With no chance for a clear shot, she ran in pursuit as Yost surged south, knocking bystanders aside, dodging his way into the street and into traffic.
"Hold fire! Hold fire!" One ill-aimed blast, and civilians would be hit.
For a big man, he moved fast, and he moved smooth. He swung west at the next corner, dragging a glide-cart over with brute strength. It tumbled into Eve's path, spilling its guts over street and sidewalk and causing its operator to shriek.
Rather than skirting it, she jumped on, took one running step over its side and, using it as a springboard, leaped.
The momentum bought her half the distance.
"Crossing to Third. Vehicular backup! Give me vehicular backup. I am in pursuit of suspect, and crossing Third at Twenty-second."
To free her hand, she jammed the communicator in her pocket, bore down, and made another leap.
She caught Yost mid-body. It was like hitting a slab of reinforced steel. She'd have sworn her bones rattled. But the tackle took him down to one knee. Before he could shove her aside and scramble up, she had her weapon pressed to the pulse in his throat.
Where it was lethal.
"Do you want to die?" she asked. "Want to die on the street like a sidewalk sleeper?"
Even as Yost raised his hands, she heard feet pounding behind her. McNab, sweat streaming down his face, chest heaving, moved into position, his weapon aimed at Yost's head.
"He's covered, Lieutenant."
"On your face, Sly. Spread them."
"There seems to be some mistake," Yost began. "My name is Giovanni – "
"On the ground." She pushed up with her weapon. "Belly down, or my finger's going to slip."
He spread himself out on the sidewalk, arms twitching as she yanked them back to cuff his wrists.
It couldn't be, was all he could think. It couldn't end for him like this, facedown on the street like a common criminal. "I want an attorney."
"Yeah, I'm real worried about your rights and obligations right now." She dug in his pockets, came out with an empty pressure syringe. And a length of slim silver wire. "Well, well, look what I found."
"An attorney," he repeated in his high voice. "I insist on being treated with respect."
"Yeah?" She stood up, planted her boot on his thick neck. "You be sure to tell the guards and your fellow inmates at Penal Station Omega you insist on respect. They don't get a lot of laughs up there. Call for a cooler, McNab. I want this guy on ice."
"Yes, sir. Dallas? Your nose is bleeding."
"Bashed it into him with the tackle." She swiped at it with the back of her hand, looked down at the bright red in disgust. "Jacoby?"
"I don't know. I had to jump over him to pursue. I think Stowe stayed back with him."
"It's her collar, McNab."
"Aw, jeez, Dallas."
"That's how it is. You're out of shape, Detective. Start spending some time in the gym so you don't pant like a dog when you run a few blocks."
She nodded as black-and-whites screamed to the curb and members of the tactical team streamed down the sidewalk. "Here's your ride, Sly."
He looked up, saw her face, saw the faces of onlookers who tried to crowd in and stare. "I should have killed you first."
"Yeah, there's that hindsight thing. Hold this asshole for Special Agent Karen Stowe. He's hers. I'm Mirandizing him on her behalf." She crouched down, waited until Yost looked into her eyes.
"Winifred Gates was a friend of Agent Stowe's. I'm doing this for her. You're under arrest for assault, battery, sexual assault, and the murder by contract of various individuals whose names will be listed at the time of your booking. And that's just in this state. I'm tossing in resisting arrest, assault on a federal officer, destruction of property, and fleeing the scene of a crime. Interpol and Global will be right behind me with their party favors. You have the right, you miserable son of a bitch, to remain silent."
Eve walked back toward Second Avenue favoring her left shoulder. She'd jammed it hard against Yost's kidney area and it ached like a bad tooth. Her nose was throbbing in counterpoint and felt as if it had spread across her face and into her ears.
She'd have plunked down a hundred dollars for a bag of ice.
"Sir!" Peabody sprinted to the corner, took one look at Eve's face and winced. "Ow."
"Am I messed up?" Eve lifted hesitant fingers to her nose. Hissed.
"Just a little swollen. It'd be worse if you'd broke it. Looks like it bled really good."
"Which explains why small children ran screaming when I passed by. Where's Stowe?"
"Inside. We got the word you brought Yost down. Sir, I would have pursued as backup, but McNab ordered me to stay, and Agent Jacoby was down."
"You did right, so did McNab. What's the status on Jacoby?"
"I don't know. Stowe's in contact with the MTs. Yost caught him with a pressure syringe, heavy barbs, dead in the heart. Dallas, he went down like a tree under the ax. By the time Stowe and I got to him, his heart had stopped. We administered CPR, and the MTs' response was fast. They zapped him, got a rhythm. He was still unconscious when they took him off-scene."
"Even blind ambition and gross stupidity don't deserve a stopped heart. Stand by, Peabody. Keep this area clear. No statements to the media at this time."
Eve swung inside. Trina's helpful friend was sitting on the floor, her head back, and what looked like about ten ounces of red wine in a water glass. She gave Eve a wavery smile and kept sipping steadily.
"Are you all right? Do you need medical attention?"
She held up the glass. "This is all the medical attention I need. I'm going to drink this, go home, and sleep for eight hours."
"I'll arrange your transportation. You know it's essential you speak to no one about what happened here this morning until you're cleared to do so."
"Yeah, you drilled me." She studied Eve's face. "I got some products that'll help with that swelling and bruising. It's great for after major face and body sculpting work. You want some free samples?"
"I'm okay. Where's Agent Stowe?"
"In the back."
"Don't go anywhere," Eve told her, then pushed through into the storeroom.
Stowe paced a line through the boxes as she talked on her pocket-link. "Keep me apprised of his status. You can reach me at this number at all times. Thanks."
"Jacoby?" Eve asked.
"In a coma." Stowe shoved the 'link in her pocket. "Critical. His heart – they may have to try to replace it. He took a direct hit. Clicked him off like a switch. I should have gone with him. He's my partner. I wanted to see you. Needed to tell you. I didn't tip Jacoby. He must have sensed something was up and tailed me. I didn't tell him about this. I didn't break faith with you."
"If I thought you had, I wouldn't have Yost on ice waiting for you to book and interview."
Stowe turned and faced Eve. "You tracked him, set up the op, and you took him down. It's your collar, Dallas."
"We made a deal. You stuck to yours, I stuck to mine. He's at Central, maximum holding. They're expecting you."
Stowe nodded. "You ever need a favor from the Bureau, it's yours."
"I'll keep it in mind. You've got to stall him on the lawyer, keep him incommunicado until after oh two hundred hours. You have a little delay getting to Central, the paperwork gets lost for his transfer to your authority."
"If I can't delay for fourteen hours, give or take, I shouldn't be working for the government. He won't tip anybody about your op. Whenever you want to interview him about your two homicides, I'll clear it. He give you that?" she asked, jerking her chin toward Eve's face.
"I got it on the tackle, bringing him down."
"You ought to put some ice on it."
"Tell me."
"It's been a pleasure." Stowe held out her hand. "Lieutenant."
"Likewise. Agent."
She ordered Peabody to find the closest 24/7 and buy some ice. In direct violation of orders, Peabody hit the closest pharmacy and brought back a cold patch with anti-inflammatories and a bottle of pain blockers.