The In Death Collection Books 16-20 - J. D. Robb [659]
“They’re both down.”
Now she did pale. “Down, sir?”
“DOS.” His face was grim, his voice was flat. “Security was compromised. Both officers were terminated. Report to the scene immediately.”
“Yes, sir. Commander, the other locations—”
“Additional units have been dispatched. Reports are coming in. I’ll meet you on-scene.”
When the screen went blank, she sat just as she was. Sat just as she was when Roarke came around the desk to lay his hand on her shoulder.
“I hand-picked them. Preston and Knight. Because they were good, solid cops. Good instincts. If there was going to be a hit on one of the locations, I wanted solid cops with good instincts covering them.”
“I’m sorry, Eve.”
“Didn’t have to move a wit from that location. Didn’t have anybody there, but it was one of the addresses Newman should have known, so it had to be covered. She’s dead, too, by now. Stone dead. Tally’s up to eight.”
She rose then, checked her weapon harness. “Two good cops. I’m going to hunt them down like dogs.”
She didn’t argue when he said he was going with her. She wanted him behind the wheel until she was more sure of her control.
As she jogged down the stairs, pulled her jacket on, Nixie came out into the foyer. “You’re supposed to come to dinner now.”
“We have to go out.” There was a firestorm raging in Eve’s head she’d yet to be able to shut down to cold.
“Out to dinner?”
“No.” Roarke stepped to Nixie, brushed a hand lightly over her hair. “The lieutenant has work. I’m going to help, but we’ll be back as soon as we can.”
She looked at him, then focused on Eve. “Is somebody else dead?”
She started to fob it off, even to lie, but decided on truth. “Yes.”
“What if they come while you’re gone? What if the bad guys come when you’re not here? What—”
“They can’t get in.” Roarke said it so simply it could be taken as nothing less than fact. “And look here.” He took a small ’link out of his pocket as he crouched down to her level. “You keep this. If you’re afraid, you should tell Summerset or one of the police we have in the house. But if you can’t tell them, you push this. Do you see?”
She moved closer, her blonde hair brushing his black. “What does it do?”
“It will signal me. You can push this, and my ’link will beep twice, and I’ll know it’s you, and you’re afraid. But don’t use it unless you really have to. All right?”
“Can I push it now, to see if it works?”
He turned his head to smile at her. “A very good idea. Go ahead.”
She pressed her finger on the button he’d shown her, and the ’link still in his pocket beeped twice. “It works.”
“It does, yes. It’ll fit right in your pocket. There.” He slipped it in for her, then straightened. “We’ll be back as soon as we can.”
Summerset was there, of course, hovering a few feet back in the hall. Roarke sent him their own signal as he put on his coat. “Lieutenant,” he said, turning. “I’m with you.”
When Summerset stepped forward to take Nixie’s hand, she waited until the door shut. “Why does he call her ‘Lieutenant’? Why doesn’t he call her ‘Dallas’ like most everybody else?”
“It’s a kind of endearment between them.” He gave Nixie’s hand a little squeeze. “Why don’t we eat in the kitchen tonight?”
It wasn’t rage. Eve wasn’t sure there was a word for what gripped the throat, the belly, the head, the bowels when you looked down at the slaughter of men you’d sent into battle. Men you’d sent to their death.
Going down in the line was a risk they all took. But knowing that didn’t loosen the grip, not when she’d been the one to give them their last orders.
The other cops were quiet, a silent wall. The scene had been secured. Now it was up to her.
The safe house was a post–Urban Wars construction. Cheap, never meant to last. But it had stood, a narrow box of two stories, bumped up against a few more narrow boxes that were all dwarfed and outclassed by the sturdiness of the buildings that had survived the wars, and the sleekness of those built since the hurried, harried aftermath.
She knew the city had bought this, and others, on the cheap. Maintained them