He then moved to the preacher curls and did drop-sets until exhaustion. He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket: it was his secretary.
“Yeah, what’s up?”
“Internal Affairs is here, Danny. They want to speak with you.”
“Well tell ‘em I’m at the gym. They can come back later.”
“They said it’s urgent. They wanted your cell number but I told them I would just call you.”
“All right, gimmie thirty.”
Danny saw the young woman glance over to him again. He wanted to go over and speak to her but was short on time. IAD would show up at his house if he didn’t meet with them at the office. He’d always had an impression of them as piranhas. Cannibal piranhas. They were necessary to prevent corruption, but the people that were corrupt usually came out of or went into IAD.
He showered and changed into jeans and a zip-up Polo shirt, letting his badge dangle on the chain around his neck. He got into his Nissan truck and drove down the road before hopping on the interstate. Northern was buzzing with activity by the time he got there. He parked out back and walked in. Two men in suits sat inside his office.
Childs threw his gymbag behind his desk and sat down.
“What do you want, Matt?” he said.
One of the men took out a piece of gum and unwrapped it. “Gum?”
“No thanks. Now what the fuck do you want?”
“We’ve gotten some complaints on one of your detectives.”
“I’m sure you have. Which detective?”
“Jon Stanton.”
“Stanton? What was the complaint?”
“Sexual harassment of a bar manager and assault against one of the bouncers.”
Childs chuckled. “Have you seen Jon Stanton? I promise you he couldn’t assault no bouncer.”
“Well that’s not what his partner said.”
“Stephen Gunn told you Stanton assaulted a bouncer?”
“Among other things. We’re doing this as a courtesy, Danny. We don’t need to alert the supervising officer. He can contact his union rep if he wants and come in with them but we want some time with him.”
“Jon Stanton’s the best cop I got. I’d prefer if you sunk your teeth into someone else.”
“Like who?”
“How about the fucking chief of police? I heard he’s got a thing for working girls.”
Matt grew uncomfortable and glanced to his partner. “When Stanton comes back let us know. We’ll be around.”
He left one of his cards and Childs picked it up and tossed it in the trash.
CHAPTER 49
Stanton stood in front of the old house with the pointed roof and considered calling the SWAT team right now, after he’d put a bullet in each of the man’s ankles to make sure he was adequately slowed down. But he thought of Emma, tied up in some basement in the dark. Slowly starving to death over the coming weeks. The thought caused him pain, physical pain that wrenched his guts. He glanced around and said, “Let’s go.”
They walked up the path to the home and the man used a key to get in. The house was empty except for a few beer cans and used hypodermic needles. An old, stained sleeping bag was in one corner and it had developed crisscrossing spiderwebs. The house smelled like dirt and urine and Stanton had the urge to snort to get the scent out of his nostrils.
“The basement,” the man said.
Stanton followed him to a door. The man opened it and revealed a long set of stairs going down into the dark. He flipped a light and a single lightbulb turned on downstairs, illuminating their way just enough that they might not fall.
The basement was cool and humid; it was empty as well except for several cardboard boxes and two monitors in the center of the room. They were hooked up to a laptop and Stanton had difficulty seeing the images from where he was standing. He lifted his gun to the man’s back. “Keep moving,” he said.
Coming to the center of the basement, Stanton could see the images clearly now. On one monitor was a family. A male, female, and four children. They were tied at the waist with what looked like some sort of rope and the children were crying.
On the other screen, was Emma. She was tied and gagged.
“Where is she?”
“Guess.”
“Tell me where she is, now.”
“You have a choice. Emma and the family are both surrounded with gallons of napalm. There’s a lit fuse working its way around the space at their locations. It’s got…” He checked his watch. “It’s got twenty-five minutes before it reaches the napalm. Each of their addresses are twenty minutes away. One is north and the other is south. You can only save one of them, Jon.”
Stanton grabbed the man and spun him around, bashing his elbow into his face. The man flew off his feet and Stanton was on him. He struck him once more in the face with his fist and pinned the man down with one hand as he put his firearm on the man’s cheek.
“Tell me where she is.”
“Fine,” he said, laughing as blood poured from his nose, “but then I won’t tell you where the family is. Mr. and Mrs. Westfall and their four beautiful children. Too bad, one of the kids was getting straight A’s and might’ve gotten a scholarship to college.”
Stanton grabbed the man’s collar and lifted him up toward himself. “You’re going to tell me everything.”
“No, I’m not. Here’s the real fun part, Jon. If you save the family, you’ll never forgive yourself. What if Emma was the one you were supposed to spend your life with and you let her fry? But if you save Emma, you can never be with her. Your relationship would be tainted. Every time she looked at you it would remind her of me. Eventually, the sight of you would fill her with dread.”
Stanton knew it was true and it sickened him. He sat up and gripped his Desert Eagle with both hands, steadying them.
“Yes,” the man whispered, “do it. Do it.”
Stanton’s hands began to shake.
“Do it, do it do it do it,” the man hissed.
Images flashed through his mind. Images of the men he had killed in the line of duty. Evil men that couldn’t be stopped any other way. It was war, and in war killing was inevitable. It always had been. But this wasn’t war. The man was lying helpless on the ground, blood pooling around his head from a broken nose.
“No, I won’t kill you,” Stanton said.
The man spit a glob of bloody phlegm and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “You still have to choose. Tick tock tick tock.”
Stanton looked to the screens. He saw the faces contorted in pain and anguish. It tore his heart out to see tears streaming down the cheeks of the children and the parents that were helpless to comfort him. Emma was hunched over, defeated. Her hair stuck to her face from tears or blood or both. She looked to the camera and then away. Her eyes were already dead; her hope had been taken from her.
“No,” Stanton whispered.
“What?”
“No. I won’t choose. I won’t play games with you.”
“They’ll all die and it’s your fault.”
“No, it’s not. If they die, then they have to die. It’s God’s will, not mine. But you’ll die too. In a gas chamber with me looking in your eyes through the glass.”
“Make a fucking choice,” he spit out.
“No. Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
The man roared in frustration, and leapt to his feet at Stanton like an animal. He tackled him over the equipment and they hit the ground hard. The man struck him twice and Stanton grabbed him by the collar and flipped him over. The man brought up a knee into his groin and then spun to his stomach, pushing himself up with his arms. Stanton brought up the firearm but the man had already spun around and brought his forearm down against it, sweeping it away and to the floor.
Stanton tried to strike him with an elbow and the man ducked and took him down to his back again. Stanton wrapped his legs around the man’s hips and tried to prevent him from having a good position above him. He lifted his hips and they spun on the ground. Stanton jumped up but lost his balance and stumbled backward as the man crawled on all fours and grabbed his legs, lifting them and causing Stanton to fall back against the wall.