Archer glanced at Vargas, who nodded.
‘Whoa, wait a minute,’ Helen said, reading their minds. ‘You can’t go out there. We need to stay put. You don’t know who these people are, or what kind of weaponry they have.’
‘We have to do something. And the ESU team might have made it onto the roof before the chopper took the hit. We can meet up with them.’
‘But those other men appeared out of nowhere. You don’t know how many of them there are. You just said that yourselves.’
‘We stay here, it’s only a matter of time before they find us,’ Vargas said, as Archer nodded, pulling the USP from the back of his waistband and checking the clip. ‘And we’re running out of options.’
Helen stared at her, the red and blue lights from below flashing through the curtains covering the south-facing window behind her, not liking the plan. Barlow didn’t speak. Whispering something to Jennifer and hugging her, Vargas scooped up the M4A1. She pulled out the magazine, a round gleaming back, then slotted it back into the weapon and looked over at Barlow.
‘Can you hold the fort here?’
‘Since when have you started giving orders?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘OK Jared, we can swap. You can head up to 22 and I’ll stay.’
He shook his head. ‘No way. I’ll watch the kid. I don’t fancy dying tonight.’
Checking his own M4A1, Archer turned to Helen.
‘Whereabouts is this phone?’ he asked. ‘Be specific. We won’t have long up there.’
‘22, middle of the corridor. Red box. You can’t miss it.’
Down on the street, Hobbs was in a state of shock. Including the chopper pilot, thirteen of his people had just been killed in a matter of seconds, their rescue effort annihilated, the chopper swatted aside like an irritating fly. All of his angry defiance and hostile attitude towards Dalton had evaporated. He was sitting by his truck, several of his remaining men with him, on the phone with one of his superiors and trying to explain what the hell had just happened. In their entire history, ESU had never lost a team like that so easily. All of those officers had been standing here ten minutes ago.
Now, they were all dead.
Standing in the street, Dalton, Shepherd, Marquez and Josh watched him in grim silence. They could hear distant sirens of several fire trucks approaching; the group caught a glimpse of the vehicles racing up Riverside Drive a street over, headed towards the burning wreckage of the chopper. Several NYPD blue and whites had pulled round to the scene soon after it had happened, and their reports confirmed that the helicopter had been totalled, landing in the stretch of Park adjacent to the Hudson. Thankfully, no members of the public had been killed; the same couldn’t be said for the pilot.
‘This is unreal,’ Josh muttered.
‘They knew we’d try the roof,’ Shepherd said. ‘Hobbs’ team landed right in their trap.’
Watching the shell-shocked ESU Lieutenant explaining himself on the phone, Shepherd turned to Dalton.
‘No more bullshit. Men from my team just died. Time you told us who this witness is. Why are people so desperate to kill her?’
Dalton stared up at the building.
He didn’t say a word.
Easing the door of 8A back almost painfully slowly, Archer checked the hallway.
It was empty. He slid out, the assault rifle locked into his shoulder. Vargas followed, doing the same. She pulled the door shut behind them gently, and heard Barlow replacing the refrigerator the other side of the wood, shunting it back into place, the underside scraping across the floor. Barlow had his Glock, USP and two spare mags for each so Jennifer would have sufficient protection for the time being. Helen was staying close to Carson, keeping close tabs on him. Her resistance to Archer’s and Vargas’ course of action had continued all the way until they stepped outside.
However, the pair now outside the apartment knew they had to do something. Rescue wasn’t coming anytime soon. If they were going to get out of here alive, they’d have to figure it out themselves. If they waited, they’d be found.
If they were found, they would almost certainly be killed.
The stairwell to their right, the main corridor stretching away to their left, the two of them stood there, waiting, listening. Archer glanced over his shoulder at Vargas, who motioned with her head. She took point, the pair moving into the south stairwell, Archer keeping his M4A1 trained on the long corridor behind them as Vargas took the lead. Keeping their movements slow and quiet, they checked down then looked up through the gap in the railings. Everywhere their eyes went, the M4A1s followed. There was noise coming from the building but it was muffled shouts and rap music from somewhere, nothing threatening.
She went to start moving up but he grabbed her arm.
A few floors above, someone had just pulled open a stairwell door and stepped out.
They were coming this way.
After his work on the roof, Castle had hooked up with Spades and they’d just cleared the 10th floor, moving from the north side to the south. They’d been assigned 10 to 16, but so far, no luck, no sign of these assholes anywhere.
Heading down the south stairwell, they came to a halt on 8, the door pushed back and held in place by a door wedge. Spades looked down the corridor. It was long and empty, a couple of apartments left open from the sudden evacuation of the building, although most of the doors were shut. Spades was a guy whose temper was always simmering, waiting to boil over.
Staring down the hallway, he hawked and spat, pissed off.
‘They could be anywhere,’ he said. ‘They could have doubled back on us somewhere and be in a room we’ve already checked.’
‘We’ll find her,’ Castle said. ‘Relax.’
He pulled a pack of smokes from his overalls and offered one to Spades, who declined. Drawing one into his mouth from the pack, Castle pulled a lighter and sparked it.
‘What time is it?’ Spades asked.
Castle checked his watch as he took a draw on the cig, exhaling. ‘1938.’
‘Clock’s ticking. We can’t hang around. We’ve already been here too long.’
He looked up the stairwell from where they’d just come and swore.
‘We need to smoke them out.’
Castle took a long draw, then exhaled. ‘Relax. I just destroyed the ESU team. We’ve got time. That’ll hold everyone off for a while.’
‘Or make them even more determined. You killed a whole squad of cops, brother. They’ll want revenge for that.’
Castle shook his head, grinning. ‘The next group sent in will be pissing their pants. And we’ll be out of here by then anyway. We’ll find her.’
‘Castle, Spades, report,’ a voice said over the radio.
Looking around, Castle pushed the pressel on his uniform. ‘Nothing up here, boss.’
He released the handle, taking a last draw on the cigarette, then dropped it to the floor and stubbed it out with his boot.
‘Let’s go see the others. You’re right; we need to think of another way.’
Spades nodded.
‘We keep searching every single apartment, we’ll be here till next week.’
Raising their M4A1s, the two men continued on their way, the sound of their boots clattering in the stairwell as they headed down towards the ground floor.
A few feet away, around the corner and pressed up flat against the wall, Vargas looked at Archer beside her, who waited. They’d ducked back through the door and were the other side of the wall to the stairwell, having listened to the pair’s entire conversation.
Hearing the men head off, they both remained where they were, holding their breath, making sure the men were gone.
After a few moments, hearing boots disappearing down the stairs, Archer eased away from the wall and crept back into the stairwell.
The air smelt of cigarette smoke and gun oil, a stub dropped on the floor with a spiral of smoke rising from the tip. He and Vargas could still hear the men’s footsteps, but they were fading and getting fainter, heading down, far enough away to not be an issue.