Judge & Jury - James Patterson [56]
“For the moment,” Nordeshenko said. “Now all we have to worry about is getting off this island.”
Chapter 68
I RAN OUT to the street and stood there—staring helplessly as the black Bronco sped away. There was no way I could stop it. I watched it turn at the corner, melding into traffic, then disappear from sight.
Every muscle in my body seemed to shrink and collapse; I’d never felt more useless in my entire life. Two police cars started after them, having to navigate around some delivery truck blocking the street. But it was too late.
I ran back to the courthouse and flashed my ID at a startled cop, grabbing his radio. “This is Special Agent Nicholas Pellisante of the FBI. Dominic Cavello has escaped from the federal courthouse in Foley Square. He is traveling east on Worth in a black Bronco, unidentifiable plates, headed toward Chinatown. Suspects have fired shots. There are multiple casualties.”
A dead patrolman lay crumpled on the pavement. He looked no older than twenty-five. Stunned pedestrians were rushing out of the courthouse. Most had their hands to their faces. Trying to cover up the shock?
I rushed back through the doors and into the courthouse. EMS techs were already administering to one of the fallen guards. Meachem was there, the captain. He was ashen-faced. Some useless police chatter began to trickle in. I felt the urge to slam the radio up against the wall and watch it shatter.
I didn’t know where to go, except back inside the security office. Special Agent Michael Doud was in there. He was in charge of the FBI’s on-site security team, and he was already playing back video from the bloody scene in the elevator.
“I saw the getaway car,” I told him. “Black Bronco. I couldn’t see the plates. There are two security marshals down out front.”
Doud took a deep breath. “I’ve got the mayor’s office on the line. And the chief of police. There’s an emergency order to block all tunnels and bridges out of Manhattan. Everything’s on the highest crisis alert. They shouldn’t be able to get off the island.”
“Don’t bet on it,” I said, and gritted my teeth.
I sat down and slammed my fist against a nearby table in frustration. All of a sudden I felt a tremendous draining of strength. What the hell? I placed my hand against my ribs. The feeling was slick and warm.
Jesus, Nick.
I was bleeding like a stuck pig.
Chapter 69
DOUD’S EYES MET MINE. We both looked down at my blood dripping onto the floor.
“Sonovabitch,” I said. Then I opened my jacket. There was a wide circle of blood seeping through my shirt.
“Get EMS in here, now!” Doud shouted to one of the security men.
“Good idea.” I nodded, sagging back against the wall.
A shout came over the radio. “I think we’ve got a fix on them.” It was the open line to the mayor’s crisis center. A black Bronco had been spotted turning off Tenth Avenue, feeding into the entrance for the Lincoln Tunnel, heading to New Jersey.
“We’ve got the entrance covered,” the voice from the crisis center declared. “Port Authority’s got SWAT in place there.”
Through the phone lines, we were able to patch in a video feed from the crisis center. Above us, one of the monitors began showing a wide sweep from a camera overlooking the tunnel. The black Bronco was about tenth in line. “There it is!” All of a sudden the camera zoomed in tighter. The traffic was funneling into two lanes.
I held my side, but I wasn’t going anywhere right now. I could make out the black Bronco. The same one? It sure looked like it.
“Suspect vehicle has Jersey plates. EVX-three-six-nine,” a voice announced over the radio.
For a second I was caught up like everyone else, just hoping we had managed to land on the right vehicle. Then a thought flashed through my mind. I grabbed a microphone off the table.
“This is Special Agent Pellisante. These people likely have automatic weapons and explosives. The car could be booby-trapped. Cavello might not even be in there anymore. The SWAT teams should do their best to isolate the vehicle.”
My