NYPD Red 2(89)

“Jordan and I will go in first,” Kylie said.

“Not a chance,” Rowe said. “You know the drill. Entry team secures the room. It’s what they do.”

“Fine, you go first,” she said. “Do you know what you’re walking in on?”

“No idea.”

“You should.” With that she plastered herself against the side of the building, got down on the ground, and crawled to one of the two almost blackened windows.

“What the hell is she doing?” Rowe said.

“My best guess would be intel,” I said. “Whatever it is, there’s no stopping her.”

Kylie raised her head high enough to look through the grimy window. Five seconds later, she dropped down and made her way back to us.

“It’s a whole new ball game,” she said, taking out a pad and pen. She drew a box. “Here’s the room.”

She put an X in the middle of the box. “Here’s Rachael. She’s chained up, but she’s standing, so it looks like she’s still alive.

“And here,” she said, adding two more X’s, “are Casey and Bell. They’re on the floor on their knees, and there are three men pointing guns at them.” She added three more X’s.

The curveballs just kept coming. “Three men,” I repeated.

“Yeah,” Kylie said. “And one of them is Papa Joe Salvi.”





Chapter 81



“Let me repeat the question,” Joe Salvi said. “Who came home from high school one afternoon and told the other that you both had to murder Enzo? There’s always a leader. There’s always a follower.”

Salvi’s words reminded Dave of his father. “There are chiefs,” his dad would say, “and there are Indians. The problem with NYPD is that there are too many damn chiefs and not enough good Indians. I’m an Indian, Dave. I get an order, and I get the job done.”

And that’s what Dave had tried to do. Sure, it was all Gideon’s idea, but once Dave signed on, he gave it all he had. Enzo, Kang, Catt, Tinsdale, Parker-Steele—every one of them got what they deserved. He only wished he’d had the time to take down more.

But all he had left was twenty seconds. Kylie MacDonald wasn’t out there alone. She and Jordan would be backed up by a SWAT team hell-bent on saving Rachael. They’d blow the garage door, and an army of cops with ballistic shields and assault rifles would storm in.

Twenty seconds. Just enough time to take down one last scumbag.

“I did it!” Dave screamed at Salvi. “Gideon is all mouth and no balls. Enzo raped my sister, and I vowed to kill him. I’m the one who cracked his greasy Guinea head with a bottle of cheap shit vodka. Then I dragged him down to the water, and the whole time he was squealing like the little pussy that he was.”

Dave could see Salvi tighten his grip on the gun. He willed him to squeeze the trigger.

But Salvi held back. He still needed one more push.

“All you Salvis are such hot shit when you have the upper hand,” Dave taunted, “but when the tables are turned, you’re all like Enzo—calling out for his fat whore of a mother—”

Salvi’s gun exploded.

Blood, bone, and gray matter from Gideon’s skull sprayed across Dave’s face.

“You know, Dave,” Salvi said, “you’re not only a lousy cop, you’re a lousy liar. I don’t know why you’d want to take a bullet for that asshole. He fucked you over. I admire you for your loyalty, but I’m going to kill you anyway.”

He was leveling his gun at Dave’s head when the first explosion rocked the room. The back door imploded, sending a shower of smoke and debris through the rear wall. The three mobsters wheeled around. An instant later, a second blast ripped a wide, gaping hole in the metal garage door, and men in helmets, goggles, and tactical vests poured in.

Tommy Boy reacted instantly, firing blindly into the horde of uniforms rushing toward him.

For a smart man, it was a dumb way to die. A barrage of bullets from six different assault weapons tore through Tommy Boy’s body, and he crashed to the floor like a boulder.

“Hold your fire, hold your fire!” Joe Salvi yelled, raising his hands in the air.

“Drop the weapons, face down on the ground, hands behind your head,” a voice barked.

A half smile crept across Dave Casey’s face. The cop giving orders was Kylie MacDonald. Jordan was right there with her.

Two Berettas clattered to the floor, and Salvi and Jojo lowered themselves to the ground. Four cops cuffed them, patted them down, and pulled them up to their knees.

“Hey, take it easy,” Salvi said. “We just captured the Hazmat Killers. My driver shot one of them.”