by Ty Patterson
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Copyright © 2018 by Ty Patterson
All rights reserved
Wrecking Team is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced, or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Published by Three Aces Publishing
Visit the author site: http://www.typatterson.com
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Original Cover Design: Nathan Wampler
Books by Ty Patterson
Gemini Series
Dividing Zero, Gemini Series, Book 1
Defending Cain, Gemini Series, Book 2
I AM Missing, Gemini Series, Book 3
Wrecking Team, Gemini Series, Book 4
Warriors Series
The Warrior, Warriors series, Book 1
The Reluctant Warrior, Warriors series, Book 2
The Warrior Code, Warriors series, Book 3
The Warrior’s Debt, Warriors series, Book 4
Warriors series Boxset, Books 1-4
Flay, Warriors series, Book 5
Behind You, Warriors series, Book 6
Hunting You, Warriors series, Book 7
Zero, Warriors series, Book 8
Warriors series Boxset II, Books 5-8
Warriors series Boxset III, Books 1-8
Death Club, Warriors series, Book 9
Trigger Break, Warriors series, Book 10
Scorched Earth, Warriors series, Book 11
RUN! Warriors series, Book 12
Zeb Carter Series
Zeb Carter, Book 1
The Peace Killers, Book 2
Cade Stryker Series
The Last Gunfighter of Space, Book 1
The Thief Who Stole A Planet, Book 2
Warriors Series Shorts
This is a series of novellas that link to the Warriors Series thrillers
Zulu Hour, Warriors Series Shorts, Book 1
The Shadow, Warriors Series Shorts, Book 2
The Man From Congo, Warriors Series Shorts, Book 3
The Texan, Warriors Series Shorts, Book 4
The Heavies, Warriors Series Shorts, Book 5
The Cab Driver, Warriors Series Shorts, Book 6
Sign up to Ty Patterson’s mailing list and get The Watcher, a Zeb Carter novella, exclusive to newsletter subscribers. Join Ty Patterson’s Facebook group of readers, here
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Acknowledgments
No book is a single person’s product. I am privileged that Wrecking Team has benefited from the input of several great people.
Maria Stine, Shell Levy, Dori Barett, Allan Coulton, Shadine Mccallen, Toni Osborne, Linda Collins, Paula Artlip, Molly Birch, David T. Blake, Tracy Boulet, Patricia Burke, Mark Campbell, Tricia Cullerton, Claire Forgacs, Dave Davis, Sylvia Foster, Cary Lory Becker, Charlie Carrick, Pat Ellis, Dori Barrett, Simon Alphonso, Dave Davis, V. Elizabeth Perry, Ann Finn, Pete Bennett, Eric Blackburn, Margaret Harvey, David Hay, Jim Lambert, Suzanne Jackson Mickelson, Tricia Terry Pellman, Jimmy Smith, Theresa and Brad Werths, who are my beta readers and who helped shape my book, my launch team for supporting me, and Doreen Martens for her editing.
Special thanks to Deborah Brown for suggesting Nikolai’s name.
Dedications
To Michelle Rose Dunn, Debbie Bruns Gallant, Tom Gallant and Cheri Gerhardt, for supporting me.
She wasn’t looking for a knight, she was looking for a sword
— Atticus
Chapter One
Meghan Petersen left the vehicle at a run, timing her exit precisely so that she didn’t stumble, didn’t falter, didn’t fall.
Her ride’s speed wasn’t a problem. Times Square in broad daylight was packed with tourists who seemed to mill around aimlessly. A NASCAR track it wasn’t. Her SUV was crawling in the traffic.
Leaving the vehicle wasn’t a problem, either. Beth, her twin, had shifted over, a complicated maneuver that they had honed to perfection, the moment she had declared her intention.
People were the problem. She had to land just right. She had to evade a chattering, camera-carrying bunch of tourists the moment she set foot on the street. And then she had to leap onto the pavement and run towards her destination.
She accomplished all of that without any difficulty. Her jacket snagged on a car door that was opening, but a forward thrust of her shoulders freed it.
She zipped it up. It wouldn’t do for passersby to spot her holstered Glock. She looked beyond the bobbing heads around her and focused on the three heavies in the distance. They were fifty feet away, hustling towards a blonde who was unaware of their presence.
The goons moved easily, slipping through office workers, balletic grace to their movements.
Not your average gangbangers. These are the real deal. Mercenaries, probably. Maybe even special forces.
She cleared her mind as she sped through the crush of people, her feet landing smoothly, rolling, distributing her weight. She was narrowing her gaze, tunneling her vision to exclude the milling crowd and focus on the three heavies moving toward their target, the golden hair ahead.
Twisting her body sideways to squeeze through two men. Pivoting on a heel to swerve around a family.
Cutting the distance down to thirty feet. A muttered curse floating past her when her shoulder brushed another. A shout when she had to shove away a lumbering sightseer.
Twenty feet now. The heavies getting closer to the woman. A gap opened up ahead of her, and she took advantage before anyone else occupied it. Powering through, her calf muscles carrying her forward, ten feet now, and then she saw it. The concrete base of a lamp post. Rising from the ground to a couple of feet.
Perfect for her.
Another step forward, her weight on her left leg, her right reaching out, landing on the base. She pushed off it and flew several feet in the air.
Right leg coming up, straight and angled downwards. Left leg curled tightly. Arms stretched out, body bowed like
an arrowhead.
‘Shooter!’ she cried out, and the crowd scattered away at the magic words.
She flew straight at the nearest heavy, who was whirling around, his hand reaching beneath his jacket.
Chapter Two
It had all started with a meeting in Police Commissioner Bruce Rolando’s office, a week back.
‘Your investigation is going nowhere,’ the speaker growled at Rolando and detectives Pizaka and Chang. He was tall, in his fifties, dressed in an immaculate suit. Thick hair slicked back, his dark eyes glowering at the cops.
‘We are doing —’
‘It isn’t enough. My daughter has had three more attempts on her life while your cops are bumbling about.’
Pizaka furiously made to retort but fell silent when Rolando shook his head imperceptibly. There was no expression on the commissioner’s face. The speaker was Hiram Konstantin, a billionaire who owned companies, hotels, shipping lines, and real estate all over the world. He donated generously to the NYPD Foundation and played golf with the mayor.
‘Investigations take time,’ Rolando said mildly.
‘I don’t have time. I am going to hire my own detectives to look into this.’
‘Sir, your daughter is well-protected. We have teams assigned to her —’
‘Those attackers tried three times! She has her protection detail, your cops around her, and yet those heavies nearly got to her.’ Konstantin slammed a palm on a nearby table. ‘I’ve had enough. I want to hire the best investigators to look into who’s behind these attacks. Can you recommend any?’
Pizaka traded glances with his partner, Chang. Surely the commissioner wasn’t going to allow the billionaire to have his way.
‘I might know someone,’ Rolando replied smoothly. ‘They are sisters. Twins. Have you heard of Beth and Meghan Petersen?’
‘Are they investigators?’
‘They are a little more than that.’
All eyes swung towards Pizaka when a curious sound escaped him.
‘You know them?’ Konstantin raised an eyebrow.
‘Yes, sir.’ The detective composed himself and adopted his boss’s expressionless face. ‘The commissioner is right. The Petersen sisters aren’t ordinary investigators.’
‘What are they, then?’
‘You should meet them, sir, and see for yourself.’
‘Yes, sir, we’ll be there.’ Meghan ended the call and swiveled in her chair, lost in thought.
She and Beth were in their Columbus Avenue office. They weren’t the only occupants. Bwana and Roger were tossing a basketball at each other. Broker was in the corner, practicing his putts on a small golfing strip. Bear and Chloe were curled on a couch, reading. Zeb was spread out on another couch, his eyes closed.
There were no active missions for the Agency, the covert outfit they worked in, which was why all the operatives were in the city.
‘Who was that?’ Beth asked when her sister stayed silent, curling a twirl of hair around her fingers.
‘Commissioner Rolando.’
‘What did he want?’
‘We’re to meet someone, in his office.’
‘Who?’
‘Hiram Konstantin.’
‘The billionaire?’ Bwana cocked his head curiously.
‘Yeah.’
‘Why?’
‘The commissioner didn’t say.’
‘When?’
‘Right away.’
Bwana threw the ball back to Broker and grabbed his jacket.
‘Us,’ Meghan drawled as she and Beth headed to the elevator. ‘Not you.’
‘I’ll drive,’ Bwana offered. ‘I’ve always wanted to meet one of these rich cats.’
Hiram Konstantin inspected them silently when the twins entered Rolando’s office. Brown-haired, green-eyed, dressed casually in jeans and sneakers, jackets over tees, the sisters were hard to tell apart. Only the closest inspection showed their noses were slightly different. The billionaire’s eyebrows came together when Bwana followed them.
‘I thought they would be older,’ he told the commissioner when introductions were made, not caring that the sisters could hear him.
Beth turned towards the door and started leaving the office, her sister close behind.
‘Where are you going?’ Konstantin shouted.
‘You wanted someone older,’ Beth tossed back.
The billionaire stood, nonplussed. People scurried at his bidding. Stock markets rose or plunged at his statements. No one turned their backs on him.
‘I told you.’ Rolando didn’t conceal his satisfaction. ‘They aren’t ordinary investigators.’
Konstantin sighed and spread his hands in apology. ‘I am stressed. These attacks on Angie … let’s start again.’
The twins returned and seated themselves, at Rolando’s gesture. The commissioner on one side of his large desk, the sisters on the other side, and the billionaire in front of them. Bwana leaned against the wall, hands folded across his chest, a dark mountain next to Pizaka and Chang.
‘You know my daughter, Angie,’ the billionaire began.
‘We’ve heard of her,’ Beth replied evenly. Angie Konstantin was well known for her luxe lifestyle. She was CEO of one of her father’s companies, but that was a title in name only. She was a socialite, most often seen in the shopping districts and on the exotic beaches of the world.
‘Someone’s after her. There have been three attempts on her life so far. She and I have received several threats. I want to find out who’s behind those and why. I want them stopped.’
‘The commissioner’s got a good team, sir. We know those two.’ She bobbed her head at the two detectives. ‘They are two of the best cops in the city.’
A surprised look crossed Pizaka’s face. He and the sisters had an uneasy relationship. Compliments were rare. His chest puffed out involuntarily as he nodded in agreement. He was a great detective, no one could doubt it.
‘They will find the perps. You don’t need additional investigators, sir.’
‘Ms Petersen —’
‘Beth, sir.’
‘Beth, this isn’t up for discussion. I’m going to hire investigators and put an end to this. Commissioner Rolando says you are the best. I want to hire you.’
‘Sorry, sir. We aren’t for hire.’
Chapter Three
Hiram Konstantin looked at the twins in disbelief. No one turned him down. Ever. ‘Come again?’
‘We are not for hire, sir.’
The billionaire looked astonished. ‘Is it about money? You know who I am. You will be very well rewarded.’
‘Sir,’ Beth answered him patiently. ‘We work in a security consulting firm. We are well paid. We don’t take on side gigs for money.’
Konstantin looked at Rolando for help. In his world, everyone had a price. He hadn’t come across anyone who would turn down one of his offers. The commissioner offered no support. His detectives had bland expressions on their faces.
‘There’s the small matter that by hiring us, you’ll want to control us,’ Meghan broke the silence. ‘When we take on such cases, we are in charge. We report to no one.’ She held a finger up to forestall the billionaire’s protest. ‘We will keep stakeholders informed of progress, but they don’t call the shots. We know of your reputation. You are a control freak. We don’t work with such people.’
Konstantin’s face darkened. ‘You think a lot of yourself, don’t you? You aren’t the only detectives in town.’
‘We aren’t, sir.’ And with that the twins rose and turned to the door.
They were almost out when he sighed. ‘Wait. How can I get you to help?’
Meghan flashed a look at her sister, reading her thoughts. They didn’t need to take this case. However, there had been that look on the commissioner’s face. Bruce Rolando was a good friend. He wouldn’t have called us if he didn’t want us to help. Konstantin is important to the NYPD.
‘We have a few conditions,’ Meghan said crisply, walking b
ack towards the billionaire. ‘We are in charge. You don’t question our methods. Ever. You don’t ask why or how. You don’t tell us what to do. You don’t call us every minute. We’ll call you and give you updates, if there are any.’
‘Agreed,’ Konstantin said instantly.
‘We’ll need to check out the protection detail, see how good they are. We’ll replace them if we need to.’
‘They are good men. Hand-picked. Angie gets along with them well,’ the billionaire protested.
‘This isn’t a negotiation, sir.’
Konstantin nodded stiffly. ‘I will inform them.’
‘Not until we tell you to. Your daughter — she has to do what we say. We dictate her life till this is cleared up.’
He broke away from their gazes and looked into the distance. Came back to them. ‘She’s … why don’t you meet her and discuss this with her?’
That’s what we were planning to do.
‘Yes.’
‘Why us?’ Beth asked. ‘Like you said, there are enough PIs out there. What changed your mind?’
A smile ghosted across Konstantin’s face. ‘No one’s turned me down before. That sets you apart.’
His face turned serious. ‘There’s a condition of my own. You’ll meet my daughter here. In the commissioner’s office.’
‘Why?’ Beth leaned forward curiously, noting the surprised look on the commissioner’s face.
‘My daughter … she’s got a mind of her own.’
‘We’ve heard that.’
He looked at her sharply, but her face was unreadable, as was Meghan’s.
