Неизвестный - 6. Justice For All

We had to bargain.” Rebecca had objected violently, but her arguments hadn’t done any good. She’d been instructed to personally take charge of him during the bust and sequester him away from the other prisoners.

Thinking of the phone call she’d made just before she picked up Watts and Sloan, Rebecca turned onto the Atlantic City Expressway.

“But you never know. Anything can happen.”

v

“You might want to work one of the other clubs tonight,” Sandy said when Darla plunked down next to her at the bar at the Blue Diamond.

“How come?”

Sandy tilted her head toward the two men talking to a couple of girls across the room. “Our friends are back.”

Darla followed her gaze and stiffened. “Oh man. Those nasty pricks—I was hoping I’d never see them again. You think they remember us?”

“Yeah.” Sandy kept her eyes on the hard-eyed guy who’d gotten off manhandling her in the parking lot the week before. He smirked at her and adjusted his crotch. When he started toward them, she said quickly, “You don’t want to be in on this tonight. Go out the back.

Now.”

“Are you going to be okay?” Darla didn’t bother to wait for an answer. She just hopped down from the stool and hurriedly collected her purse and jacket.

Sandy held the Russian’s gaze as he approached. She smiled at him, and she didn’t have to fake it. She was really glad he’d found her, because now she’d have the chance to see him go down. “I’m gonna be just fine.”

v

• 293 •

RADclY fFe

Mitch leaned against the wall just inside the door of the penthouse suite at the Boardwalk Hotel and Casino and watched the party get under way. A Russian security guard occupied a similar spot on the opposite side of the door, looking bored. Irina directed the girls, speaking to them in Russian and moving them about the room like players on a stage.

Placing one next to a portly sixty-year-old who immediately began to fondle her while gulping the drink Irina handed him. Instructing another to kneel between the spread legs of a thirtysomething in a business suit who unzipped his fly and tugged out his penis while sharing a joke with a man seated nearby. She’d chosen two of the youngest to sit on either side of Bishop Thomas on a wide leather couch.

Mitch recognized Thomas from the photograph Sandy had taken at the last party. He recognized Irina’s sister, too, whom Irina had just delivered like a party favor to the priest. Nothing showed on Irina’s face as she went about the business of seeing to the clients’ needs, and her sister had been equally cool, only the faintest smile showing for a second when she’d first seen Irina. Mitch wondered if Irina struggled with the same blind rage that hammered at the edges of his control, or if she had long ago accepted the reality of what she must do to survive. He thought of her and Sandy, and ached for retribution for all the injustices they had endured.

Realizing his fists were clenched at his sides, he made a conscious effort to relax and put his personal feelings aside. He didn’t know precisely when the lieutenant would greenlight the takedown, but when it happened, he needed to be completely focused.

When Irina finished distributing the girls, a few men were still without escorts, and one of them appeared to be having a heated conversation with Olik, who lounged on a stool at the wet bar on the far side of the room. The thin, agitated man stalked off and Olik pulled out his cell phone and made a call. The Russians didn’t have enough girls of their own to cover the party, and Mitch knew what that meant. When a knock sounded at the door and the guard next to him exchanged words in Russian with someone outside in the hall, Mitch steeled himself for what was coming.

The guard pulled the door open and a man walked through with three more girls. Sandy didn’t look at Mitch, and he gave her a cursory glance and then looked away. Even when Sandy and one of

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Justice for All

her girlfriends headed straight for the thin man who sat fidgeting on the love seat across the room, Mitch just stared straight ahead. He didn’t flinch when the man said something to Sandy and pressed her hand over the bulge in his crotch. Sandy laughed and pulled her hand away before reaching for the girl beside her and deep-throating her. Mitch didn’t mind the kiss as long as the guy wasn’t touching her anymore.

Sandy had a job to do, and so did he. The best way to keep her safe was to get between her and the Russians when the fireworks started. He would preserve his cover, but if he got the chance, he’d kick that slimy bastard’s balls into his throat.

• 295 •

• 296 •

Justice for All

ChAPTER ThIRTy-ONE

Everyone should be settled in by now,” Rebecca said a few minutes after they watched Sandy climb out of a black SUV

and go into the hotel with two men and a couple of other girls. She checked Watts and Sloan. “Ready?”

“Fucking A,” Watts growled, releasing the strap on his holster before reaching for the door handle.

“Looking forward to it,” Sloan said easily.

“I’ll alert Clark to move on Zamora. Watts, radio when you rendezvous with the tactical team at the service elevators. We’ll take the lobby and clear the stairwell. Wait on the door until we get there if you can.”

“Roger, Loo.” Watts slid out of the car and hurried away with a spring in his step.

Rebecca speed dialed Clark, snapped, “We’re moving,” and disconnected.

“The Russians will be armed,” Rebecca reminded Sloan. “You stay at the rear and out of the line of fire.”

“How about I just watch your back and we don’t worry about where I’m standing.”

“Fair enough. But Jesus, keep your head down.” Rebecca grinned as she opened her car door. “I don’t need Michael after me for getting you bruised.”

Laughing, Sloan climbed out and joined Rebecca as they headed toward the front entrance. “I’m sorry Jason is missing this one.”

“We need him back at headquarters monitoring Zamora, just in case he gets wind of this and starts dumping data.” Rebecca slowed as

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her radio crackled and Watts relayed that the strike team was in position.

“I copy. Give us thirty seconds. Then go.”

Rebecca and Sloan sprinted into the lobby, jogged around guests and bellmen, and hurtled into the stairwell.

v

Dell heard a muffled shout through the door and knocked the Russian guard next to her off balance as the door crashed open. Everyone in the room shouted at once as officers in riot gear stormed into the room. Girls cowered on the floor, men scattered while trying to zip and cover, and the Russians reached for weapons. Dell took advantage of the pandemonium and the momentary cover provided by the strike team to elbow the guard in the temple. The guy dropped like a stone.

Dell immediately checked for Sandy and saw her drag the girl with her behind the sofa. Across the room, Watts manhandled the other guard up against the wet bar and slammed his head down amidst the bottles and glasses. The lieutenant shoved the priest to the floor next to the sofa and cuffed him. The remaining johns jostled like spooked cattle, trying to get out the door past the police who were busy restraining them.

The situation seemed contained until Dell caught a glimpse of Olik yanking Irina by the arm toward the hallway that led to the rear of the penthouse. She wasn’t certain of the layout, but she thought there might be another exit.

Shouldering her way through the melee, she raced down the hall.

When she pushed through a partially open door, she found herself in another large sitting room with a wide foyer to her left and sofas and chairs grouped around an empty fireplace off to her right. In the foyer, Olik, one hand twisted in Irina’s hair, jerked open the door to the hall.

Dell couldn’t let him take her. She yanked her backup piece from her ankle holster and leveled it at Olik’s head. “Olik. Let her go!”

Seconds stretched into eternity as Olik thrust Irina in front of him and raised his automatic.

“Irina! Get down!” Dell shouted, desperately angling for a clear shot. Then Irina lunged at Olik and the air erupted in gunfire.

v

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Rebecca dropped into a crouch in the doorway and scanned the sitting room. Mitchell knelt nearby, blood covering one side of her face and her gun hand wavering. Irina was sprawled in the center of the foyer, a widening patch of crimson soaking her blouse.

“Hallway,” Mitchell gasped, staggering to her feet. “I’ll cover you.”

Sloan stormed by and yelled, “See to the girl! I’m with Frye.”

Rebecca leapt for the door. “Go low.”

“Got it,” Sloan called.

They burst into the hall side by side. Rebecca pivoted against the wall and Sloan skidded to her knees on the far side, weapon extended.

Olik was twenty feet away, almost at the stairwell doors.

“Police,” Rebecca shouted. “Drop the weapon!”

Olik half turned in their direction and fired blindly while diving for the stairwell. Sloan and Rebecca opened fire.

v

“Dell!” Sandy threw herself down next to Dell. “Dell. Oh, Jesus.”

“I’m okay,” Dell said, wiping her forearm across the side of her face. “Just nicked me. God, Irina.”

Gunfire clattered in the hall outside.

“Go,” Sandy yelled, flinging herself toward Irina. “I’ll take care of her.”

Dell rushed across the room and ducked into the hall. Sandy pulled up Irina’s blouse and pressed the heel of her hand to the ragged two-inch hole below her left collarbone. Flecks of blood streaked Irina’s lips, and her breath rattled with each shallow inhalation.

Irina’s eyes fluttered open. “Mitch?”

“He’s okay,” Sandy muttered, pressing harder as the flow of blood picked up. “Don’t talk, okay? Just lie still. You’ll be okay.”

“Mika,” Irina whispered. “My sister. Someone take care…”

“Listen,” Sandy snapped, leaning over so Irina could see her face.

“Shut up. You’re making the bleeding worse. You’ll be fine. You can take care of your sister yourself. You got it?”

Irina smiled weakly. “Mitch’s girl.”

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“You bet your ass. Now hush.” Sandy’s heart dropped when Irina’s eyes rolled back and she went very still. When she heard pounding footsteps behind her, she prayed it wasn’t one of the Russians.

“Fuck,” Watts yelled. “Fuck. Fuck.”

“Do something, will you?” Sandy screamed at him.

He already had his radio out and was shouting for EMTs. Then he disappeared into the hallway, too, leaving Sandy alone in the sudden stillness.

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Justice for All

ChAPTER ThIRTy-TwO

Rebecca stepped over the pool of blood where Irina’s body had lain. The bitter tang of blood and cordite hung in the air and coated her throat with frustration and fury. Uniformed officers strung yellow crime scene tape over the doorways, and a police photographer and the crime scene crew, talking in hushed whispers, processed the now empty rooms.

“I’ll meet you at the car,” Rebecca said to Sloan, stopping outside the bedroom door where she had posted one of the state police.

“You need help with this?” Sloan asked.

“No, but do me a favor? Call Catherine for me. Tell her…” Rebecca grimaced. “Tell her I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

“No problem.”

The other johns had already been loaded into police vans and shipped off for booking. Her duty was to deliver the priest to a waiting squad car so he could be whisked away in anonymity. She nodded to the officer on the door. “Thanks. I’ll take it from here.”