he walked away to take a seat.
Eve spotted Mira. “Jesus Christ, don’t tell me you’re planning to go on this?”
“Of course. Some of the prisoners may require immediate evaluation, medically and emotionally.” She patted Eve’s arm. “I’ll be well out of the way until needed.”
Let it go, she told herself. Let it all go but this.
She waited for Teasdale, Conroy, Reo, Reo’s boss, and all the others.
And realized too late she still had the room’s AC on her menu. Coffee flowed like a rich, dark river.
“Sit or stand, but be quiet. Inspectors Abernathy and Jonas, Interpol, are on speaker, as are Special Agents Clyburn, Reese, Monica, Rosen-croft, and Paulson, FBI. We’ll coordinate with them on every step.
“Lieutenant Lowenbaum and his unit are even now converging on the block in Tribeca, while Special Agent Teasdale has agents outside the compound in Connecticut to pick up anyone who leaves. This will cut off any opportunity for communication back to the HQ, the island, the farm system, or the subjects who will be picked up in New York and elsewhere.
“This is a major and multipronged operation. We’re going to take it step-by-step.”
She started with Strong and the other detectives on the busts, and the search teams who would follow up at those locations. She had Interpol and the FBI brief on their areas.
And stepped away to answer her comm.
She stepped back in as they wound it up.
“Thank you. The first stage, Tribeca, is complete. The block and its residents are contained.” She’d expected the cheer—she felt one inside herself—and let it ride.
Teasdale lifted a hand. “Two male individuals have been detained after leaving the compound. They are being transported for questioning to FBI headquarters.”
“So far, so good. Here’s what we’ve got coming up. Roarke?”
The holo of the compound spread at Eve’s feet, and got a lot of murmurs.
“Nice.” Feeney grinned at it and slurped his coffee.
“McNab, on-screen.”
She picked up her laser pointer. “We’ll breach the walls at these locations. One team, consisting of an e-cop and a detective or uniform, at each. Roarke and I go at the gate, and if successful, I’ll give the go to the other breach teams. Each e-cop will carry a hand device, which, when the code is engaged, will shut down the security system for an area of fifteen feet—not a millimeter more or the system goes on alert. It will take four minutes before the code can be resent for the next fifteen feet.”
“It’s down to two minutes, ten seconds,” Roarke told her.
“Two minutes, ten.”
And she ran them through every step, assigned teams to the breach points, to the backup, to the specific targets and takedowns.
“When we hit the targets, Captain Feeney will jam the comms and open the gate. We can’t risk doing this until we’re inside and in position. When he jams the comms, Interpol and the FBI get the green. The teams in New York, and elsewhere, hit their targets.”
It would work, she thought. Timed right, it would all work.
“No one who is not on breach, backup, or takedown teams enters the compound until it’s secure and contained. Exception for medical personnel if needed.
“I want anyone held in what we believe is a prison freed and taken to safe
ty. I want you to look at this face. McNab, bring up Foxx. Ella Alice Foxx, who risked a hell of a lot passing me a message. They abducted her, they have most certainly tortured her, she is being held against her will. Remember her face. Remember there will be others like her.
“Questions?”
There were a lot of them. She answered, or lobbed to Feeney or Teasdale or Reo.
When the questions tapered off, she wound it up.
“Everyone—and that includes those who remain outside the compound during this operation—will wear vests. Everyone going in wears black, will have night-vision goggles. Everyone will have earbud comms and recorders. Every step of this is on record. As I said before, we don’t know how many weapons may be inside. We don’t yet know if they have armed foot patrols, human or droid. Stunners on medium for quick incapacitation. You’re going to be fucking stealthy.”
She checked her watch. “Compound teams, meet on Garage Level One at twenty-three-thirty. Be equipped, be geared up, be ready. Meanwhile, get some rack time if you can. Dismissed.”
Shelby hurried to her. “You put me on the backup team on HQ.”
“That’s right. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No, sir!” She actually snapped to attention. “I didn’t expect, with my limited time in this division, to be part of this operation. Thank you, Lieutenant.”
“Don’t screw up and you’ll be fine.”
“That’ll be my mantra. I have a question, sir, I didn’t want to ask before.”
“Go.”
“Do you think Gwen knew all this? I mean about the human trafficking, the torture, the rapes, the slavery?”
“She experienced some of the torture herself. Yeah, she knows. Nothing matters to her but her own comfort and position. We probably can’t prove it, but she knows.”
“I never would’ve thought that of her. I don’t really know her anymore, but—Thank you, Lieutenant.”
“Grab a little downtime. And stay sharp.”
“Is that what you’re going to do?” Roarke asked as the room emptied. “Grab some downtime?”
“I’ve got too many irons in the fire for that. And why did I say that?” Baffled, she dragged a hand through her hair. “Why would anybody put irons in a fire?”
