Page 114 of The Accomplice
As an insurance policy, the feds had fitted a GPS tracker to Peltier’s wheel arch while he was in court.
‘We’re not letting him go. I told you. He’s gonna lead us to where he’s been keeping Kate. We’ll stay with him, and I’ll keep you on the phone. Like I said, you’re going to get him giftwrapped. There will be no argument about who is telling the truth. You’re gonna catch this guy in the act. I don’t want any part of it – you’ll take the credit for this.’
‘I don’t want credit. I want the bastard that killed my agents.’
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
THE SANDMAN
He spotted the Camaro on the Brooklyn Bridge.
In his rear-view mirror. Five cars back.
The other cars behind him were no threat. He could tell from the make and model. Two old Japanese SUVs. Both a dull gray. Both battered. Behind those he saw an electric car with a guy wearing a long beard behind the wheel. The fourth was a soccer mom in a sedan rocking along to her stereo, tapping the wheel in time to the music and singing along theatrically.
The Camaro was the only possible. Too far back to see who was driving. It was the only possible tail, and not a likely one. The feds don’t tail suspects in a car you could see from a mile away.
He lost one of the SUVs and the soccer mom on the Belt Parkway. The electric car and the other SUV went off on the cloverleaf on Shore Parkway, but the Camaro stayed with him.
The power in that car could easily keep pace with his own, but whoever was driving showed no intention of pushing that gas pedal. There were at least two people in the car. Both men. The driver was older. Wisps of white hair shot through his dark curls.
He put his foot down, hard. Left the Camaro way behind and slipped off the highway. He wound through streets to Coney Island, and the old depot. He parked outside, killed the engine and popped the trunk. He picked up his backpack, flung it open and removed a pistol, which he slipped into the waistband of his pants. He then took the ground flare from the bag, closed it and hoisted it onto his shoulder while he shut the trunk and then ran to the locked gate. He got through it and was at the door of the depot when he heard the Camaro coming up fast.
He opened the door, closed it behind him and moved quickly to the pit. A late November sun filtered through the fiberglass panes in the ceiling, giving the depot an orange glow, as if the sun were sitting right on top of the building. Slanted columns of sunlight poured through the holes in the roof.
He would soon light the place up even more.
The sandbags and tool trolley were still on top of the pit, just like he had left them. He had to work fast, kicking the bags off the steel plate, he ran at the trolley, used his momentum to get it rolling and then with one mighty push he shoved it off the plate. Lifting the steel bar, he slipped it into the gap he’d left at the concrete lip of the pit and pulled, levering the plate back to create a two-foot-wide opening.
Tossing the bar, he heard the door being kicked in behind him.
No time for more gasoline.
Now that he was here, he knew it wasn’t needed. The smell coming from the pit told him it would go up like a tinderbox.
He turned to face the door, cracked the flare.
‘Don’t move,’ said a voice.
One of those columns of pure sunlight separated him from the door. It was thirty feet away, but he had to tilt his head, shield his eyes to see who had spoken.
Bloch stepped into the sunbeam, pointed her hand cannon at him, said, ‘Don’t move.’
Flynn was beside her.
The flare in his hand burned fiercely.
‘Don’t move !’ screamed Bloch, again.
Only she was armed. And no doubt she was good with that weapon. He heard another sound now.
Sirens.
In the seconds that followed, he made many calculations. There was only one move.
Toss the flare into the pit.
The ignition would cause an explosion, probably blow the steel plate into the air. It would be enough of a distraction to let him get his gun out and put two rounds in Bloch while she was still recovering from the shock of the blast. He knew it was coming, so he could duck and cover. Then shoot.
