The Schwarzschild Radius (52 page)

A break finally came at 9:20.

“McKenna here.”

“A tow truck operator was called to haul away a white van from the grounds of Greenlawn Cemetery in Brooklyn after closing time. It belongs to Brazos.”

“And inside?”

“A kid’s knapsack with some kind of bird house and a half-eaten candy bar. No sign of blood, but there was plenty of struggle. The rear headlights were busted from the inside.”

“On my way.”

Cops combed the grounds of the Greenlawn Cemetery with the K-9 units. McKenna scanned a Google Earth map of the area on his laptop. There was a subway El, a baseball diamond, a couple of fast food places, gas stations.

“He had to walk out of here or steal a car.”

“There’re no reports of stolen cars in the area for the last two and a half hours, which must be a record for Brooklyn,” said Marchese.

“He had at least one hostage with him,” said McKenna. “Unless he already killed her and left her somewhere, so he could travel light.” And was Rachel with him too? Or had he disposed of her already? Where can you hide around here? He turned to the Google map again. It kept zooming in and out.

“Damn thing has a mind of its own.” He oriented himself again on the screen. He clicked on every icon and the name of the location popped up. Reyes Deli Grocery, Shell Fuel, Popeye’s Chicken and Biscuits, Bushwick Walking Tour, C-Town Super Market, Subway, Quality Inn, Tunnel Approach.

“What’s this―Tunnel Approach?” He clicked on it and a photo expanded. It was a gloomy looking entrance to some kind of passageway. He right-clicked on it for directions. It was just a few hundred yards away.

The dogs picked up Rachel’s scent as soon as they entered the tunnel. McKenna was relieved for a second, then he thought of what they might find.

“Where’s the exit to this,” said McKenna.

“It’s about a half mile south, but it’s been sealed up for years. No trains come through,” replied Marchese. “I grew up here.”

The SWAT team entered with night vision goggles. It was already dark outside, and inside the tunnel it was pitch black. McKenna wore body armor and carried an AR-15, and was praying for a chance to use it. Deep down, he didn’t want this to end in an arrest and trial.

The scent was getting stronger, judging from the dogs. On the ground there was the usual detritus. He didn’t want to see a body added to this trash.

His GPS said they were about half way into this tunnel. Fifteen-hundred feet and it may as well be the center of the Earth. The dogs stopped.

“The scent ends here,” said one of the handlers.

The handlers led the dogs further ahead, but they came back. They alerted strongly on one spot on the ground where the garbage had been cleared away.

“She was right there for sure,” said the handler. No sign of a struggle.

Back outside, McKenna demanded a report of all the cars stolen within the last four hours for a one-mile radius. When the report arrived, there were six cars.

“APB on all these. I wouldn’t expect all of them to be on the road anymore with all the chop shops in the area. But he’ll be on the road.”

Brazos left the girls in the tunnel tied up while he stole a car. After parking the Nissan Maxima in the Popeye’s lot, he went back for them. Checking the streets, he sprang out with the girls in tow. He held them tightly by the hand as he walked them blind up the street to the waiting car.

“Stay down or you’re both dead.”

After Brazos dragged Rachel back to the execution chamber, she thought her life was over. He had downed three sodas to counter the effects of the insulin, then sat for ten minutes, ordering her to lie down on the floor. Then two hands picked her up and threw her against the wall. He ordered her to put her street clothes on, then he beat her till she passed out.

When she had awoken in the van, she was sorry to see Achara, but relieved that Joules wasn’t there too. That meant he was safe.

Where was he taking them? Did he have another hideout? Why didn’t he just escape alone without the baggage of two girls in tow? She checked her pockets. Empty.

n Bushwick Avenue, a lone cruiser flashed its lights five cars behind Brazos. He slammed down on the accelerator and made a right onto Grand Street, then a left at Vandervoort. Brazos zigzagged around several blocks, then landed back on Vandervoort. A right onto Division Street and a quick left at Porter Avenue. He had lost the cruiser, but a radio call had no doubt gone out. Brazos mounted his GPS on the dash and punched in his next destination. Rain was coming down hard.

Ten minutes later, he spotted a police helicopter overhead. He was still too far from his target to abandon the car. Just keep within the speed limit and follow the digital voice that now guided him. A spotlight dropped down on Brazos’ car like a net. The chopper was directly over him. He punched in an alternative objective and changed course. Two minutes later, Brazos pulled into a dump off of Schenck Avenue. Lots of abandoned cars. Good. With a map of the ground in his head, he stopped the car and pulled out the girls.

He marched them in the dark two hundred yards to a stand of trees and took a pry bar out of his backpack. It took a few minutes of rooting around, but he found it. He levered up the manhole cover and pointed to the hole in the ground.

McKenna popped the trunk on the Nissan Maxima. Nothing.

“Seal off the area,” said McKenna. “He’s got the water on one side; I don’t think he’s swimming to Rockaway.”

The dogs picked up the scent right away. They scratched at the manhole cover.

McKenna turned to the K-9 unit. “These manholes are six or eight hundred feet apart. Be there if he comes up for air.”

McKenna made sure the safety on the AR-15 was on and descended the ladder. It was an eighty-four inch storm drain and that meant they would travel faster without having to slouch. But so would Brazos. When the six-man team had descended, they put on night-vision goggles.

“Figure they have a thirty minute head start,” said McKenna. “Double time.” They jogged through the concrete tunnel, keeping their feet on either side of the stream running down the center. Water from the rain came in from multiple inlets and was pooling. How fast could Brazos travel with two girls? Were they hurt? That would slow him down more.

He scanned the walls of this tomb. It wasn’t the first time humans were here. The walls were covered in graffiti.
Joey and Louise fucked here 1992
. Spiders all over. Whenever a car ran over a manhole cover, it sounded like thunder. What were they going to find at the end of this shit hole?

Brazos had Rachel by the wrist and Rachel had Achara’s hand as they were dragged through the cavern. Brazos wore night vision goggles and he was going at a blistering pace. They were ankle-deep in water and the tunnel grade went steeply downward. A storm raged above and water poured into the chamber. Brazos looked at the Tritium dial of his watch. The water was rising and it wasn’t just from the storm. If it got too high before he reached the end of the tunnel, he’d have to make an escape through one of the manholes. Hopefully, it would cooperate and open. After a few hundred yards more, the water was up to his shins. Brazos had to get to the end quickly to make his next objective. Suddenly he stopped and cupped his hand over Rachel’s mouth. Sound carried in this place. Cops were on his trail. Maybe a thousand yards. He should have lost them, but that damn chopper had spotted him. This chase had gone on long enough. He had to get the job done and get out. Next stop, the execution chamber.