Exit Strategy

by Jen J. Danna

She looked up to meet his eyes. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He held her gaze. “Don’t do it again. There won’t be any second chances.”

  “Understood.” She scanned the backyard. “Were you waiting for me?”

  Tony nodded.

  “How did you know we’d come here? We could have split up and gone home.”

  “A father knows. After today, after how today ended, you weren’t going to go home to sit alone. You’d need family.”

  “After how today ended... ” Anger swelled in her again. “Such a senseless waste of life.”

  “Willan?” Joe asked.

  “That goes without saying. I’m actually referring to Boyle.” She could hear fury leaching into her tone, but couldn’t hold it back. “He didn’t need to die. We had him cornered. I told Logan we had him. He didn’t have to take the shot.”

  “He was ordered to take the shot, and he followed that order.” Joe’s voice was flat and pure no-nonsense cop. “Sanders was past taking any further chances. You’d bought his reluctant patience up to then, but he was done. Boyle had managed to get as far as the cemetery. If he got past you two and back out into the city, he might have slipped through. He’d already killed and shown no compunction at shooting civilians. He was a risk, so Sanders made the call he felt was necessary.”

  “Logan could have taken him down with an extremity shot. He didn’t have to end him.”

  “Logan’s beyond good, but even he would have trouble making an extremity shot at night on a target who is leaping through the air. In taking that shot, he saved Alex’s life.”

  “Cazzate,” she spit back. “Look at Boyle’s actions through the whole day. He killed with intention just once, and that was in retribution for his son’s death. From that point on, the only other person he injured—not killed, but injured—was in self-defense. Boyle wasn’t a spree killer. He was a cop lashing out in a targeted approach. He was never going to do anything to Alex, because Alex was NYPD and Boyle respected the force. But he needed it to look like he would make the shot so Logan would take him out, saving him the hell of incarceration. He put the end of his life in a sniper’s hands, knowing it would be fast and as painless as possible. I knew that was his goal and tried to stop it.”

  Joe leaned forward, propping an elbow on the table, his brow furrowed. “What’s going on here? Why are you so angry?”

  “Because we’d already lost Willan and possibly Coulter. Why lose one more?”

  “That’s not it,” Tony countered.

  “That’s part of it.”

  “But not all.”

  Exhausted, Gemma bowed her head to stare at her shield, still clutched in her right hand. “No, it’s not.” She looked up, her gaze shifting from Joe, to Alex, and finally to her father. “He was one of us. He gave his life to the job, and then he gave his child.” She swallowed hard. “He could have been you.”

  Tony held very still. Too still. “Me.”

  “How would you react if one of us went down in the line of duty, in a death you felt could have been prevented? How would you react to the loss of a child?” She turned to Joe. “Or you, if Sam or Gabe were killed?” To Alex. “He was one of us.” Her voice dropped. “And what did our understanding of his pain get him? A bullet.” She faced her father. “I’m a hostage negotiator. We try to bring everyone out alive. It’s what we do.” A shiver ran down her spine as she realized she’d inadvertently echoed Boyle’s own words. “Yes, he deserved a trial and jail time for what he did, but I was trying to bring him out alive.”

  “Logan was just doing his job,” Alex said. “Don’t be pissed at him.”

  Gemma shrugged dejectedly. “I guess I’m just looking for a target and he’s handy.”

  Tony reached across the table and took her hand in his. “I was terrified for you today. But also proud that you’d so selflessly put yourself in harm’s way to save those people. Because as terrifying as it was for me to relive the day your mother died, it had to be worse for you. I’d only ever seen it from the outside. You’d lived it. I suspect that was the real reason you had no choice.”

  She latched onto her father’s hand as if it were a lifeline. “I didn’t analyze it at the time, but you’re probably right. In the end, I didn’t really have time to think about myself. I spent the whole time watching out for everyone else.”

  “Speaking of watching out for everyone else,” Alex interjected, “how are the hostages?”

  “They were all checked out by paramedics. Two of them were taken to the hospital for additional tests or treatment. Clara Sutton, the hostage who was pistol-whipped, was treated and released. She’ll be fine. Janina Lee, Rowland’s admin assistant, is pregnant—” At Gemma’s harsh, indrawn breath, he patted her hand. “She’s fine and so is the baby. It was just a precaution.”

  “She never said anything,” Gemma stated.

  “She said she didn’t want to do anything to draw attention to herself. And she’s only a few months along, so she wasn’t showing. But she told the paramedics right away and they decided to err on the side of caution, which everyone agreed was best. Everyone else is fine. Rob Greenfield has a grade-three concussion and they’re going to monitor him overnight, but he’ll go home tomorrow.”

  “What about Coulter?”

  “Last I heard, he was in surgery, listed in serious, but not critical, condition. His cameraman got help to him fast, so that’s in his favor. Rowland is devastated by Willan’s death, but insisted on being the one to tell his wife and kids. There’ll be a big public funeral for him, probably next week, with a departmental presence, so you’ll hear more about it once arrangements are made. Now you need to shut it down for the night.” Tony looked at Alex. “You too. You’re both to report for a debriefing tomorrow at headquarters at oh nine hundred.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I know Alyssa is expecting Joe home later on, but will you two do an old man a favor tonight?”

  Gemma exchanged glances with Alex. “Of course. What do you need?”

  “Come inside, decompress, and then bunk down here in your old rooms. I just... need that tonight. Need my kids under my roof.”

  Gemma climbed to her feet and circled the table to stand behind her father’s chair. She bent to wrap her arms around his shoulders and pressed her cheek to his, his day’s worth of stubble a gentle scratch against her skin. “Sì, Papà.”

  Tomorrow there would be situation reviews and debriefings. There would be lessons to stockpile for new cases, and strategic planning to improve the next outcome. But for tonight, she would put it all away.

  Tonight would be for family. For her father, who raised her and gave her a life’s work. For her brothers, her fellow first-responders-in-arms, who shared her passion. For the memory of her mother, who gave her life trying to protect others.

  Arm in arm with her father, they went inside. As Gemma paused to close the door behind her, she looked one last time over the site of her family’s celebration. A day that had started with such hope, but had morphed into a twisted shadow of the worst day of their lives.

  We’ll rebuild our tradition next year.

  She closed the door, turning away from the memories of the day, and joined her family in celebrating the bonds that still held fast.

  Acknowledgments

  Exit Strategy is my first solo novel, but I was incredibly lucky to have many of my usual writing supporters with me on this journey. My sincere thanks to those who helped launch the NYPD Negotiators:

  My husband, Rick, who not only brainstormed parts of the novel with me, but was my guinea pig/alpha reader while I was crafting the initial proposal, and my travel companion on a whirlwind trip through New York City to scout every scene in the book and to walk Gemma’s exact path through the city.

  Fellow Seymour Agency sibling and longtime writing buddy Marianne Harden, who gladly jumped in during the proposal planning to assist with presubmission editing and polishing.

  Son-in-law to be, Shane
Vandevalk, for sharing his considerable knowledge on all things firearms-related, including taking me to a range and putting a gun in my hand for the very first time.

  Fellow Kensington Books author and New York City native Laurie Chandlar, who was invaluable in helping me plan our trip to New York City. She was then instrumental in boots-on-the-ground troubleshooting of an issue concerning New York City Hall as we stood on the front steps before enjoying a tour of the building. A history buff, Laurie also assisted in my research of the historic City Hall subway station in the New York Transit Museum archives.

  Rebecca Haggerty, archivist at the New York Transit Museum, for allowing me to invade the archives to do research on the City Hall subway station, and for sharing its colorful history and wonderful architecture from the turn of the twentieth century to the present.

  Assistance from facets within and around the NYPD to ensure this book was as factual as possible: the NYPD Office of the Deputy Commissioner, Public Information; Sam Katz from the Detectives’ Endowment Association, Inc.; and particularly Lieutenant Jack Cambria, the former commander of the NYPD HNT (2001– 2015). After their invaluable assistance, any and all mistakes are mine alone.

  My critique team, who barely had time to recover from the last novel when I was already placing Exit Strategy in their capable hands. To Lisa Giblin, Jenny Lindstrom, Jessica Newton, Rick Newton, and Sharon Taylor, thank you for always going above and beyond to give me that extra push (sometimes even a week or two after reading the manuscript as new ideas came to you) to make the book a richer experience to not only write, but read.

  My agent, Nicole Resciniti, who was with me from this project’s inception—from the first phone call discussing the possibilities of this series, to early edits where she helped strengthen the germinal first chapters, to making the final deals for the series. My thanks for all your hard work; I literally could not have pulled this off without you.

  The entire Kensington team, including Norma Perez-Hernandez, Louis Malcangi and his talented art department, and the publicity team—Larissa Ackerman, Lauren Jernigan, and Crytstal McCoy—for unending support during the entire process.

  My editor at Kensington, Esi Sogah, for having faith in this new series and enthusiastically sharing her knowledge of the city and its people. It’s been a wonderful experience moving into this new world with you, and I’m looking forward to where we can take Gemma and her family in the future.

  BEHIND THE SCENES OF EXIT STRATEGY

  When writing a novel based in the real world, research is critical. But, if done well, readers will only see the barest touches of that research. This is key: authors need to know as much as possible on a relevant topic, but if all that knowledge was added to a novel, the infodumps would be as boring to read as they would be to write. Only research crucial to the storytelling process should be revealed, no matter how interesting some of it may be to the author personally. This can be a difficult, but important, lesson for an author to learn as they hone their craft.

  When I decided to set my world of hostage negotiation inside the NYPD, I knew I’d need to travel to New York City to really get a feel for the area, as I’d never been there before. Colleagues Esi Sogah and Laurie Chandlar were invaluable in sharing their knowledge of the city and its people, but there’s nothing like a boots-on-the-ground experience to truly understand the flavor of a location.

  When I organized the trip, there were several sites I knew I’d need to visit: New York City Hall, the City Hall subway station, St. Patrick’s Old Cathedral, and the Lower East Side. These were the streets Gemma walked, and I wanted to walk them in her stead. Accompanying me was my husband, who good naturedly let me drag him around the city for several days.

  It quickly became clear that the trip had indeed been a good idea.

  We hadn’t even entered City Hall for a tour before a flaw in my planning was revealed. I was unaware of the extreme level of security required to enter the building. These precautions were established following the 2003 murder of New York City councilman James E. Davis on the balcony overlooking the council chambers. My plan to have John Boyle enter City Hall with an undetected firearm was entirely unrealistic given the current security standards of metal detectors and x-ray scanning for anyone entering the building. It was Laurie Chandlar’s knowledge of the area and the protest taking place the day we visited that combined to construct the final story aspect of Boyle’s disguise, allowing him to enter the building armed as expected for an NYPD officer.

  The City Hall subway station has been out of use since 1945, and it is nearly impossible to book a spot on the infrequent MTA-HOSTED tours due to the tour’s popularity. As a result, my research on the station had to be through other avenues. Online research netted current pictures from individuals who have been lucky enough to attend the tours. Also extremely helpful was a visit to the New York Transit Museum archives in Brooklyn, where Rebecca Haggerty guided me through the construction and early days of the subway system, and City Hall Station in particular.

  One final piece of research brought me as close to the station as was possible—a subway ride through the station itself. The MTA now allows riders to stay on the train after the final southbound stop on the 6 train at the Brooklyn Bridge/City Hall Station, riding the train along the curve through the abandoned City Hall Station as the track loops back around to the Brooklyn Bridge/City Hall Station before proceeding north for the remainder of the route. The train slows down to take the sharp curve, and for approximately ten seconds riders have an excellent view of the station’s platform, vaulted ceilings, and plaques. The original ticket room is even visible up the stairs from the platform. If you ride the train during bright daylight hours, the station is well lit and the tilework is still quite vibrant. Definitely a fun trip for history buffs.

  That trip through the City Hall Station was the beginning of our journey as we followed Gemma and Boyle on their flight through the Lower East Side. The chase scene was already outlined in detail, and armed with a Google Map of the exact path, we walked the route. This part of the story could have been told from online research only, but there’s something vital to be gained from experiencing neighborhoods first hand. It’s a great area full of interesting people, lovely architecture, and varied parks, playgrounds, and sports courts. It also gave me insight into how a route outlined via satellite photos wasn’t quite as clear cut as believed, and the final path changed accordingly. Most conveniently, the route left us in Little Italy where a lovely dinner awaited us after our efforts.

  The final location to visit in New York City was St. Patrick’s Old Cathedral. Located in Manhattan in the north end of Little Italy and built in the early nineteenth century, the Cathedral contains catacombs that are now open to the public. Tommy’s of New York offers walking tours of the cathedral, catacombs, and cemeteries, and we took advantage of the tour to get an accurate picture of both the north cemetery and the catacombs where the final scenes of the book take place. It’s a beautiful church with fascinating stories as told by tour guides who really know their New York history. Highly recommended!

  Back home again, there was one area where I knew I was deficient: firearms. So I made several trips to the gun range, first to shoot handguns—including a Glock 17 in place of Gemma’s Glock 19—and a second trip to shoot an AR-15, the closest I could get to Sean Logan’s M4 Commando rifle. I only included a fraction of the information I learned about firearms in the novel, but simply being hands on gave me insight into the skill required to make an accurate shot, the power of those weapons and the thought that should go into making the decision to use a firearm in the first place.

  Many might think a research trip is the best of excuses to travel to a new location, but truthfully, that’s simply an added bonus. The time and energy spent in researching the world of a book can make that story come alive for both author and reader. It certainly made the world of Gemma Capello and her family come alive for me.

  Turn the page for an additional scen
e from this book!

  “Suspect on the move!”

  Alex Capello’s voice came through Logan’s earpiece as he took the steps two at a time. He raced up the maintenance stairs to the heavy metal door at the top, his M4 Commando rifle cross-slung over his chest and steadied by one hand on the pistol grip as he used his other hand on the railing to haul himself up faster. Once at the top, he used the keys given to him by the building superintendent to open the door and burst through to the dark rooftop.

  Little Italy lay spread out in patches of light from bared windows and lantern-lit patios as the evening’s Ferragosto celebrations continued. But as he sprinted to the edge of the roof, he only had eyes for the scene unfolding below.

  Across the street, Old Saint Patrick’s Cathedral stood between Mulberry and Mott Streets, flanked by cemeteries to the north and south. The north cemetery lay just across from him, barely illuminated by security lights mounted high on the wall of the church. He scanned the area, looking for any landmarks that would interfere with a clean line of sight, noting the scattering of trees on the east side and the larger tombs and memorials on the west side that would obstruct a shot.

  If he couldn’t see a threat, he couldn’t neutralize it.

  He dropped to his knees behind the two-foot wall that separated him from a six-story drop. Using the outside edge of the wall for support just in front of the hand guard on the barrel, he steadied his rifle, his finger lying poised and ready along the trigger guard. Closing his eyes, he let out a long breath, concentrating on slowing his heart rate and smoothing his breathing. Steadying his hands.

  When inches counted, precision was key. There was a murderer down there threatening two cops, and inches could make the difference between life and death for any of them.

  Gemma.

  He hadn’t said hello to her for years, hadn’t had an actual conversation in twice that—until today, when he’d tried to dissuade her from putting herself into the suspect’s hands in exchange for the hostages. But for a while during their academy days, she’d been the driving force behind his ambition, both personal and professional. They’d both moved on to patrol beats afterward, and then he to the Emergency Services Unit and the Apprehension Tactical Team, and she eventually to the Hostage Negotiation Team. They’d occasionally passed each other at a crime scene, but not until today were they thrown into such close contact. Today of all days, when Gemma had to be reliving so many anguished memories of the day her mother was killed right in front of her.