Reckless Abandon

by Stuart Woods

  “Sounds like I should marry you for your money.”

  “I’m not ever going to marry.”

  “You sound very sure.”

  “I am. It just isn’t out there for me. You’re a catch, but you’re too much like me. Jackson was a wholly different person, calm and wise and funny. He wasn’t brilliant, but he knew how to do the right thing in any situation.”

  “That’s as much a gift as Ham’s shooting.”

  “You’re right, and he cultivated it every day. But he’s gone, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

  “Did they ever catch the people who did it, that cult group, or whatever they were?”

  “No, but Lance says I’d have a better chance with the Agency. I could never run them down in law enforcement. Either I’d have a department to run, like now, or I’d be caught up in a bureaucracy with some supervisor’s shoe on my neck. I don’t think it would be like that with Lance.”

  “Maybe not.”

  “I could always quit, if I didn’t like it.”

  “I suppose.”

  The phone rang and Stone picked it up. “Hello?”

  “It’s Dino. The address is less than two blocks from your house.”

  “Jesus.” He got a pencil and wrote it down. “We’ll meet you there.”

  “No, come here. We’ve got the building plans on the way, and we need to plan this well.”

  “We’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  “Bring your weapons and Holly’s warrant.”

  “Will do.” He hung up.

  “Got your warrant?” he asked Holly.

  “You bet your ass.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  On the way uptown, in the cab, Stone reached out for Holly’s wrist and felt her pulse.

  “What are you doing?”

  “It’s about ninety,” he said. “You want to calm down. Take some deep breaths. It’s going to be at least a couple of hours before we go in.”

  “I want to do it now.”

  “I know, but you have to be patient.”

  “No, I don’t,” she replied.

  “You’ll do a better job if you pace yourself.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Certainly.”

  She began taking deep breaths, and her heart rate started to come down.

  “That’s better,” he said.

  “No, it isn’t,” she replied.

  50

  THE TEAM MET in a conference room at Dino’s precinct. There was a pile of equipment near the door, and men, and a couple of women, were milling around, talking.

  “Okay, everybody, settle down,” Dino said, setting a blowup of a floor plan on an easel. A blown-up photograph of Trini Rodriguez was pinned to a wall.

  People took seats or leaned against the walls.

  “We’re lucky on this one. The building’s under renovation, so current floor plans were filed for the new building permit. What we’ve got is a five-story walk-up, just like the ones on either side, with a fire escape down the back. We’re lucky, too, that the fire escape on our building has been removed, pending replacement, so there’s no way down, except the main staircase.

  “The phone number we tracked down belongs to the top-floor apartment, though there’s not supposed to be anybody living in the building while the fire escape is down, but the neighbors say there are still people living there. The building is owned by a Muslim charity, and the tenants appear to be Muslim, too, so we should treat anybody inside as noncooperative but not hostile, unless they behave that way.

  “It’s possible that, if the occupants see us going up the stairs, they might give the alarm, and that would make this work more dangerous, so anybody who sees us should be hustled inside his apartment and told to shut up. Anybody who tries to give the alarm should be arrested and gagged until we’re done.

  “We’ve got a twelve-man team. I want four on the roof—you can access it from the building to the east—and eight going up the stairs. We’ve got two officers from a Florida department who have a fugitive warrant for Rodriguez, and they’ll be bringing up the rear, so I’ll keep them with me.

  “According to the neighbors across the street, there are a lot of people living in each apartment, so you should expect there to be as many as half a dozen people in the apartment. They should all be immediately restrained, unless they point weapons at officers, in which case you should respond with armed force. Any questions?”

  “Yeah,” said a burly young man sitting at the table. “You have any idea what they might be armed with?”

  “My best guess is handguns, but you should be ready to deal with automatic weapons.”

  “If automatic weapons are a possibility, then I suggest we use a stun grenade before going in.”

  “Negative,” Dino said. “There may be women or even children in there, and since that incident last year when the woman died of a heart attack after a stun grenade was used, we can use them only in dire emergencies when we’re certain who’s in there.”

  “Have we used any listening devices on the place?”

  “We’ve pointed a mike at an upstairs window from across the street, but the blinds are drawn, and all we’ve heard is a kind of low muttering, which we take to be men’s voices, and not much of that. We think they may be sleeping.”

  The man nodded.

  “Anybody else?”

  The SWAT team leader walked to the easel and pointed. “Going in, try to confine any shooting to this direction, to the east, because we’ve got a double-brick wall there. If possible, avoid shooting toward the walls, here and here, that have windows. Even though we’re using frangible ammo, I don’t want any rounds going through an open window and flying around the neighborhood. Clear?”

  Nobody said anything.

  “Is the search warrant here yet?” the leader asked Dino.

  “It’s on the way,” Dino replied. “We won’t go until it’s in hand. It’s for the whole building.”

  “Do we have arrest warrants for anybody but Rodriguez?”

  “Not specifically, but anybody in the apartment should be arrested for harboring a fugitive.”

  “Women, too?”

  “Yes. There’ll be a couple of people from Children’s Services on hand to take charge of any children in the apartment, and one of them is an Arabic speaker.”

  “One of my people speaks Arabic and Urdu, too,” the leader said, pointing at one of his men. “He’ll do all the talking until we’ve established who speaks English.”

  “Trini Rodriguez speaks English,” Holly said.

  Everybody turned to look at her.

  “He might pretend not to, and I’d suggest that if he’s armed and he’s slow obeying commands in English, somebody shoot him.”

  “This is Chief Barker from the Orchid Beach, Florida, PD,” Dino said. “She’s had considerable experience with Rodriguez. Anything else to offer, Holly?”

  “He’s a stone killer,” she said, “and he’ll do anything to avoid being arrested, including shooting police officers. He won’t hesitate, and neither should you.”

  “Okay,” Dino said. “We’ve got four detectives in the block observing the house, two in the building across the street on the same floor as our target apartment. We’ll be in two vans, and we’ll stop on the avenue and check with them before moving in.” He looked around the room. “You guys look ready to me. Let’s go!”

  The men picked up their equipment and filed out.

  Dino walked over to a pile next to the door. “This is our stuff,” he said. “Let’s suit up. We’re aiming for entry at six p.m.”

  51

  IT WAS HOT in the van in which Stone, Holly, and Dino were riding, and the heavy equipment made things worse. It was past six p.m. A few of the SWAT team were exchanging macho banter, but most were quiet. Stone wiped sweat from his forehead. “I’m going to need a shower after this.”

  “Me, too,” Holly said.

  “Hey, driver!” Dino called out. “Crank u
p the AC, will you?”

  “It’s going full blast, Lieutenant,” the man called back.

  A minute later, the van pulled to a stop, and Dino picked up a handheld radio. “Ricardo, you there?”

  “Yes, Lieutenant.”

  “What’s happening inside?”

  “Some women in Muslim dress went into the building carrying groceries, but I couldn’t tell what floor they went to.”

  “Anybody leave?”

  “No, sir.”

  Dino looked at the SWAT team leader. “We’re good to go.”

  “Okay, everybody,” the leader said, “fast across the sidewalk, slow up the stairs. I want complete silence from everybody except me and Lieutenant Bacchetti, and we’re using earplugs with the radio.”

  Somebody opened the door, and men from both vans spilled onto the sidewalk and ran up the stairs to the front door, while four others ran to the building next door to gain roof access. Somebody defeated the lock to the street door, and everybody crowded inside, with Stone and Holly bringing up the rear. Stone and Holly had earplugs for their radios, and they could hear any conversation between the SWAT team leader and Dino.

  The first element of the team made their way slowly up the stairs, being as quiet as possible, but there was some noise—equipment brushing against the banister, the occasional slip of a boot. They climbed the stairs like a giant caterpillar, snaking around the landings and making their way inexorably upward.

  Stone and Holly, right behind Dino, were on the fourth-floor landing when the team leader spoke.

  “Stop,” he breathed into the radio. “Dino?”

  “Right here,” Dino whispered.

  “There are two doors on the fifth floor.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Could be two apartments.”

  “That wasn’t in the plans.”

  “I know.”

  “Then let’s go in both doors.”

  “We’ve only got one ram to take out the doors.”

  “How tough do they look?”

  “Heavy, brand-new, only got primer on them.”

  “Okay. Knock on one door, say it’s the plumber. As soon as somebody cracks it, knock down the other one and go in both.”

  “Okay. Hang on, one of my men will have to unsuit so he’ll look okay through the peephole.”

  “Okay.”

  They waited as patiently as they could on the landing, and then they heard a knock.

  “Plumber,” a male voice said. “I gotta turn off the water for a few minutes.” A pause. “Look, pal, the landlord says I go in there right now. You aren’t even supposed to be in the apartment, so let me in.”

  They heard a chain rattle, then the door opening, then all hell broke loose. They heard the ram hit the second door.

  “Police! On the floor, everybody!” Other voices added to the din. Shots were fired, then the shooting stopped.

  Dino ran up the stairs, followed by Stone and Holly. Both doors were open, one off its hinges, and the hallway was empty. Dino ran through the second door.

  Stone and Holly were right behind him. The scene that presented itself was of half a dozen men, all dressed in white, lying on the floor with their hands secured behind them with plastic strips. One man lay faceup on the floor, his chest a mass of blood and holes. He didn’t appear to be breathing.

  “Is he here?” Holly asked.

  “Hang on a minute,” Dino said, “we got another door.”

  A team member was swinging the heavy ram toward what appeared to be a bedroom door. The steel tool struck the door and bounced off, leaving a dent.

  “We got a steel door,” he said, “and it’s braced.”

  “Keep at it,” the team leader yelled.

  The man continued to batter the door, then gave up the ram to a second, fresher man.

  “This ain’t working,” the team leader said. “Bring up the saw.”

  A team member carrying a large black nylon bag unzipped it and produced a battery-operated radial saw. He went to work on the walls around the door, slicing through the timber studs, then he stood back.

  “Once more with the ram,” the team leader said.

  A man picked up the ram and swung it at the door with all his might. The door skidded off the timber bracing it and fell into the room, creating a cloud of dust, and the team poured through the opening, shouting. A moment later, the shouting stopped.

  “What’s happening?” Holly yelled, pushing her way into the room, followed by Stone and Dino.

  “Holy shit,” somebody said.

  They were all standing around a hole about eighteen inches in diameter that had been punched through the outer wall and into the building next door. Men were stripping off their armor so they could squeeze through.

  “Put that equipment back on!” the team leader shouted. “Nobody goes in there without armor!” He held the radio to his lips. “Roof team, start down and search every apartment on the way!”

  “Hang on,” Dino said, “our warrant doesn’t cover the building next door.”

  “I want four men on the front door of the building next door,” the team leader said, pointing to men, and they ran out of the apartment.

  “I’m going through there,” Holly said, pushing her way forward.

  “You don’t want to do that, Holly,” Dino said. “You want a good bust out of this. We’ll have the building sealed in a minute, then we’ll send for another warrant.”

  “It’s hot pursuit, Dino. You don’t need a warrant to pursue.”

  “Okay,” Dino said to the team leader. “Let’s get that hole made bigger and get some men through it. We can’t search the other apartments, but we can search the one on the other side of the hole and the hallways.”

  SWAT team members went to work with tools left in the apartment, and ten minutes later, they were able to get men in armor through the hole.

  Stone and Holly followed them and emerged into an empty apartment under renovation.

  “Who was on the roof?” Holly asked.

  Two men raised their hands.

  “Did you see anybody come onto the roof from this building?”

  They looked at each other sheepishly. “We had our backs to it,” one of them said, “watching the exit from the other building.”

  “Is there a fire escape on this building?” Holly asked.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Holly turned to the SWAT team leader. “Then let’s get going. We have to pursue.”

  “Hang on, Holly,” Dino said. “The guy’s been gone for, what, fifteen minutes? All he had to do was catch a cab. He’s gone for now. We’ve still got a city-wide APB out on him, and we’ll get his picture on the news. That’s all we can do for now, and all you can do is wait.”

  “Shit, shit, shit!” Holly said.

  “My feelings exactly,” Dino replied.

  “Let’s go home,” Stone said.

  52

  HOLLY, STONE, AND Dino trooped disconsolately down the stairs and out into the street, still wearing their body armor. As they hit the sidewalk a television van pulled into the block, and a reporter sprinted toward Dino.

  “Lieutenant Bacchetti!” she was hollering. “Give us a minute?”

  Dino stopped. “What can I do for you?”

  “What just went down here?”

  “Call information services, they’ll give you a statement.”

  “Yeah, sure,” the woman said.

  “Why don’t you talk to Chief Holly Barker of the Orchid Beach Police Department?” he suggested, grabbing Holly’s arm and dragging her forward.

  “Chief Barker?” the woman said. “Who did you arrest here?”

  “I’m afraid we didn’t arrest anybody,” she said. “I’m in New York with a fugitive warrant for one Trini Rodriguez. We entered this building with the help of the NYPD, believing him to be here, but he apparently had a well-planned escape route, and we missed him.”

  “Isn’t that the man wanted for killing a
n FBI agent and wounding another?”

  “Yes, it is, but I want him for a dozen murders committed in the state of Florida.”

  “We interviewed Special Agent Grant Harrison from the FBI’s Miami office less than an hour ago, and he’s posted a one-hundred-thousand-dollar reward for Rodriguez. If he’s caught, who gets him?”

  “I suppose that depends on who catches him,” Holly said.

  “If you catch him, are you going to hand him over to the FBI?”

  “If I catch him, I’m going to take him back to Florida and see him tried.”

  “What about the FBI?”

  “What about them?”

  “Don’t they have precedence?”

  “Says who?”

  “Says Agent Harrison.”

  “Well, he would, wouldn’t he? Excuse me.” She went to the van where Stone was waiting and stripped off her equipment. “Let’s get out of here.”

  When they arrived at Stone’s house, he switched on the TV and saw Holly’s interview on the all-news channel.

  “You did very well,” Stone said.

  “Hang on,” Holly said, “here comes Grant.”

  “In an interview five minutes ago, Special Agent Grant Harrison of the FBI’s Miami office disagreed with Chief Barker,” the anchorman was saying.

  “Chief Barker apparently doesn’t understand procedure in this case,” Grant said. “The FBI will take custody of Mr. Rodriguez when he’s caught, and he’ll be tried in federal court for the murder of a federal agent and the attempted murder of another.”

  “But the NYPD has an all-points bulletin out for this man right now,” the reporter said. “Do you think they’ll give him up if they capture him?”

  “We’ve already seen an example of how the local department works,” Grant said. “They made an attempt to arrest Mr. Rodriguez today. They failed, and now he’s at large again. They should have left this to us.”

  “We understand that it was Chief Barker and the NYPD who tracked Mr. Rodriguez to the East Side address,” the reporter said. “Did the FBI know his whereabouts?”

  “That’s all I have to say at this time,” Grant said. “We’re offering a one-hundred-thousand-dollar reward for information leading to the arrest of Trini Rodriguez.”