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“No movement on second floor. Three in a group, basement level, center of the main room. You’re standing on top of them.”
She moved to the door, slowly turned the knob. When she eased the door open, she heard the screams, the sobs, the voices.
“All teams go. Move in. Move in.”
She went down, leading with her weapon while Easterday’s shrieks sliced through the air.
He hung by his arms from a hook and pulley in the ceiling. His body was covered with bruises, burns, sweat, blood.
Charity Downing, stripped down to a tank and gym shorts, held a weighted sap. Lydia Su, teeth bared, shouted, “Harder! Make him feel it.”
“Police! Hands in the air. Now. Now!”
As Eve gave the order, the crashes came from above, and the new screams from the alarm.
Unlike above stairs, the basement lights glared on full. In them Su pivoted, using Easterday’s body as a shield.
“We’re not done! We’re not done!”
Eve dodged the wild stun stream, firing back, a wide stream on low, as she leaped down the rest of the stairs.
“You’re done. You’re surrounded. It’s over.”
“No.” Weeping, Su turned the stunner on Easterday, leaving Eve no choice.
She dropped Su, even as Downing let the sap fall with a sickening thud, her own hands shooting up.
“Please don’t. Please. Don’t hurt her. Lydia. Lydia.” Downing went to her knees, gathered Su in her arms. “Stop, stop. Remember what Grace told us.”
Eyes wheeling from the stun, Lydia shuddered. “Not done.”
“We need the MTs, we need a bus! Baxter, restrain these two.”
He rushed down the rest of the stairs. “I’ve got them, boss.”
“Peabody!”
“We’ve got Blake and MacKensie. We’re secure.”
Eve turned to Easterday, who wept in harsh, racking sobs.
“Help me. Help me.”
“I bet that’s what they said,” Eve murmured, but holstered her weapon. “Roarke, help me lower him down.”
“They hurt me.”
“You’re alive,” she said, without a drop of sympathy.
He was alive, she thought as they brought him down. She’d done the job.
“Have the women taken in,” she told Baxter. “Keep them separated.”
Su, still reeling from the stun, shot Eve a look of tearful hate. “He deserves to die. All of them deserved to die.”
“You don’t get to make that call. Get them out, Baxter.”
She looked down at Easterday as he lay on the floor, moaning. “Medical assistance is on the way.”
