The In Death Collection Books 16-20 - J. D. Robb [449]
“Good. Good point. We need to assume he’s in there, just as we need to assume he’s armed and dangerous. The building’s full of civilians. We need to move them out.”
Feeney, who’d continued to work on McCoy’s data unit throughout the briefing, finally glanced up. “You want to clear out a twenty-two-story building?”
“Yeah. Without Bissel knowing it. Which means first we should verify he’s in there. Don’t want to clear it out while he’s around the corner picking up a sandwich at the deli. So let’s figure out how to verify, then how to clear out the civilians.”
Feeney puffed out a breath. “She don’t ask for much. Side note: I’ve got some data out of this. Reads like a diary. Enough sex stuff with who she calls BB to make a seasoned LC blush.” He colored a bit himself when he glanced toward Reva. “Sorry.”
“It’s not a problem. Not a problem,” she repeated in three viciously bitten off words. “He lied to me, screwed around on me, he tried to frame me for murder. Why should knowing some poor little twit romped around naked—”
She paused, breathed deep when the room remained silent but for the machine. “Okay, I’m making it a problem by trying to prove it’s not. Let me put it this way.” She looked at Tokimoto now. Directly. “Love can die. It can be killed, no matter how alive it was, it’s not invulnerable. Mine’s dead. It’s dead and it’s buried. I just want one thing more, and that’s the chance to look him in the face and tell him he’s nothing. If I can do that one thing, it’ll be enough.”
“I’ll make sure you have the chance,” Eve promised. “Now, how do we get him?”
“A bomb scare would clear it, but there’d be injuries,” Peabody decided. “People panic, especially when you tell them not to. And even soundproofed, he’d get wind of it.”
“Not if you go floor by floor.” Eve paced as she thought it through. “Not a bomb scare. An electrical problem? Something that irritates but doesn’t panic.”
“A potential leak—hazardous waste, chemicals. And keep it vague,” Roarke suggested. “Floor-by-floor evac will take considerable time, and a great many cops.”
“I don’t want to pull any more into this than necessary. A small, tight unit of the Crisis Team for backup. Move fast, keep it smooth, and we can evac in under an hour. We box him in, that’s what we do. We box him in.” She stopped, studied the diagram again. “Three exits on the studio?”
“That’s correct. Main corridor, elevator to lobby, and the cargo elevator to the roof.”
“No glides on the Flatiron, that’s a plus.”
“And more aesthetically pleasing,” Roarke added.
“We block off the elevators. We can bring in a unit from CT on the roof. And we come in from the corridor after he’s boxed. If we can get him in this end, the narrow end, he won’t have much room to maneuver. We work out the tacticals on this space, and we work out tacticals on the studio. And on the space below. He might be in there. But we need to know where he is when we go in, and we need to blindfold him to the fact we’re coming.”
“We can do that.”
She angled her head, looked down at Roarke. “Can we?”
“Mmm.” He took her hand and, watching her horrified expression, brought it smoothly to his lips before she could jerk it free. “The lieutenant doesn’t like me to nibble on her when she’s coordinating an op. So I can never resist.”
“There’s just too much sex around here,” Feeney grumbled from his station.
“How can we verify his position inside the building and blindfold him?” Eve demanded with what she considered admirable patience.
“Why don’t you work out your tacticals and leave those pesky details to me. Reva, how much time do you need to shut down the security and undermine the monitors in this sector of the building?”
Brow creased, Reva fisted her hands on her hips. “I’ll let you know after I study the specs.”
“You’ll have them in a minute. I’ll need a