Page 27 of Heat of Justice (Duty #3)
The pregnant woman on the subway shot her a fearful look as Cody boarded the train. Catching the direction of her gaze, Cody moved the side of her shirt back over her weapon and discreetly flashed her badge.
“It’s okay. I’m a cop.”
“Oh, sorry.” The woman grinned, then added in a whisper, “I’m not used to armed police.”
“Ah.” Cody moved aside to allow a cyclist with his bike to squeeze by, then asked the expected question. “Where are you from?”
“England. I’m getting married here next week.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks!”
The woman went on babbling happily about how her fiancé would have been okay to make the move to England if she had wanted him to, but she was much happier doing it the other way around. Guns aside, obviously, being in Lewiston was the better option; mainly, she declared, because the so-called ‘ Great ’ British weather sucked far and wide.
“I just spoke to my mum back home in Yorkshire. She said it’s sixteen deg—oops, pardon me! I mean sixty Fahrenheit, and bucketing down. But here?” She beamed. “I’m on my way to the beach to meet my equally hot guy!”
“Good for you.” Cody nodded distractedly.
She observed another man: this one wearing black pants, a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a suit jacket casually slung over his shoulder, board the train at the next stop. She noticed his tie, loose around the collar of his open shirt, the large leather briefcase he carried, and the newspaper folded under his arm. Blond hair, crew cut, and wire-rimmed glasses. The train was packed with office workers clocking off early on this lovely Friday afternoon, and he looked like any of them. Or at least at first glance. Because then, Cody noticed a small tattoo visible behind his ear. It looked like a swastika and drew her attention. She knew that the symbol was both holy and auspicious in the Hindu culture. She had learned this a few years back in New York while working a case involving the murder of a Hari Krishna follower. But this blond guy did not strike her as a Krishna devotee, especially when she caught the furious glare he shot at a young kid who stood in his way. Granted, it was just a look, but something buzzed for Cody in that instant. Her cop sense told her to stay alert. Leaving behind her new British acquaintance, as the woman began to share the pros and cons of various baby names she and her fiancé were considering, Cody started to follow the man. No easy task. The train was full to capacity, smelling like a hard-earned Friday. She did her best to keep up, as her target moved through a mass of bodies, headed toward the other end of the carriage. Cody briefly lost sight of him when they arrived at the next station. The doors opened. People got off. There was an influx of new passengers. Cody was stuck behind a woman a head shorter than she was but three times as large. She had a bad feeling, and a shiver ran down her spine when she heard someone shout:
“Hey! Hey, man! You forgot your briefcase!”
◆◆◆
The station was just across and a bit further down the street from her apartment building, so Kim ran to it. She sprinted across the entrance lobby, elbowed a couple of people who were not moving fast enough, and forced her way through a turnstile. This set off an alarm. Never mind; she ignored it and kept going. Or would have, if someone had not grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her back. Goddammit! Furious at not being able to twist free of that iron grip, ready to strike in retaliation, Kim spun around and found herself staring right into the steady eyes of Quinn Wesley.
“Let go,” she hissed.
“No,” came the firm answer. “Talk to me first.”
“For God’s sake!” Kim glanced aside as her lover’s partner suddenly materialized next to her. “I told you all I could, there is no time for discussion! I know it sounds insane, but you have to trust me! Something is going to happen—”
A loud voice on the Tannoy made her stop and listen.
‘ATTENTION PLEASE, ALL SUBWAY TRAVELERS. DUE TO A REPORTED EMERGENCY, THIS STATION IS BEING EVACUATED. PLEASE LEAVE THE STATION IMMEDIATELY. ATTENTION PLEASE…’
The announcement was followed by the sound of several sirens in the distance. Still breathless but no longer so wary, Kim looked at Quinn, who fiercely returned her gaze.
“Fire trucks are getting here,” she confirmed. “I’ve ordered the entire section between platforms 16 and 18 to be shut down. Just in case.”
Okay… Kim nodded. Well. Shit! The lieutenant was taking a hell of a gamble, evacuating the entire zone just on the strength of her vision, and her belief in her.
“Thank you,” Kim told her in a voice raw with emotion.
“Yeah, well,” Quinn said grimly. ”I figure we’ll be sorrier if you’re correct, and we do nothing, than the other way around. So, what else can you tell me?”
“That’s it. I don’t—Oh…”
◆◆◆
Ellie grabbed hold of Kim as a bit more color leached out of her already pale face, and she swayed. For a moment there, as she looked into her deep amber eyes, it was like gazing through a pane of clear glass; a little weird and spooky. Ellie glanced at her lieutenant to see what she made of it. Quinn’s frown seemed to be approaching critical levels of displeasure. Her jaw was set to near breaking point. And no wonder, actually. If Kim’s warning of impending doom proved inaccurate, Quinn would pay dearly for triggering a full-scale emergency response, and no doubt even more so when people found out she had done it on the word of a so-called psychic. Then again, as Quinn stated to her when she made the decision to shut down the station; ‘She was spot-on once before. We can’t risk it.’
“Kim,” she grunted now. “Help me out here.”
The woman shuddered. Blinked. Bit on her lip.
“He wants to kill,” she murmured. “It’s heavy. Dark. I feel it. Hatred. Wrath.”
“Who is he?” Quinn prompted. “Can you describe him?”
Breathing hard, almost panting, Kim stared at the throngs of people coming out of the lower levels.
“I don’t know.” She spoke through clenched teeth, her tone loaded with frustration. “All I see is fire and people screaming. I see Cody in the middle of it...”
Ellie squeezed her hand in support when her voice broke, and also to keep her from rushing off. Kim’s fingers were like ice despite the air temperature around eighty. She was also shaking with a huge amount of tension in her body. It was like holding onto a live wire. Quinn stopped her questions long enough to bark at the closest subway official.
“Why are so many people still coming through the gates? I told you to shut down all traffic down there!”
◆◆◆
It would all come down to a matter of seconds. The guy with the swastika gave no sign he even heard the call about his suitcase. Cody pinned him with a suspicious stare as the doors closed again and the train rumbled to move on. As their eyes met and held for a moment when he realized that she was watching him, a mix of dark pleasure and malevolence glinted across his face. The man raised his fists, opened his hands wide, and mouthed the word: BOOM!
For only the second time in her life, time slowed down for Cody. The first occurrence had been on that New York street as she raced to her fallen partner. Hoping it was not too late, only to find that Emma was gone. Now, as in then, extra-sharp focus also accompanied the experience. She saw it all clearly. A train carriage full of people. The guy towards the back end of it, still holding the case with a baffled look on his face as to why its owner seemed so unbothered. He had yet to realize what he was in for, obviously. Cody assessed him. Tall, about six-two, with a jovial face, blue eyes, and short reddish-brown hair. In a pair of paint-stained trousers, heavy-duty work boots, and a black t-shirt, he looked like a construction worker. Behind him was a teenager with two younger kids in tow, an older man in a wheelchair, and more office workers... Everyone frozen in slow motion. Cody could hear her own breathing, in and out, and the rapid pounding of her heart. Don’t just stand there. Do something! The thought snapped her back to reality at the same time as the train stopped again just off the end of the platform. The doors re-opened, allowing a gap between the carriage and the tunnel wall through which two people might just be able to squeeze at a time.
‘ATTENTION PLEASE, ALL SUBWAY TRAVELERS. DUE TO A REPORTED EMERGENCY, THIS STATION IS BEING EVACUATED. PLEASE LEAVE THE STATION IMMEDIATELY. ATTENTION PLEASE…’
As people immediately started to grumble, Cody whipped out her badge and held it up for everyone to see.
“I’m a detective with Lewiston P.D. Please remain calm as you exit the carriage and make your way out. You!” She locked eyes with the man holding the briefcase. “Don’t move. Give me the case.”
Perhaps because she had announced herself as a detective instead of a bomb squad specialist, he seemed amused at first.
“What’s in it?” he chuckled. “A million dollars in cash?”
“Just pass it to me and go.”
As the evacuation message was repeated, his smile slowly faded.
“Ah, come on. You don’t mean—”
“Give it to me. Slowly.”
Now as Cody reached him, the man could not fail to get her drift. She noted sweat rolling down his face, no longer just from the heat in the carriage. He did hand her the briefcase. Carefully. One hand around the handle, the other supporting the bottom. He looked a little green.
“Good man.” Cody nodded as their eyes met. “Now, make your way out. Help the others.”
But of course, she could not avoid her previous instructions being overheard, and the same kind of conclusion reached as the man had. The low-level grumble of disapproval at what seemed like a standard subway malfunction, a mild annoyance at the start of the weekend, turned into a panicked whisper. Like wildfire, it rippled through the carriage.
It’s a bomb—it’s a bomb—it’s a bomb—
“IT’S A BOMB!” A woman screamed it.
“Everybody stay calm,” Cody countered immediately.
It was too late, her voice was lost in the chaos. Everyone suddenly rushed for the doors in a mad scramble. While some kept enough of a cool head to do the right thing and assist less able people, others just gave in to panic. It turned into a massive free-for-all.
“Bloomin’ heck!” a woman yelled louder than all the rest. “Will you lot bloody calm down?”
British accent; clearly pissed off. Cody glanced over to catch the pregnant woman holding two men back to allow a couple of kids to squeeze through the doors. Good. She exchanged a look with the passenger in the wheelchair, who seemed resigned to the fact that he might be the last to leave the train. Or not at all, for that matter.
“It’s okay. I won’t leave you behind,” Cody promised.
First, though, she walked to the far end of the carriage and slowly, with the utmost care, slid the briefcase under one of the seats. Best she could do. She considered firing a bullet through the laminated safety glass and hurling the case out onto the tracks as far as she could. But another carriage was in front, and on the side, a solid brick wall. So she just focused her efforts on what she could control, and helping people out. All the kids were gone now, she noted, as well as the pregnant woman. Others were frantically shoving and pushing to get through. Fists flew between two men who really should know better. She grabbed the closest one to her by the collar of his shirt and shoved him back.
“You fucking—"
“Knock it off!” Cody snapped when he turned on her in a rage.
Passengers went on squeezing through the narrow opening. Twenty... Fifteen… Not fast enough.
“Go, go,” she encouraged.
Cody also reflected that they were lucky the train had stopped where it did, not further into the dark tunnel, and that the doors were not blocked.
“I’m Jim, by the way.” The construction worker had stayed behind to help.
“Cody,” she nodded tightly.
“It’s a bomb?” he muttered. “Really?”
“Don’t know for certain. Let’s just get out of here, eh?”
“You bet!”
This may turn out to be nothing. Maybe just a prank from Swastika man, and a stupid gesture to go with it. But this, Cody knew, was probably wishful thinking on her part. Someone must know something in order to trigger a full emergency evacuation. She clenched her teeth as she recalled her partner’s nightmares. Meanwhile, Jim slid one arm under the disabled man’s legs to lift him up. His eyes shone with resolve and determination.
“Let’s getcha out, man.”
“Thank you… Thank you,” the white-haired man said in a trembling voice.
“No problem. Detective, clear the way for us, will you?”