"Have you found Shelby?" Jessup asked Gizbo as they headed to
see
the forensics.
"No, sir," Gizbo turned off the radio, and the rattle of patrol policemen
stopped. Now they could talk. "He wasn't on the train. Once we received the report, we blocked all the exits and searched the train.
"Where's L
ieutenant Salem?"
"Gone
into the tunnel, sir
.
He's got seven men
and more track workers
with him.
The train traffic has been
stopped in both directions. The live rail has been cut off. They've be
e
n gone five minutes, sir."
"Ho
w on earth did he escape?" The c
aptain stopped to face the open doors of
a
car
riage
watching
the forensics team
work
.
"Do you know?"
"One
moment,
sir," Gizbo called a sergeant
and whispered something in the man's ear. He then slapped his shoulder and the man walked off.
"What's going on?"
"I'll tell you in a moment, sir."
The sergeant approached the group of passengers and came back with a
dark man in a
subway
uniform.
"This is the train
driver, sir," Gizbo turned to the man. "Can you
repeat your statement for
the c
aptain here
?"
The driver sized Jessup up and down. He looked at the lieutenant, then at the sergeant.
"Well?" Jessup said.
"
I tell ya
, sir
," the man shrugged, "I didn't get the radio message until it was too late
...
"
"The cop who
made
the 151
st
Street sighting, tried to stop the train," Gizbo explained. "Go on now," he said to the driver.
"
I tell ya, sir
," the driver nodded at the sergeant,
"
they ordered me
to go non-stop till the end of the line. But the train stopped in the Harlem tunnel
, sir
."
"
Was
stopped," Gizmo added.
"Exactly so, sir," the driver said.
"Clean
job, sir
, I tell ya
. Not everyone can do tha
t, sir."
"What do you mean?" Jessup glanced back at the staircase
rising
to the station entrance. The Memoria choppers could land
at the stadium
at
any minute.
Doubtful they'd come here for a breath of fresh air. The corporation knew about Shelby. They wanted him, now.
"
I tell ya, sir
," the driver grinned,
"you
gotta know how to open the hatch. There're handles and things, you know.
Not a DIY job,
sir."
"Shelby had to have
had
help," Jessup looked at Gizbo. The lieutenant
gave an unnoticeable nod.
"Could you do me a
favor
, sergeant," Jessup glanced at the staircase, "could you take
this gentleman
to
our
base for a while?
Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
"Give him something to eat, will you? I won't be long."
Jessup said
nothing to Gizbo's puzzled stare
.
He was puzzled enough as it was. Why did Shelby have to gatecrash Memoria's HQ?
Why did he go to the
Bronx? Who was helping him? More
importantly, why did the Feds insist it was a one-man job?
"Let's go," he said to the lieutenant. Together, they went up the stairs following the sergeant and the train driver.
"
Close the station and send all the witnesses to the base for a quick and quiet questioning.
I want the tapes on my desk the moment the questioning's finished. Make sure the other platforms are under control
, as well as the parallel lanes
.
Search all potential suspects
and detain if necessary
, but make sure you
keep the Feds at bay and
give the public no excuse to file complaints
.
The captain glanced at his watch and swore under his breath. The Mayor had cut
down
the migrants' hours, hadn't he?
In thirty minutes,
the
Sixth Avenue Express would
leave
Brooklyn
completely packed
, followed by trainfuls
of
workers
who
cleared
the debri
s
in Manhattan South
.
If they didn't open the line by then, in the next thi
rty minutes they could expect an absolute
stampede
at
all the surrounding stations
...
Jessup cringed
. To find Shelby, he had fifteen minutes at the very most.
By the time he walked up the stairs, one of Memoria
's
choppers had already landed. The other hovered over the landing
pad
.
The first one disgorged a squad of over a dozen soldiers, all clad in black, with Memoria's orange logos on their shoulders.
They formed an uneven line and jogged to
ward
Jessup.
"Sir?"
Gizbo glanced at him
, unsure,
and turned on the radio.
"They're not going in," the captain said looking straight ahead. "Call for reinforcements."
Behind his back, t
he lieutenant mumbled order
s
into the microphone as Jessup watched the other helicopter l
and far to their right
.
The engine roar died down, the rotor blades
losing momentum
. A few
seconds later,
the cabin door slid open.
Agent Archer
leapt
out,
followed by three civilians: two men and a woman.
Yet m
ore men stayed inside
,
dressed like gu
ards or wardens
and apparently
accompanying the three.
Immediately, Jessup recognized the migrants' leaders.
The senior
—
in rank as she was in years
—
was Anna
Gautier
.
The two men were Lionel Batford and Nicholas Floyd. The captain boasted nice
fat
files on all
three
,
m
uch
of which he could recite from memory, thanks to his own mole among their leaders. The men were about the same age as
Frank Shelby. The difference being
, they had been born in migrant camps.
Anna
Gautier
smoothed out her grey hair, disheveled by the
downdraft. She turned to the captain
, but the Memoria squad poured into the station blocking her from his sight.
"Stay as you were!" Gizbo stepped forward.
A few patrol cops joined the officers,
their guns
at the ready
.
The lieutenant raised his hand.
"I order you to stop
—
now!" He spoke into the radio and glanced back, nervous.
Jessup's eyes searched for the
squad
leader
. T
hey all looked alike, faces hidden under the identical helmets and masks, and no insignia, apart from the orange flower on one shoulder. The uneven line
approached fast,
stomp
ing
their combat boots against the tarmac
. The gloomy formation didn't seem to
experience
emotion: Jessup had a funny feeling he
was attacked by a line of either robots or suicide kille
rs, the kind he'd seen during the city war.
"Sir," Gizbo glanced b
ack again, "they look like...
" he didn't finish the sentence as if scared of what he was about to say.
Cold sweat trickled down Jessup's spine.
He wiped the palms of his hands, suddenly
clammy
. No doubt these were the same
goons
who
had attacked the police station and killed
Detective
Freeman
.
But how could he prove it? Should he confront and provoke them? But what if Memoria waited for an occasion exactly like that?
No, not now. He shouldn't show he suspected anything.
As if obeying a silent order, the runners stopped in their tracks at five paces from them.
Jessup glanced up: could there be a support chopper hovering nearby and control
ling the squad's actions by
radio? But the skyline was clear. The next mo
ment, a tall man stepped out of the line.
"Captain Jessup. We're here to assist
the arrest of a dangerous criminal
," said a firm voice
from
under the mask.
The speaker nodded at the men behind his back.
"My men are adequately trained. They are capable of finding Frank Shelby and arresting him. Eliminating him, if necessary.
"
E
ver since the station had been trashed and Shelby shot at in the very heart of the city
,
Jessup had had little doubts they would stay true to their word
.
Until now, Shelby
had had luck on his side.
The guy was a new Houdini
indeed
.
Jessup peered into the man's wide visor as if trying to see the color of his eyes
—
or read his thoughts.
His nylon helmet lining
had come
adrift
by the man's temple showing a
strand of gray hair. Not much
of the
description, but
it
would have to do. With a cop's eye, he registered the slightest details. You never knew when you might need them.
"We're awaiting your order
s
...
Captain." The threat in his voice was almost tangible.
Gizbo drew back and reached u
nder his coat for his gun.
What was it Shelby knew that no one else was supposed to know? Jessup looked at the man
,
sensing his cold stare.
What did
Memoria want from
Shelby
? Why did
they try to eliminate him? Then again, what were the motives behind killing Kathleen Baker?
The corporation must really be onto something, brazenly sending their men here wearing the same uniform they
'd
wor
n
when s
een
attacking the police station. They had to be in a hurry indeed.
Having said that
...
Shelby and his little helpers must have
forced the Memoria bosses to make a mistake or two.
Might not be a bad idea to s
how
yesterday's police reports
to his analytics.
They might see something
useful
.
Strangely,
all of a sudden
he had a good feeling about this Shelby and his friends.
"Captain,
you've got to let them through," he heard a familiar voice behind the fighters' backs.
Agent Archer elbowed his way through
and showed his ID to Jessup and Gizbo.
"As a Federal agent authorized by the government, I command you to let these men enter the station," he stepped close to Jessup and added in a quiet voice, "Otherwi
se I'll be forced to report you for
perverting the course of justice."
"Please do," Jessup snapped
.
"Let them through!"
he waved to his men. Brushing Archer aside, he nodded
to
Gizbo.
The policemen stepped aside
. Jessup didn't want to see the rest of it. He headed for the checkpoint hearing the stomping of combat boots behind his back.
He needed to speak to
Gautier
first. The migrants' leaders had just arrived from Memoria
, off limits for the police
. With any luck, they could
by
privy
to something useful.