Collateral Damage - Marc Cerasini [80]
"Get out or I'll shoot."
Dang, thought Leroy, this dude ain't nothing like the Wall Street yuppies I sell to in Hoboken!
Lifting his arms, Leroy showed his hands. He was too afraid to look the man in the eyes, so he tried to check him out in the mirror. He saw dark hair, sideburns, a soul patch.
"You gotta be a cop, right?"
"How many cops would blow your head off for this car?" said the dude. "Now get out or I will kill you. And leave the keys."
Keeping his eyes to the dirty pavement, Leroy stepped out of the car, gingerly avoiding the body on the ground.
"Listen, man," Leroy said, "you don't know who you're messin' with..."
The gun butt struck him on the chin. Leroy flew backward, bounced off the Explorer's door, and sank to the ground beside the other crack dealer.
Tony Almeida stepped over them and climbed behind the wheel. He honked the car's horn twice, paused, and honked again.
Hearing the signal, Judith Foy appeared a moment later.
"Two at a time. And you make it look easy," she said, stepping over the unconscious punks.
Tony glanced away. "Yeah."
The woman climbed into the passenger seat, buckled her shoulder strap. Tires squealing, the Explorer pulled away from the curb and raced down Crampton Street.
* * *
2:06:13 A.M. EDT
Eighth Floor, BeresfieId Apartments
Central Park West
New York, New York
Slipping a .38 from its holster, Montel Tanner pushed through the broken door. His bodyguards followed, clutching .45s that looked tiny in their huge fists. They immediately heard the sound of something scraping across the floor.
Tanner reached the living room first — and stopped in his tracks.
He saw the wrecked chamber, the broken glass, Erno Tobias tied to a heavy leather chair. The Albino was obviously dead, but the chair was moving, sliding across the blood-slick floor and through the shattered sliding door.
Tanner blinked in shock. "What the f..."
The chair scraped across the balcony's flagstones, then jammed to a stop against the balcony railing, the pale corpse falling limply over the chair arm. That's when Tanner saw the nylon rope tied to the chair, the other end dangling over the edge of the balcony.
"He's climbing down the side of the building!" Tanner shouted. "Get him."
Tanner's bodyguards blundered forward, jumping through the shattered frame of the sliding door, while Tanner himself stayed in the living room and hit speed dial on his cell phone.
As the first bodyguard peered over the balcony's iron railing, Tanner heard a pop and saw the top of the man's head explode. The big bodyguard fell backward, pitching to the flagstone floor. Tanner clutched the cell to his ear.
"Pick it up, damn it."
"Yo," his driver answered at last.
"There's a guy climbing down the side of the building. I want him — alive."
Tanner moved to the railing, carefully looked down. Tobias's murderer was already past the Caddies parked in the street. He'd crossed all four lanes of Central Park West and was now hopping over a stone fence. A split-second later, he melted into the shadows, escaping into the wooded expanse of Manhattan's largest park.
Too late, Tanner's men tumbled out of the Caddies below.
"He's gone into the park!" Tanner shouted into the phone. "Go after him!"
The men drew their weapons and followed Tanner's orders.
* * *
2:14:26 A.M. EDT
Central Park, near Columbus Circle
Jack Bauer was outnumbered and outgunned, but that didn't bother him. During his training as a lieutenant in the Combat Applications Group — a.k.a. Delta Force — he'd learned night combat tactics from instructors of the Seventy-fifth Army Ranger Battalion, an outfit whose credo was "We own the night."
Now, Jack moved from shadow to shadow, hearing Sergeant Ryder's voice in his head. Evade. Encircle. Move in. Take 'em down.
Behind him, a deserted road ran through this section of Central Park. Jack could hear Montel Tanner's men blundering along it.
Untrained and undisciplined, they made