Williams Residence
Bronx, New York
An SUV and overwhelming firepower were about the only way to move freely in New York City at this point, and both had served them well. It had taken almost an hour, but they were finally in front of Atlas’ sister’s apartment building. The streets were nearly empty, the curfew starting in a few hours, though Atlas doubted that was the reason why.
Good people were in hiding.
On the way here, they had listened to the reports of markets collapsing worldwide, the American markets closed, with no indication as to when they might reopen. The panic certain to occur if they weren’t shutdown, was playing out everywhere else. The estimate was that trillions would be eventually lost, and it could take years for markets to recover, if they ever did.
But those were the doomsayers, in his opinion. If he knew the free market, as soon as this crisis was over, and it would be at some point, the markets would reopen, stocks would collapse, then the buyers with money would come in and scoop up the deals. The markets would recover, and in time, this crisis would be forgotten.
Atlas stepped to the door of the building and pulled on it. It was locked.
“Umm, break the window?” suggested Sergeant Eugene “Jagger” Thomas.
Red shook his head. “No, that’ll leave everyone vulnerable.”
Wings stepped over to the intercom and ran his fingers down every buzzer. Within moments they were buzzed in.
Atlas yanked open the door. “Some people are absolute morons.”
Red grunted. “You’re not going to get an argument out of me.” He pointed at Jagger and Casey. “Secure the lobby. The rest of us will go up.”
They boarded the elevator and Atlas pressed the button for the twelfth floor.
“When were you last here?” asked Wings.
Atlas pursed his lips, trying to remember. “A couple of years, at least. I keep meaning to visit, but you know how it is.”
“Tell me about it. When this is all over, I’m going to go visit my folks. You just never know, you know?”
“Yeah.”
The doors opened and Atlas stepped out, MP5 at the ready as he broke right, Wings left, the others following.
“Clear,” said Atlas, Wings confirming the same.
“Which way?” asked Red.
“My way.”
Red turned to Wings. “You and Mickey secure the elevators and watch our six.”
Atlas surged toward his sister’s apartment, finding the door closed. He tried the knob. Locked. He pressed his ear against the door and heard nothing. He knocked.
Still nothing.
It made sense. His sister wouldn’t be here yet, and the boys were probably still locked in the bathroom, terrified. He repeated his knock, three hard raps. “Boys, it’s Uncle Leon! I need you to open the door!” He heard nothing when a door to their right opened slightly, someone peering out at them.
Red stepped toward the woman, pointing at her. “I’ll need you to go back inside, ma’am.”
“What’s going on?”
“Official business. Please go back inside. Now.” Red’s firm tone had the door shutting. He turned to Atlas. “Break it down.”
Atlas nodded. He slammed his shoulder into the door, regretting it instantly. He stepped back, rubbing his now tender arm. “Reinforced. That’s not coming down.”
Red frowned. “C4.”
Sweets stepped forward and placed a small charge on the lock, then attached a detonator. They all stepped back. “Fire in the hole!”
That’ll scare the shit out of the neighbors.
The small blast made quick work of the door and it swung open on its own, but not before Atlas’ heart broke at his nephews’ screams of terror. He stepped inside, the others following as they quickly cleared the apartment.
“I’ve got a body back here, African American female, looks like she’s in her teens.”
Atlas frowned as he approached the bathroom. “That’ll be the babysitter.” He knocked gently on the bathroom door. “Boys, it’s me, Uncle Leon. You can come out now. It’s safe.” He heard excited murmurs on the other side, but the door remained closed. “It’s okay, boys, it’s me. Your mom sent me to come get you.”
“Uncle Leon, is that really you?”
It was Michael. He’d recognize that voice in a crowd of thousands. “Yes, Michael, it’s me. I need you to unlock the door.”
There was a rattle of the knob then the door slowly pulled open. “Uncle Leon!” The door flew aside and three bundles of terrified joy assaulted his legs as they hugged him hard. He dropped to his knees and embraced the three young boys who had gone through something no child should ever have to. He squeezed them tight as he battled the tears.
“You’re safe now, okay? No one’s going to hurt you.”
Michael pushed away, staring up at his face. “You promise?”
Atlas nodded, the tears winning. “You have my word, little man.”