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“McNab, use our single and rarely reliable wall screen in the bull pen. I don’t have time to fight for a conference room.” She turned into the bull pen. “Get the vid map up. Carmichael, Santiago, front and center.”
She hesitated a moment when she spotted Carmichael’s sapphire-blue cowboy boots with jewel-colored studs running down the sides. “Are you serious?”
“Sheepskin lined, Dallas. Warm as it gets. You said soft clothes. Santiago bought a hat.”
His lip actually curled. “I’m not wearing it.”
“Not on an op, but on the job, five full days. He lost a bet.”
He shook his head sadly at Eve. “I didn’t learn from my mistakes, and now have to pay the price.”
“Pay it later. Target’s the basement apartment, 251. We believe the two vics are still alive in there. Banner is currently on point, on location. We have four uniforms, here, here.” She used the laser pointer. “Two with eyes on the rear exit, here. The rear exit is an escape window, backed by a short alley to Bedford.”
She highlighted it with her pointer.
“According to our expert consultant, civilian who accessed the blueprints, the escape window must be released from the interior to unlock the bars, then lifted manually. To get out, you climb up and out. An unlikely exit, but our e-team will bypass the release. You’ll take the rear, close off that escape route.”
“We got that,” Santiago said.
“Medicals will be on tap, Seventh and West Houston. EDD will have its van at the end of the block, east side. We’re after four heat sources, two suspects, two victims. EDD will approach the building from the east, get us eyes and ears, if possible.
“We go when I say go. Body armor?”
Santiago tapped his chest. “We’re geared up.”
“You’re clear to go to the location. Let Banner know when you’re there. And tag me. McNab, body armor. Roarke, can you zoom in on the target door? I want to see the locks.”
“They’re standard click/slide with dead bolt,” he told her. “Middle range. Not utter crap, but nothing fancy. Might be a riot bar on the inside, but we’ll know that once we have eyes in there.”
“We’ll take a battering ram, in the event.”
“No cam, no alarm that I can see, and none added in during building rehab some twelve years ago. They’ve a Judas hole, and that’s all.”
McNab came back wearing the black armor over his sweater of screaming red with shivering silver stripes to match, Eve supposed, his silver pants.
“EDD’s in the garage, Lieutenant.” He pranced to her in his red-and-green plaid boots. “And Feeney’s in the van.”
“Let’s move out. Roarke, you’re with Feeney. Let’s go save lives and kick ass.”
She ran it through, over and over on the drive, but she understood, too well, you couldn’t know all the angles, all the movements, until you were in it. Having two civilians, likely restrained, certainly injured, added to the issues.
Saving lives came first.
“You’re on the vics, Peabody. Once EDD verifies their location, getting to them, covering them, that’s your priority. I’m putting Uniform Carmichael with you. He’s got the most experience. Cover the vics, cover your ass, cover each other.”
“In that order?”
“Pretty much. None of the vics we’ve investigated had evidence of stun marks. But we don’t go in assuming they don’t have stunners. We know they have stickers and tools.”
She pulled up behind the EDD van. “He’s going to be more inclined to protect her than she is him. But she’s not going to go down easy. They’re a lot of stupid, but they’re wily. Don’t forget it.”
“You, either.”
They got out. Before Eve could rap on the back of the van, Roarke opened the door, held out a hand to boost her, then Peabody, in.
“Setting up for heat sources,” he told her.
Feeney worked the equipment, McNab jiggled beside him.
