Blood List(35)

"You're out of your fucking mind!" Marty yelled for the half-dozenth time. "Work with him? With that murdering piece of shit? I won't do it. Fuck you! Fuck him! Fuck this! No!" Spittle flew from Marty's mouth.

"Marty, calm down, sit down, and listen," Gene said. "That's an order." Jerri smiled. The word "order" transformed Gene from a misguided younger brother into Special Agent in Charge, whether he was holding an ice pack on his face or not.

Marty leaned back into the wall but kept his mouth shut. He moved to the conference table and pulled out a chair, then eased himself into it. He glanced at Jerri, his blush showing how little he appreciated being humbled in front of her.

"Carl and Doug will be here in a few minutes," Gene said. "When they get here, after I explain to them what I've been trying to explain to you, you may be part of the discussion if, and only if, you keep your temper in check. Are we clear?"

"Yeah," Marty said as the raging anger in his eyes faded to a slow burn. "I'm sorry I blew up, bro. I think you're making a big fucking mistake, though."

"We'll find out, Marty. After we've gotten what intel we can get out of Paul Renner. Do you want some coffee?" Marty shook his head. "Get me some, please, would you?" Marty sneered and opened his mouth to reply, something insubordinate and inappropriate, Jerri was sure, but his face softened as Gene limped on both legs to a chair and sat down. The sneer disappeared, and Marty went to the urn to pour him a cup.

Doug and Carl arrived as Gene stirred in his half-and-half. "Is Mr. Renner situated?"

"Yes, sir," Doug said. "The prisoner is in Interrogation One with a non-hostile setup, as ordered, with four guards posted outside." His face was a mask of wrath. "I never thought I'd have to get that son of a bitch a sandwich and coffee, Gene. We should be cracking his other ribs, not bandaging up the ones he's got. What's going on?"

Gene ignored the question and turned to Carl. "Ear-bead set up?"

Sam answered over the COM. "Yeah, boss. Let me know when you want him piped in."

"Good," Gene said, glad the team followed his orders. "Let's get down to business." He told his story.





Chapter 13





January 6th, 7:12 PM PST; Conference Room 4, Front Street FBI Building; San Diego, California.



Gene sat at the head of the conference room table, flanked by Marty and Doug. Carl leaned his good shoulder against the wall, and Jerri stood next to him. Gene felt like they were interrogating him.

"I agree with Marty," Doug said. "That man should never draw another breath of free air."

"Or any air," Marty chimed in. "He's a ruthless killer, and this is going to bite us in the ass."

Doug folded his arms. "I know we cut deals with little fish all the time, but this is a really big fish, Gene. I say we get what information we can out of him by playing nice, then classify him as hostile, squeeze some more info that way, then put him away for good."

"I talked it over with A.D. Adams, Doug—" Gene began.

"So fucking what?" Marty interjected. "We lie to perps all the time. You were under duress, and, in case you've forgotten, your new buddy is the goddamn D Street Killer."

Gene's face turned red. "He's not my buddy, Marty, and he let me go. We can use him to find the man behind the killings. As I was saying, I talked it over with A.D. Adams, and he agreed that this was the right move."

"Well, fuck him, too, Gene," Marty said. "Can isn't the same as should."

Doug took over the tag-team. "For Christ's sake, you've been to the crime scenes. You've interviewed the orphans and widows. We can't just let him wander around. We can't."

"Carl, help us out here," Marty said. "Are you going to work with the ruthless fuck who crippled your arm?"

Carl looked uncomfortable as all of the room's attention turned his way. "He's not ruthless," he said quietly. "He had the jump on me, Marty. I was holding a submachine gun, and he knew I'd kill him if I saw him coming at me. If I were in his shoes, I would have killed me. And Jerri. Especially Jerri. As far as he knew, she's the first person to ever get a good look at his face, and he let her go. I don't know if it was compassion or what, but I know it wasn't ruthlessness." Carl's face looked pained as he rubbed at his still-damaged arm. "There are plenty of reasons to hate that man. Don't pick sparing my life as yours."

Marty didn't respond. Doug did.

"This could just be another way to screw with us, Gene. Taking it to the next level."

Jerri threw in her two cents. "I agree with Marty and Doug," she said. "At best this guy is a brutal killer. One of his victims was strangled. You've got to be one sick, nasty person to strangle someone. Best case, this guy's a loose cannon that you're putting right in the middle of us. I don't want to be around when he goes off."