Operation:UNITY (John Steel series Book 2)
Page 15
“Okay, okay,” the brute said, nursing his wrist. “We were sent to get rid of the lady and whoever she was meeting. I swear, that’s all I know.”
Steel sensed he was telling the truth. “Who’s your handler? Who gives you instructions?”
The mercenary stood up straight and pointed to a black tactical bag in the corner. The moment before he turned his head to look, Steel noticed a small red dot creep up the man’s vest. He screamed for the mercenary to get down, but it was too late. The window exploded, as did the mercenary’s head. Steel watched in horror as the side of his head disappeared, and the wall beside him turned a deep red colour, stained by the contents of his skull. Arterial spray surged upwards from the wound, painting the wall and ceiling a deep crin.
Steel dropped to the ground for cover and crawled for the bag. He looked over at the corpse of the mercenary, who now lay on his side. His lifeless eyes seemed to stare into nothingness. A blood pool began to form as the red ooze quickly spread across the wooden boarding. John Steel picked up the bag and ran out, remembering to take the magazine he’d used as a weapon with him.
Down below Steel could hear the police tactical teams moving up the stairs. The roof was not an option, as he knew they would have that covered. His only chance of getting out was from one of the adjoining buildings. He made his way down the corridor, hoping to find a room left open on the left hand side of the hallway. He needed a window that faced the courtyard and not the street.
The investigator made his way along, trying every door handle, his hand wrapped in a towel he’d found in the room, and all the time the noise of the approaching police teams was getting louder. Finally, as he tried the last door handle, it clicked open and he entered just as the first police officer came slowly up the stairs.
Quietly, the door clicked shut behind him. He had to move fast. First he locked the door from the inside to buy him some time, then he moved to the window. The room was larger than the one he’d just fought in. Steel opened the bay windows and carefully gazed out on to a small brick balcony and the massive drop straight down on to hard cold concrete. He looked round at the other buildings. The hotel was the corner building of the multi-structure. The building next to it led straight across to the street on the other side. That was the building that he had to get to.
The two buildings joined at a forty-five-degree angle and there was not much distance in between. He looked up at the guttering, which looked new but unstable. Steel cursed as he heard voices shouting into radios and the muffled distorted answers played through their radios. Soon the building would be swarming with police and forensic teams.
He needed to be out of the building and on that ship. All of the balconies had a metal railing that ran across the top of the brickwork. The last floor had no balcony, presumably to deter intruders from getting any ideas.
Steel looked down. He was on the seventh floor and there were a lot of balconies in between him and the ground.
All of a sudden he thought of McCall. He could almost hear her now saying how he had to be completely nuts to even think of what he was planning to do. Steel ran into the bedroom and brought out the double mattress. Throwing it outside he watched it sail to the ground, landing just to the side of the mark he had chosen.
Leaning over the balcony, he next dropped the mercenary’s bag, ensuring that it landed on the soft cushioning of the mattress. Climbing over the railing he let himself hang, then he dropped. A loud metallic bang rang out as he caught the first railing. His winded body hung there for a moment, preparing for the next drop. Again, he let go of the metal rail, determined not to look down during the fall.
He repeated the process again and again. In his mind he had counted the amount of seconds to reach each rail. He had reached the third floor, and his arm muscles began to scream from the jerking impacts. But he looked down at the mattress with relief. Not that far now, he thought.
He only had one more floor to clear. It was jumping time. He let himself drop and then counted the twelve seconds that it took. A loud BANG rang out as he hit the final balcony. He wanted to rest but he knew he had to get away and find a cab as soon as he could. So he jumped and rolled as he hit the mattress. He got up and then dragged the mattress away, then ran with it into the other block.
This block had a drive-in garage and a utility room for people’s unwanted junk. Steel stashed the mattress inside and headed out into the street. Outside people had begun to gather at the entrances of the walkways into the plaza, but were being held back by police barricades and crime tape.
Steel felt a surge of gratitude at his good fortune as he recognized a tourist party from his cruise ship. Next he managed to mingle unobtrusively with the tourist group that had stopped to film the commotion.
“Oh look, it’s Mr Black!” called out the shrieking voice of Missy Studebaker. “And look, something’s going on over there.”
They all looked with interest as the GOES (Grupos Operativos Especiales de Seguridad) police teams brought out the body of the large mercenary. Steel was confused for a moment, wondering who had shot him. Was it someone from his own side, to prevent him from talking? Or did the agent mistakenly do it to save Steel’s life? In addition, what had happened to the other shooter? he wondered. Had he got away, or was he even now in some dark room having his fingers broken or his fingernails removed? The puzzle just kept getting bigger and he was tired and hurt. He decided his best bet was to stay with the group until they boarded. The tour group would be an excellent cover, as the police would most certainly be looking for strangers travelling alone.
He needed to get back to the ship. He needed to know she was safe, and he needed some answers.
THIRTEEN
Tina had been released from hospital and despite being told not to, she went back to work. McCall had received a phone call from her asking, “Can you get me from this hospital please, honey?”
McCall had quickly briefed her in the car, and despite her obvious objections to the idea of Tina going back so soon, she knew that once her friend had made up her mind to do something that was it. As they walked into the ME’s building they saw the uniformed officers posted at nearly every door. Tina smiled, saying,
“After the horse has bolted, right?” McCall frowned.
“The Captain wasn’t happy when you said you were going back.” Tina shrugged.
“So what am I meant to do? Stay at home watching the door all night? That’s not me and you know it.” Sam McCall smiled as she sat on Tina’s desk.
“I guess I would have done the same, but still...”
The doctor shot her a curious look.
“But still ....what?” Tina asked.
Sam’s arms were folded across her chest, and her scowl deepened.
“You could have called that guy from the other night to come over and comfort you?”
Tina was gratified at her concern.
“Look, I am better off at work where I am doing something, not sitting around feeling sorry for myself. Yes, it happened. I’ll live.”
Sam moved from the desk and walked over to where Tina was getting ready.
“So you guys are carrying on with your other cases?” she enquired. “Cool, that’s fine with me.”
Tina slapped on some blue surgical gloves and opened up the drawer containing Donald Major’s body, and the sound of plastic rollers on metal slides echoed through the open-space room. The corpse of Donald Major looked more serene now that the rigor had faded and the chilling look of fright and pain had subsided from his face. Mrs. Major had not yet come down to make a formal ID just yet, as McCall and Tina had thought it was best that she didn’t remember him looking so dreadful. His wallet contained enough ID to satisfy them for the time being.
The female detective thought back to when she and her mom had to go to identify her father after he’d been shot. He was a cop, a damned good one who had taken one in the chest from an unknown sniper. He had gotten a call from dispatch with news of a body in a room i
n an old hotel. It had seemed like an average call, nothing special: probably some meth-head over dossed on some stuff or some poor guy who couldn’t take it anymore. As he had entered the room, he saw a man sitting in a chair. The man sat, motionless and quiet. As Sam’s father had moved in to check him out, he ended up losing half his chest.
“You okay?” Tina asked. She had seen that look on Sam’s face before on many occasion, but not for a long time now.
“Sure, I’m fine. So what have we got on Mr. Major?”
Tina took out his file and opened the beige folder.
“Donald Major. Fifty-two years of age, no prior heart problems, the blood work came back clean. From what I could see, he was all in all a healthy guy. Unless you discount the whole being plugged-into-the-mains thing, of course.”
Sam found it interesting the way that Tina always joked about stuff the harder and more stressful things became. She had heard many times about troops joking about bad situations as a kind of mental release from stress.
“So it was definitely the electrocution that killed him?” Sam asked.
Tina gave McCall a curious look.
“Why? Were you expecting something else?”
The other woman was fishing for information. She couldn’t accept that this professional electrician had made such a basic mistake. Something was wrong. And if there was nothing on the body then it had to be at the crime scene.
McCall and the other detectives had resumed their cases as Robbery was now in control of the break-in. Captain Brant wasn’t happy about it but that was just the way it was.
McCall walked in off the elevator on to the floor and into the bullpen. She didn’t want to be here. She wanted to be out there finding who had attacked her friend. She wanted to be watching over her, making sure she was safe. But she wasn’t with Tina, she was here trying to piece together a death that might or might not be a murder.
McCall sat at her desk and logged on to check her emails. There was a lot of junk but nothing pertaining to the case. She turned in her chair and looked up at the murder board. She had a jigsaw and not enough pieces. McCall made a mental note to drop in and check out the crime scene again in the morning. She leant back and stretched in her chair, her arms stretching out to the sides. Then she looked up to see the smiling faces of Tooms and Tony as she realised her top had stretched tight, outlining the entrancing shape of her breasts.
“You guys were bottle-fed, weren’t you?” she enquired innocently.
They just grinned and went back to work. She caught a glimpse of the empty chair next to her desk and her mind wandered to another time. Reflections of the past came back. She smiled as she could almost see Steel sitting there pondering a problem, wearing those damned glasses. Her smile soured as she thought about him relaxing on a deckchair or sunning himself at a swimming pool when he should be here with her.
McCall shook off the thoughts that were starting to cloud her judgment. She sat up and looked once more at the board. Her eyes squinted as she concentrated. Donald had been a happily married man. His colleagues respected him. He had no money problems, no priors. Murder made no sense. Perhaps it had been an accident. But then, why was the fuse box wiped clean of prints, as well as all the cameras down in the alley leading to the back door? More to the point, why was a top-class electrician working on a two-bit job?
McCall looked over suddenly as Tony slammed down his phone back on the cradle.
“Great,” he groaned. “Another dead end.”
Sam McCall got up and walked over to the two detectives, who were looking as stressed as she was.
“What’s up?” she asked, her voice soft and calming.
Tony sat back in his chair, making it tilt on its hinge.
“The blood work just came back negative for anything.”
She could tell he was hoping the guy was on some drug, which would explain why the crane driver had taken the fast way down. McCall’s mind began to work overtime, and Tooms and Tony could see her chew her bottom lip in concentration.
“Did CSU find anything on the crane to explain the accident?” Tony looked through the file.
“CSU never checked it. No. Apparently the works accident investigations team checked it as it was classed as an accident.” McCall smiled wickedly.
“I sure hope you boys aren’t afraid of heights.”
She looked up at the wall clock. It told her that it was too late to be here. It was eight o’clock and they were all beat. They had been working hard all day and what a day. All she wanted to do was get home, run a deep bubble bath and destroy that bottle of red in the kitchen.
“Okay,” McCall said, standing up and switching off her computer.
“You boys go home, we can do more tomorrow. As for tonight, go and get some rest.” She grabbed her jacket and made for the elevator.
After the usual chaotic drive home, she parked up and headed up to her apartment. With every step, the thought of the deep relaxing bath seemed ever more welcoming. As she turned the corner onto her floor she saw a welcoming sight leaning up against her wall holding a bottle of red wine.
“I phoned the department but they said you had.....” She never let him finish. She pressed her mouth against the doctor’s soft passionate lips and sunk into bliss. She wanted him, and the closer she pressed against him the more she realised that he felt the same.
The sound of reversing alarms from garbage trucks signalled the morning. McCall leant over and looked at the clock. The red LED read five o’clock, and she smiled to herself. She still had time to spare and she knew the right way to spend it. She stared at the handsome naked man next to her.
Well, I am awake now, she thought as she ventured down his body and under the sheets to give him a special early morning call.
At work McCall skipped off the elevator and onto the shop floor. She made for the coffee room after grabbing her mug from the bottom drawer of her desk. The smell of fresh coffee filled her nostrils. She stopped and realised that they’d got fresh supplies of the good coffee, as opposed to the muck the department normally provided.
“Hey, Tooms,” she called over. “Who found the coffee place?” Tooms stood up, looking disappointed.
“Well, thank you very much. I am a detective, you know. I feel insulted that you would imply that I couldn’t even trace some coffee...” She shot him a thoughtful look.
“Steel sent an order through, didn’t he?” She smiled as Tooms sat down and hid his face behind the computer, pretending to work. She made for the coffee room, then stopped and turned. “So when did you speak to Steel?”
Tooms looked up, his pen sticking out of his mouth like a cigarette.
“Uhm, he sent me something, asked if I would check it out. Nothing really.” He turned away from her quickly, hoping she wouldn’t pursue the point.
“What did he send you?” Her words were full of curiosity, but at the same time she felt hurt that Steel had not talked to her.
“Just a fingerprint he wanted looking at.” Now she was even more curious.
“Wait a minute, Tooms. We are in the middle of a murder investigation and holiday boy wants you to check out a print? What was it? Some slut he made out with and he’s checking to see if she’s married or something?” She gave up, affecting a look of disinterest and walked into the coffee room.
Tooms and Tony got up and followed.
“We ran the prints and they belonged to a Shaw McKee,” Tooms read out from a small file he was holding. McCall snatched the file away from him.
“It says here that this guy is a professional hit man out of Dundee, Scotland.” She frowned, her thoughts in disarray.
“Why is Steel looking at this guy?” Tooms shrugged.
“All I know is that he asked me to do a search on a print and this came up. Why? I don’t know why and I don’t think I want to either.”
She poured the coffee into her mug. The aroma filled her nostrils and it smelt really good. “So did you send off the results to him yet?” Sh
e filled the two empty cups on the counter for the two detectives.
“Yeah, I sent them last night,” Tooms replied.
“That’s when I asked him about the coffee house.”
McCall leant against the counter and blew on the smoking hot brew. What was Steel doing on the cruise ship if he wasn’t taking a holiday, she wondered?
“When are you guys off to the docks?” She watched Tooms check his wristwatch.
“We got a meeting with the docks super at nine.” His watch read eight o’clock.
“Okay, I am off to see Tina. I’ll see you guys later.” She placed a black thermos lid on the metal travel mug and made for the elevator, leaving Tooms and Tony to finish up before heading up town.
A fresh morning breeze funnelled its way through the mass of steel containers. Cargo boxes that lay neatly stacked up displayed black lettering, some stating their origin and others their destination. The yard was neatly organized in sections, a set of large buildings containing the customs office, some restrooms and a control room. Massive towering cranes stood at the edge of the embankments, their skeletal structures reaching up from the light-grey concrete. Tooms had arranged for them to meet with the foreman at the crane where John Barr had met his end.
As Tooms and Tony approached the crane, they saw a tall man in a white hard hat waiting at one of the cranes. The man was in his late fifties with thinning short black hair and a small neatly trimmed moustache. He was talking to two other men. Each of these was of similar height and build, with short hair, one blond and the other brown-haired. They both wore sunglasses.
As the detectives approached, the blond man saw them and nudged the other. The other man didn’t turn to see who was approaching, he just nodded and the pair walked briskly away. The foreman turned and smiled briefly to welcome Tooms and Tony, who were just feet away from him. Tooms noticed the beads of sweat on the man’s forehead and sensed that he was sweating because of fear, not because of the heat.