The In Death Collection Books 6-10 - J. D. Robb [111]
She saw McNab exit the elevator into the lobby. Still steamed, she thought, noting his grim face and stiff posture. He was going to have to learn the value of teamwork. She watched him scan the lobby, and did so herself.
A droid walked a pair of silky, long-haired dogs across the colorful tiles. A woman in a severe black business suit sat on the circular bench surrounding the central fountain and snarled into a palm ’link. A bellman guided an electric cart loaded with luggage toward the main doors. A woman came through them, leading a toy poodle on a silver leash. Both woman and dog were sleekly groomed, with matching silver bows decking their hair. Behind her came a domestic droid loaded down with shopping bags and boxes.
Rich tourist, Eve thought. Early Christmas shopping.
Then she saw him. He came in directly behind the droid, wearing the long dark coat, a chauffeur’s cap pulled low, sunshades concealing his eyes. “He’s in.” She barely breathed it. “Possible target entering through main doors. Male, five-ten, black coat, gray hat, sunshades. He’s carrying a black valise. Team leaders copy?”
“Copy that, Lieutenant. In sights. Suspect is taking palm ’link from left coat pocket, moving left of fountain now.”
Then it all went wrong. The poodle started it. Eve saw that for herself. The little dog began to bark manically, broke from her mistress and streaked, yapping and snarling, toward the pair of Afghans.
A vicious little battle ensued, full of noise and fury. In her rush to save her poodle, the woman with the silver ribbons raced over the tiles and shoved past the businesswoman who’d risen to watch the commotion, nearly sending her into the fountain.
The businesswoman’s palm ’link went flying and cracked directly between the surprised eyes of a cop in bellman’s gear. He went down like a felled tree.
There were screams and curses, a major crash when one of the participants rammed a table holding a duet of crystal vases. Three bellmen dashed to assist, the first to arrive receiving a slash of canine teeth for his trouble. One of the Afghans bounded clear and raced toward the main doors and escape.
The dog caught McNab at the back of the knees and sent him headlong into the door he’d just been approaching. Outside it, Eve saw one of her men reach under his doorman’s coat for his weapon.
“Keep your weapons out of view. Goddamn it, don’t draw your weapons. It’s a fucking dogfight.”
But she saw, because her attention was focused on the target throughout the thirty-second battle, the exact moment they were made. The palm ’link was shoved back in his pocket, his stance went stiff with shock, and he bolted.
“He’s made us. Suspect is proceeding on foot to the south entrance. Block south entrance,” she ordered as she ran from the suite and toward the elevator. “Repeat. Block the south entrance. Suspect’s rabbiting, consider him armed and dangerous.” She didn’t bother to glance over when Roarke pushed into the elevator with her.
“He’s nearly to the doors,” Roarke told her, and she saw now that he’d had the foresight to grab up one of the minimonitors.
“Ellsworth, your location’s hot.”
“I see him, Dallas. I’ve got him.”
The instant the elevator doors opened, she was streaking across the lobby. Ellsworth was inside the south doors, and out cold. “Tranq’d him. Jesus.” She pulled her weapon and went through the doors.
“Suspect is out of controlled area. I’ve got an officer down at the south entrance. Suspect is on foot—”
She heard the scream as she raced for the corner. He was dragging a woman out of a car. Even as Eve reached the curb and brought up her weapon, he’d tossed her onto the street and had dived behind the wheel.
Pivoting, she pounded to the sportster she’d parked at the entrance.
“I’ll drive.” Roarke beat her to the car by a stride. “I know the car better.”
With no time to argue, she jumped into the passenger seat. “Suspect’s jacked a vehicle, is heading east on Seventy-fourth in a white minijet,