Fourth Day (29 page)

‘You weren’t exactly being subtle,’ I said. ‘Was that why you made a play for Maria?’

‘Hey, that was Nu. I didn’t have nothing—’

‘Toss a coin for it, did you?’ I cut in, and he went so abruptly silent that I realised they may well have done just that. ‘What was that supposed to achieve?’

He gave a half-hearted smile. ‘Exactly what it did – bring both your people, Meyer and…,’ he jerked his head towards Dex, …lover boy there, running. Sagar covered all the bases.’

‘Not quite,’ Gardner said. ‘John Nu died early this morning.’

Yancy’s mouth gaped. ‘But, you said—’

‘I said, if I couldn’t pin this on one of you, I’d settle for the other,’ she said with a grim little smile. ‘There is no deal. There never was. Congratulations, Tyrone. You win tonight’s star prize.’

Expertly for a woman of her stature, she wrestled Yancy to his feet, hands still cuffed behind his back, took a firm grip on his elbow and looked at me. ‘Decision time, Charlie,’ she said. ‘I’m taking him out of here. You gonna come with me, or you gonna stay?’

I chose to stay. Of course I did. How could I do otherwise when an arrogant little voice in my head whispered that by being here I might be able to prevent the worst of this? Epps’s men might not blink at taking me down along with the rest, but I clung to the hope that Parker or Sean would hesitate, if only for a second…

Now, though, I tried to concentrate purely on the practical.

‘From a defensive point of view, it’s a nightmare,’ I said, shaking my head over the architect’s plans spread across Bane’s desk. ‘The construction’s mainly timber frame rather than block, which won’t stop anything remotely heavy calibre. We can’t hope to defend all points of entry, because they could come through a wall as easily as a doorway.’

Gardner was stowing a manacled Yancy into the back seat of her car as we spoke, and Dexter’s crew were helping Fourth Day’s frightened inhabitants to prepare for whatever was to come.

‘It was not built as a fortress,’ Bane pointed out mildly. ‘I—’

At that moment, the phone rang. It was a modern sleek silver handset, sitting flush with its cradle on the desk and it had a piercing ringtone. Bane’s hand hovered over the receiver for a moment, then he pressed the button for the speaker and said a calm, ‘Yes?’

‘Mr Bane,’ said a controlled voice at the other end of the line. ‘My name is Epps, Homeland Security. I’m sure you remember me.’

Bane’s face locked. Smooth and sleek, he had never resembled a statue as much as he did then, but when he spoke his tone was almost lazy.

‘How could I forget?’

‘I imagine that Miss Fox and Detective Gardner have, by now, brought you up to speed on the gravity of your situation.’

Bane’s eyes flickered to me. ‘What is it that you want, Mr Epps?’

I heard Epps sigh. ‘A satisfactory conclusion. Peaceful if possible, but I believe you’ll find we are prepared for any eventuality.’ There was indifference in his tone, as if it didn’t matter much to him whichever way we played it.

‘I’m sure you are,’ Bane murmured. ‘Just as I’m sure you are aware that we have women and children here.’

I frowned at him. It was useless to appeal to Epps’s finer feelings. The man didn’t have any.

‘Then I expect you will want to do everything possible to avoid… unpleasantness.’

‘And how can I do that?’

‘By giving yourself up, Mr Bane.’

‘I wasn’t aware of being in a position where I needed to do so,’ Bane said mildly. ‘If you want to talk, come in and we’ll talk.’

Epps made a noise that might have signified amusement. ‘Thank you for the generous offer of hospitality,’ he said dryly, ‘but we’ll do this on my terms, I think. I will send a vehicle in to collect you. With a chase car. They’ll come via the main approach road in twenty minutes. Be waiting. Any sign of a weapon, and I will not be able to guarantee the safety of those women and children you mentioned.’

Bane’s face hardened, but his voice stayed smooth. ‘I’ll be expecting you,’ he said. ‘Detective Gardner was just on her way out with a prisoner you might be interested in – Tyrone Yancy. He has confessed in front of witnesses to killing your men, and to the murder of Thomas Witney. I think you should hear what else he has to say.’

‘Nobody leaves until we get there,’ Epps said, and cut the connection without waiting for argument.

‘You two know each other,’ I said flatly. ‘How?’

He sighed. ‘I made a great deal of money in the Eastern Bloc, shortly after the collapse of the old Soviet Union, by dealing with, shall we say, a diverse selection of people,’ he said at last. ‘In those days, Epps was concerned with overseas intel. He tried to induce me to pass information on my business associates back to certain government agencies.’

‘Nice.’

He nodded absently. ‘Had I been exposed, the consequences would have been lethal – not just for me, but the families of the people involved. I refused. Since then, Epps has had me in his sights.’

‘So, it’s personal.’ I stuffed my hands into my trouser
pockets, jerked my head towards the laden bookcases. ‘Well, I hope you haven’t read all those books, because where you’re going, you’ll have nothing to do
but
read.’

Bane glanced up. ‘What choices do I have?’ he asked, sounding weary for the first time. ‘Making a stand is not an option. You said so yourself.’

‘At least don’t take it lying down,’ I said. ‘If you have contacts in the media, now’s the time to exploit them. And if you have any high-priced lawyers on retainer, I’d be putting them on standby, if you haven’t done so already.’

He reached for the phone again, but this time when he pressed the on-hook dial button, the speaker replayed only an edgy silence. Bane lifted the receiver and jiggled it a few times, without result.

‘They cut the phones – standard operating procedure,’ I said. I peeled Parker’s stolen cellphone out of my pocket and hit the power button, watched it search fruitlessly for a signal.
Shit
. ‘And they knocked out the nearest cell tower, by the looks of it. That means your Internet connection’s down as well. Epps is nothing if not thorough.’

‘That settles it, then.’ Bane moved round the desk, put his hands on my shoulders and gazed down at me. ‘Go forward from this if you can, Charlie,’ he said. ‘When we first met, I believed you were one of the most troubled souls I’d ever met.’

‘I know.’

‘I was wrong,’ he said. ‘You’re one of the most fearless. And the most courageous. You do what most of us dread, what most of us fear. I have never believed that violence was the answer to anything, but giving in to violence is not the answer either.’

‘Which is precisely what you’re doing with Epps,’ I said roughly.

He shook his head. ‘I have the responsibility of others on my shoulders,’ he said. ‘Their needs outweigh my own. But you would do what is right, and have the nerve to see it through.’ He paused, smiled. ‘Don’t doubt yourself, Charlie. You have good instincts. Trust them.’

‘You can say that, knowing what I’ve done?’

His eyes searched mine for a moment. I don’t know what he was looking for, but he seemed to find it. ‘It has always been my hope that if there is one thing people take away with them when they leave here, it is the courage of their convictions,’ he said, his voice very deep, almost resonant. ‘Quite often, it seems, they are prepared to die for what they believe in.’

‘Like Liam,’ I murmured.

‘Like Liam,’ he agreed. ‘But you have a rarer quality. You are prepared not just to die for what you believe in, but to kill for it. Why should that make you any less principled than they are?’

Unaccountably, my eyes started to fill and burn. His hand came up, thumb brushing the dent of my chin where it had begun to tremble.

With infinite gentleness, those long elegant fingers slipped around the base of my skull and tilted my head back. The brush of his lips over mine was little more than a whisper that raised a thunder of shouting. He’d stepped back before the echo of it died, leaving me adrift and utterly bewildered.

‘Now, go tell the others,’ Bane said quietly. ‘Ann will know what to do. I have certain arrangements to make, and we don’t have much time.’

I broke away, headed for the door.

‘Oh, and Charlie?’

I glanced back to find Bane seated at his desk, had begun writing on a plain piece of paper.

‘It has always been a source of great sorrow that I allowed Maria’s mother to push me away. I should have fought harder to stay with her. If I had, I might not have missed Maria’s childhood, her adolescence. I might have been there for her sooner. But I walked away in anger and pride. Don’t make the same mistake.’

‘I’ll try,’ I said, and went out, closing the door quietly behind me.

Detective ‘Ritz’ Gardner lay full-length in the dusty scrub, resting on her elbows, her voice coming out slightly muffled behind the set of night vision glasses.

‘I have
got
to get me some of these.’

‘Do many surveillance ops in total darkness, do you?’ I asked. ‘Any street lamps or artificial light and all you get is massive flare-out.’

‘Really?’ She sounded disappointed. ‘Still…’

The moon was coming and going behind high fast-moving cloud, giving patches of clarity amid the darkness. Far over to the west of us, Los Angeles glowed an angry orange that stained the heavens.

‘See anything yet?’

‘Not unless Epps’s guys are disguised as deer and gophers,’ she said, scanning. ‘What are we hoping to achieve out here, anyway?’

‘Honestly? Bugger all,’ I said. ‘But it’s better than sitting around inside waiting for them to come.’

And if they just decide to execute him, right here in the
desert, you’ll stand witness. A cop. Someone they’ll listen to. Someone with credibility
.

After the order from Epps to stay put, Gardner had stashed Yancy in the very cell I’d so recently occupied, and agreed to my suggestion that we ventured out to check for signs of a double-cross. She had retrieved her official body armour from the boot of her car, but I’d drawn the line when she lifted out the Mossberg pump-action shotgun.

‘If they get close enough for that thing to be any real use, we’re screwed anyway,’ I told her. ‘And besides, you have your standard side arm. Use that and you can claim self-defence. Anything else and it looks like premeditation.’

Reluctantly, I felt, she lay the shotgun back in the boot and tightened one of the Velcro straps for the vest, settled it on her shoulders. ‘What is it, exactly, you’re intending we should do?’

‘Watch for a double-cross,’ I said. ‘I trust Epps about as far as I could throw him.’

‘But they’re jamming the radios as well as the phones,’ Gardner pointed out, as we’d picked up the night vision goggles from the depleted security team and headed out into the scrubland beyond the compound fence. Her voice softened. ‘There won’t be anything you can do, Charlie.’

‘Oh, I’m sure we’ll think of something if we have to.’

Now, I swung my own NVGs across the approach road. It was like looking at an alien seabed through green-tinted water, ambient light artificially boosted so the picture was slightly out of kilter, ghostly. I panned across, half-expecting to see a scatter of fish suspended in mid-air, and stilled suddenly.

‘We’ve got movement,’ I said, refocusing. ‘Two vehicles, just turning in. Could be Suburbans.’

‘Uh-huh,’ Gardner murmured. ‘And right on time. Nice to see our tax dollars efficiently at work.’

I shifted to check the luminous dial on my watch, then realised the cheap replacement for my Tag did not have that facility. I wondered if I’d ever see the Tag – or Sean – again.

I remembered Bane’s words. Could we find a way past this? As the Suburbans rolled closer, leaving a plume of pale dust rising behind them into the night air, I felt a sudden tightness in my belly.

Not long now, and you’ll find out
…

And then, without warning, the tail of the lead Suburban bucked into the air in a ball of light and flame so hot and bright it blasted through the green spectrum and straight into hard, cold white. I’d already whipped the goggles away from my face as the sound of the explosion reached us.

By the fire, I watched the vehicle bounce down again and veer wildly, the driver fighting for control. I saw sparks from the ripped-out rear axle hitting rocks and stones as it skidded along the track.

Gardner squawked, ‘What the—?’

I didn’t answer, eyes fixed on the wrecked Suburban. As soon as it stopped moving, the doors were opening and a group of black-clad figures emerged. I counted four, some staggering, but all able to move under their own steam.

The driver of the second vehicle had already reacted, braking hard enough to slew sideways. A moment later, another team, obviously well armed, were debussing with experienced military haste.

‘What was that?’ Gardner’s voice was hoarse. ‘Was it a bomb? Who—?’

I pulled back my focus, saw another vivid blazing streak race in from the far right and hit the second vehicle amidships, turning it into an instant fireball.

‘No, it’s a bloody grenade launcher,’ I said, scrambling to my feet. ‘Come on!’

To her credit, Gardner was on her feet and only half a stride behind me. ‘Those are Epps’s people out there,’ she said, gasping as she ran. ‘Who in the hell is firing at them?’

That is what I want to find out
.

I clamped the goggles back to my face. The heavy green cast made identifying obstacles difficult and unfamiliar. We ran in halting steps, wary of falling. As we neared the scene, the light from the blazing vehicle made them almost ineffective anyway. At least we’d seen the men inside bail out before the second grenade hit, but I wasn’t interested in checking for casualties. They could do that for themselves.

With the homicide detective alongside me, we plunged deeper into the scrub.

I knew we weren’t looking for an expert, and that ruled out the rest of Fourth Day’s security, who were all ex-military of some type. They would have known to aim further forwards of the lead vehicle in order to hit it cleanly. I remembered the way the fire-trail seemed to hang in the air as it ran. Whoever was on the trigger badly miscalculated the relatively slow muzzle velocity of a rocket-propelled grenade.

If our shooter was an amateur, he wouldn’t have risked firing from the maximum effective distance for the weapon.
That meant he was close, and we could catch him.

Or her.

Even so, I was unprepared for how soon Gardner shouted, ‘Police! Drop your weapon! Drop your weapon and get down on the ground!’

The reply she received to her challenge was two sharp staccato barks from a small-calibre semi-automatic. We both ducked instinctively, hearing the high whine of the rounds disappearing into the night.

‘Shit,’ Gardner muttered. ‘There’s never any backup when you need it.’

‘Are you telling me you don’t carry a clinch piece?’

‘What, like a snub-nose thirty-eight in an ankle holster?’ she demanded in a savage whisper. ‘Tried it, my first month out of uniform. Throws your back out like you wouldn’t believe.’ I heard the grimace in her voice. ‘And I never needed it, ’til now.’

‘I’ll circle round, try and draw him out. You better be ready to take him down. Just try not to shoot me by mistake, Ritz. I’ve been there and done that, and it bloody hurts.’

‘OK,’ she said tightly.

‘And remember to shut your eyes when you fire, otherwise the muzzle flash will ruin your night vision.’

‘I’m not some damned rookie, Charlie! Just go, and let’s get this done.’

I cut away from her, not making any attempt at stealth, sweeping round in a long looping arc designed to flush our assailant out of cover, just noisy enough to be a tempting target. It occurred to me, too late to do anything about it, that I should have asked if Gardner had any qualms when it came to pulling the trigger. Many cops, I knew, never got to
fire their weapons in anger during the entire length of their career. Just because LA had over four hundred homicides in a year didn’t mean Gardner herself was willing to add to that number.

I hoped the evidence of murderous intent, still blazing fiercely over to our left, would silence any last flutterings of conscience.

I paused, closed my eyes as if to divert auxiliary power to my still-dodgy hearing, heard a shuffle off to one side. My eyes snapped open. I caught a flicker of shape between me and the fire and was already ducking when the blow came.

It still landed across my shoulders hard enough to blast the air from my lungs, drop me to my knees. I twisted as I went down, flung up an arm and deflected a second blow away to the side. He was using something long and heavy, already pulling back for a third swing. I couldn’t survive much more of this.

For God’s sake, what are you waiting for?

‘Drop it! Drop it!’ Gardner’s voice was tight with tension as she came forwards. ‘Down on the ground!’

I felt the dirt kick up in my face as my attacker obeyed the command and dropped whatever he’d used to clobber me, but I saw his hands move, saw the glint in them, and yelled, ‘Gun!’

Still Gardner hesitated. The gun in the man’s hands – and I was damned sure it was a man now – jerked as he fired. It all seemed to happen very slowly. I saw the shaft of flame spit from the end of the barrel as the action cycled. The empty brass came spinning out of the eject port and I flinched as it bounced against my neck,
marking me instantly with a small cigarette-end burn.

The report was a painful crack that exploded in my tender ears, so I didn’t immediately register the two shots Gardner fired in return.

But I heard him grunt as both rounds took him in the torso, heard the dull thump of the gun landing in the dirt next to me. I fumbled at the shadowed ground, snatching the weapon up, but knew at once I didn’t need to use it.

Gardner stumbled forwards, eyes made wide and wild by the fire, found me bending over the fallen figure.

‘Did I…?’

‘Near enough,’ I said curtly, feeling my way along his body. He was vibrating with fear and pain and the rapid onset of shock. The whole of his chest was greasy with blood, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

Gardner dragged out a pen flashlight and clicked it on, cupping her hand around the bulb to keep it shielded. She panned across his body, faltering as the beam caught the shine of the blood, the rattle and the shake, and settled on his face. As soon as I saw it, I knew him. I think I probably knew him before then anyway.

Tony. Dexter’s comrade from Debacle. What he hoped to gain from this, I had no idea. Gardner’s flashlight beam clipped the edge of the weapon he’d used to clobber me and I saw it was an M16 with the M203 grenade launcher slung under the barrel. Twentieth-century weapon transformed into Neanderthal-era club in the blink of an eye.

The M203’s 40 mm projectile had an effective range of a hundred and fifty metres and a muzzle velocity of only around seventy-five metres a second. A fraction of the speed that a 5.56 mm round would have left the assault
rifle the launcher was attached to. The same guns and the same launchers I’d seen stacked in boxes in the subterranean storerooms. The guns the fake-faithful Yancy was supposed to have destroyed.

 ‘Why?’ I asked.

Tony bared bloodied teeth. ‘The money,’ he gasped. ‘Why else?’

Noises off made Gardner and I both start, eyes raking the surrounding gloom. ‘They’re coming,’ I said, rising. ‘We have to go.’

‘But, we can’t just leave him,’ she protested.

‘They’ll take care of him,’ I said, mentally crossing my fingers as my mind put several connotations on the words. ‘Even if we could get him back to the compound without killing him, we can’t treat him there. Leave him. Now!’

And without a backward glance at the men from the two wrecked Suburbans, now advancing on our position, we ran.