Operation Hell Gate - Marc Cerasini [103]
"Take off the gag," growled Griffin Lynch. "She can scream her bloody head off and nobody will hear her up here."
Omar Bayat ripped the gag away, Caitlin rubbed her bruised lips. "What do you want with me, you bleedin' sod? Why don't you just kill me and be done with it?"
Griff grabbed Caitlin's chin, gripped it in his scarred but still bruising hand. "Never fear, lass. You'll die soon enough. When it's good and dark out here, I'm gonna toss you off this bridge. With luck your corpse won't wash ashore for a week, and by then Shamus and me will be long gone, while you join your dead brother in hell."
Caitlin's jaw dropped.
"That's right, girl. I sent Shamus to kill your brother and he agreed to do it. Serves your boy right for messing up the delivery to Taj. His fuck up forced me out to this bloody bridge when me and Shamus should have been halfway to the Islands by now. At least it's good to know Liam's probably been blasted into dust already."
For a moment, Caitlin's heart stopped. But then she realized that Griff's words were all wrong. Shamus was the one who'd died in the explosion. Her own Liam had escaped and turned himself in. He was in police protective custody now. She was about to tell Griff as much, but quickly choked back the words. It was better if Griff thought her brother was already dead. Then Liam could go on living his life, safe and sound and hopefully happy... even without his big sister to kick his ass and trim his bangs. Yes, Caitlin thought, Liam is alive. He's all right. He's protected. That realization alone gave her the strength she needed to face her own death.
Her eyes flashed defiantly. She pushed Griffs hand away from her face. "Ya talk big, Griffin Lynch. But like all the Provos, you're good for pushing violence and nothing more."
A brief, disgusted smile flashed across Griffs stone cold expression. "I can't wait to kill you, girl. But at least your death will be fast and clean — more than I can say for the rest of the folks in this city."
Caitlin choked back her fears. Over Griffs shoulder, the blazing rays of the setting sun were now touching every particle in the air, spreading their red-orange tinge until the entire horizon appeared as if someone had set it on fire. That's when she realized what Griff and his associates had been erecting — a missile launcher, its ominous silhouette pointed at the sky.
24
THE FOLLOWING TAKES PLACE BETWEEN THE HOURS OF 8 P.M. AND 9 P.M. EASTERN DAYLIGHT TIME
8:05:53 P.M. EDT
Hell Gate Bridge
Thanks to the GPS beacon in the watch Caitlin wore, Jack knew where to go. He found the fenced-off area on Nineteenth Street. He found the garage, the van, and the ladder.
"Where is she now?" Jack said into his headset.
"In the middle of the bridge, Jack, facing south. The blip hasn't moved for several minutes." Jamey's voice was tense. Jack knew what she was thinking — were they going to throw Caitlin off the bridge?
"I'm going up right now," said Jack. "I'm taking the earphones out but I'm leaving this channel open. You'll be able to hear me, but I won't be able to hear you."
"Is that a good idea, Jack?" Ryan asked.
Nina answered for him. "Jack will need all his senses on that bridge."
Ryan frowned. "Well, good luck, Bauer."
Jack did not reply.
Crouching low, he reached under the van, rubbed road dirt and oil on his hands, then on his face. It wasn't exactly camouflage but it would help him fade into the darkness on the bridge — he hoped.
Jack drew the Mark 23 USP, checked the magazine, his extra ammunition. Then he tucked the weapon in the holster under his arm, yanked the earphones out and began to climb.
It took him more than five minutes of climbing to get to the top. By the time he reached the span it was twilight; the sun had dropped below the horizon. The park beneath him was shrouded in purple shadows, broken by tiny islands of light under glowing lampposts.
Without a watch, Jack used his PDA to check the time. He had less than thirty minutes to find the terrorists and stop the missile