Jess and Mike pulled up simultaneously in front of the garage building Caroline had disappeared into earlier. They each parked lengthwise across the bays, so that any vehicle inside would be blocked from exiting. The building had no windows and no doors on the front other than the garage bays, which were closed up tight. There was no way for anybody to look out and see them, though it was possible that their approaching cars might have been heard.
Jess checked her service weapon and returned it to the holster under her arm. She took a utility knife and a lock-picking tool from the glove box and put them in the pocket of her pants. When she got dressed this morning, she’d initially pulled out a dress and high-heeled boots in imitation of that AUSA who told them about the Russians. Thankfully she’d thought better of it and put on pants and a blazer instead, with leather brogues that she could run in. A cop really couldn’t wear a dress, not even to court. You never knew where the day would take you, or what surveillances or chases it might bring.
She met Mike behind his vehicle. They crouched down and kept their voices low.
“There’s a door on the back and another on the right side,” Mike said.
“We hit both simultaneously.”
“She could run out the front. She’d have to open a bay first, and we’d hear that.”
“And she’d be on foot. I may not look it, but I’m fast. I bet you are, too. We’ll get her,” Jess said.
Mike nodded. “I’ll take the back.”
Jess looked at her watch. “Okay. We hit in five minutes, so we have time to set up. That’ll be six seventeen.”
“Got it.”
Jess went around to the side door. It was elevated about five feet above ground, accessed by a short flight of concrete steps. There was some kind of skylight above it, but no window that would afford someone inside a direct view of Jess’s approach. She climbed the stairs. The door itself was metal, with a flimsy knob. The knob was locked, but she was confident she could breach it. She took the metal pick from her pocket and got started. It was harder than it looked, or maybe she’d forgotten what she’d learned in the academy about lock picking. She checked her watch. She had two minutes before they were supposed to enter. But that time slipped away as she wiggled the tool in the lock, her hands sweating in the cold, wondering if Caroline could hear her. She started thinking about shooting the lock, but the door was metal, and bullets could ricochet.
“Police!” Mike Castro shouted from behind the building.
Shit. Mike was in, but Jess was still locked out. As she started down the stairs, intending to go around and support him at the back entrance, the metal door flew open. Jess whirled to see Caroline Stark standing there, a shocked look on her face.
“Stop right there!” Jess said.
She was back up the stairs in an instant. Caroline ducked inside, yanking the door closed, but Jess managed to grab the handle. They played tug-of-war until Caroline let go and fled back into the building. Jess ran in after her.
Inside, the lights were out. Jess stepped forward quickly, and her foot hit open air. She grasped at the emptiness in front of her, struggling for balance; then she plummeted. The fall lasted a millisecond, and then she hit hard, landing on hands and knees on a concrete floor with the breath knocked out of her. Pain radiated through her wrists and legs. She managed to shift to sitting, and looked back. In the darkness, she’d walked right off a concrete loading dock and fallen about five feet to floor level.
Jess staggered upright, shaking her extremities and patting herself to assess the damage. Nothing was broken.
There were skylights above each side wall, and the rear door stood ajar, adding up to enough light to see outlines. Her eyes were adjusting. She saw the silver Nissan that Caroline had been driving. Two cots and a plastic table and folding chairs. A closed door that presumably led to a bathroom. But no people. Where was Caroline? Where was Mike? Either they’d run out the back exit, they were hiding inside the car, or they were in that bathroom. Jess took out her gun and moved cautiously toward the Nissan. She peered in through the side windows, but in the dim light, she wouldn’t be able to tell if there was someone lying on the back floor. She holstered her gun and took out her phone, flicking on the flashlight to shine into the car.
In the reflection the light made on the windows, she saw the man standing behind her. She heard him chamber a round in his gun and saw him point it at the back of her head. She recognized him immediately from the surveillance photos taken in Queens of him meeting with Galina and the Russian enforcer.
“On the floor, now,” Jason Stark said.