Andy struggled on the floor of the portable building, kicked wildly as Jake tried to pull her bunker trousers on over her jeans. Matt was watching, leaning in the corner, head cocked. Ben was coming to, trying to turn onto his back, straining against the duct tape that was half on his wrists and half on the sleeves of his turnout coat, a whip-fast winding Engo had fashioned so he could be there to help Jake dress Andy up and secure her. A cold sweat had broken out all over her, at the planning, the precision involved, the details. They’d bound her once in the darkness of the station parking lot, and now they were dressing her against her will, taking off and then reapplying the tape as they pulled on her uniform, and she was putting it together—the plan, the scenario, looking at the old gas bottles cluttered around the room. The one piece of tape they never removed was the one on her mouth. She talked anyway, because she had to, because the screams came up without her being able to control them.
Ben! Ben! Bennnnn!
Engo pulled her into a kneeling position. Jake dragged Ben up beside her. He was awake now, blinking, shaking off the last of the drunkenness. When Matt ripped the tape off his mouth, Ben gave a howl of outrage and horror.
“What the fuck is this?” Ben looked up at Matt. “Matt? Matt! What the fuck?”
“We know, Ben,” Matt said.
Ben looked at Andy. His eyes darted all over her—the tape, the uniform, the blood dripping from a gravel-graze on her jaw. Matt slid a gun from the waistband of his jeans and Andy felt her stomach lurch.
“We know you’re a cop,” Matt said to her.
We know.
Andy wondered if this was it. Or if it would come in a few minutes’ time, when the building was stormed by Newler and a team of backups he’d assembled the moment he saw Matt and Engo and Jake subdue them and throw them in the car in the station parking lot. Because she couldn’t imagine what would be worse now: being shot on her knees right here on the boards or being caught in the crossfire when that happened, bleeding out in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, Tony stroking her hair, crying his apologies. Andy didn’t know for sure that Newler had been watching her that night. The only night she could confirm he’d been following her, being overwatch for her against her will, was the night of the jewelry-store heist. But she’d felt him since the case began, that strange sixth sense rising from a tingling to a burning, a hum to a roar. She had felt his eyes on her in the park in East Orange, like he was closer than the phone call she’d held with him there on the bridge. Once, a million years ago, the sense of Tony Newler being nearby had given Andy comfort. Turned her on a little, even. Now it was going to get her killed. It was going to get them all killed. Over her own moaning and panting and Ben’s protests, her ears were pricked for sounds out there in the woods.
“You brought a fucking cop into the crew.”
“She’s not a cop! I swear to God, man!”
“I raised you.” Andy watched as Matt’s big fist trembled around the gun he’d pressed against Ben’s head. “I found you in a hole and I dug you out and this is how you want to play me?”
“Matt, Matt, listen to me—”
Andy heard a sound out there in the woods. A twig snap, maybe. Nobody else seemed to hear it. Jake was restless near the open door. His bottom lip was trembling. Andy envisioned him being shot through the doorway, taken out by a sniper. Would that be Newler’s strategy? Have a rifleman pop as many as he could before a flash-bang forced entry? Ben was trying to get up, but with his wrists bound it was almost impossible.
I’m not a fucking cop! Andy growled through the tape. Engo came over and she swung around, kicked out at his shins. He went down.
“Get her back on her knees.”
Jakey came over.
Don’t fucking touch me!
“Benji,” Matt said. “There’s an out here. I’m giving you an out. You gotta take it.”
“I don’t—”
“Tell us that you turned on us. That’s all you have to do, man.”
“She’s not a cop!”
“Just tell us!”
“Matt, please!”
“Tell us, or I’m gonna have to do this thing. I don’t want to do it. But I will.”
Ben looked at her.
“I don’t want to do this, Ben,” Matt said. “Just tell us the truth.”
Jakey started to cry.
Ben struggled to his feet. Matt followed his face with the gun, laser-focused, the barrel inches from the bridge of his nose.
Ben breathed. He nodded, short, sharp, decided.
Andy screamed behind the gag. “The phone!”
“The phone?” Jake interpreted. His eyes were huge and running tears. “What’s she saying? Can we take her tape off?”
“Fuck her,” Matt spat, and shook the gun at Ben. “It’s you I want to hear from, you conniving piece of shit. Tell me why she couldn’t work out how to shut off her PASS device at the school fire. Tell me why I called her station in San Diego and nobody there had ever heard of her. Tell me why she was waiting for you in that bar that night, of all the goddamn places in New York, of all the people you could have hit on—”
Ben was silent.
“You brought in a cop because you think we had something to do with Luna and Gabe.”
Still, the silence.
“The phone!” Andy screamed. “Please, please! Fuck!”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Matt swung the gun around at Andy, walked over and ripped the tape off her mouth. The air was thin and cold against her lips. “What phone?”
“Mine!” Andy gasped. She fought the urge to be sick all over the floor, forced the words out instead. “Please. Listen to me, Matt. I’m not a cop! If you just take my phone, and—”
“And what, bitch?”
“Call someone on there!” Andy begged. “I’ll give you the code. Open it. There must be— There must be a thousand fucking numbers on there! Call one of them and ask them who I am!”
“I already called half the firefighters in San Diego, you stupid fuck! No one’s ever heard of you. You only exist on the paperwork on my end. I couldn’t find a single firefighter who would say they’d worked with you.”
“Of course they wouldn’t admit to knowing me, Matt!” Andy pleaded. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. “I’m blacklisted there. I’m fucking radioactive! If you call one of them from my phone, you’ll see.”
There was a stillness. Andy sobbed, and the men around her stood and watched, the dynamic in the air changing, shifting, shimmering with tension. Andy didn’t know if that was really true, if the great ship was indeed turning around, or if she just wanted to believe it was. She cried while Matt watched her, his eyes icy.
“Get the phone.” Matt waved Engo away. He disappeared out the door toward the car, returning in seconds with the phone. Andy recited her passcode. Her teeth were chattering. She couldn’t look at Ben.
“Pick someone. Anyone.” Andy eased a heavy, shuddering breath. “I’ll tell you how they know me. How we met. You can check.”
“These might be fakes.” Matt’s voice was, for the first time that night, uncertain. He scrolled the phone with his thumb as Engo stood nearby.
“Just pick any person, Matt, anyone at all,” Andy cried. “Jesus Christ, h-h-how could I fake a thousand fucking people who know me? Go to the messages. Go to my emails. Go … go anywhere!”
“Look at her photos,” Engo suggested.
“No, I’m gonna call someone.” Matt flipped the phone, showed her the screen. “Here. Look. Melanie. How do you know her?”
“We were in high school together. Same friend group. But I haven’t talked to her in—”
“Shut up.” Matt’s fist was gripping the phone hard. “Everybody shut up. When she comes on the line, you talk.”
Half of Andy’s mind was wandering the dark landscape outside the building, wondering when Newler’s team would come and destroy them all. Her hot breath fogged the glassy surface of the phone as Matt held it before her lips. The gun was inches from her, hanging by his thigh.
“Heyyy! Andy?”
“Mel,” Andy gasped. “I need your help.” Matt lifted the pistol, pushed it against Andy’s temple. She winced and struggled on. “I-I-I just need you to explain something for me really quickly.”
“What? Andy, what’s going on? Are you okay?”
“Don’t worry, I’m fine, just please tell me where we met. Right now. Please-please-please.”
“Where are you?”
“Mel, for the love of Christ!”
“Where we met?” There was a rustling in the background, like someone was sitting up in bed. “We met at South West High. Why? What’s ha—”
Matt cut off the call, scrolled again. Andy could see the color had gone out of his neck. In the corner of the room, Ben was standing with Jake, his wrists bound and his eyes fixed on Andy’s face, unreadable.
“Who’s Bruno?” Matt asked.
“He’s a friend of my dad’s. He might not answer. He’s old.”
“Fuck that. I get to choose.”
Matt dialed. After eight rings, a gravelly voice answered.
“Yeah?”
“Bruno, it’s Andy.”
“Who?”
Matt slid his finger off the trigger guard and onto the trigger itself. Andy shook and tried to breathe.
“It’s Andy! Andy Nearland! John’s daughter! From North Park!”
“Oh, shit! Andrea! How the hell are you, honey? God, what time—”
“Can you please te—”
Matt shut off the call. “I want a firefighter,” he scrolled. “Right here. ‘Ray E.’ That would be Raymond English, right?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s the guy I spoke to on the desk this afternoon at your old station in Five Points.” Matt threw a dark look at Engo. “He claimed he’d never fucking heard of you.”
“Call him,” Andy pleaded. Matt dialed. The phone rang and rang.
“Oh Jesus,” Andy sobbed. “Ray, please pick up.”
“How could she fake all these people?” Engo’s voice was so quiet, it was barely audible against the wind outside the building. “I mean, that’s a lot of names.”
The line connected. “Andrea?”
“Ray, it’s me!”
“What the fuck, girl? Why are you calling me?” The male voice on the phone lowered to a hush. “I’m on shift at the station right now. If I get caught talking to you I’m mincemeat. What do you want?”
“Enough,” Ben snapped. Matt ignored him, flipping through the phone. “What else do you want? You gonna call every single person in the goddamn phone?”
“Shut your trap.”
“Please, Matt, I’m not a cop, I swear on my life.” Andy shivered.
“You went to Engo’s last night,” Matt said, his eyes roving over the screen, dark orbs reflecting messages, call lists, pictures. “Tried to get him talking about criminal activities.”
“What?” Ben balked.
“I’m sorry. I wanted to be a part of it, that’s all.” Andy shook her head. “It was so stupid. I’m sorry! I won’t tell anyone what you’ve been doing, okay? I swear, Matt. I swear to God. Please don’t kill me!”
Matt’s eyebrow twitched. His finger was frozen, hovering just above the phone screen. He glanced up at Engo. Engo came over and the two watched the screen. Engo smiled.
“I think we might have been wrong,” Engo snorted.
“Everybody’s wrong sometimes.” Matt slid his gun into his waistband.
“What?” Ben’s face was hard. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Matt motioned to Jake. “Untie these assholes.”