Chapter 4 - The Ally in Uniform
The brass door handle rattled once, twice, and then clicked open.
Officer Daniel Reeves stepped across the threshold, his flashlight cutting through the dusty darkness of the garage.
He did not have his weapon drawn, but his hand hovered inches away from the tactical holster on his hip.
He spotted Adrian collapsed on the concrete within three seconds.
Sophie stepped between the officer and the fallen man, her jaw set, her fists clenched at her sides.
"Step away from him, miss," Reeves said quietly, closing the garage door behind him to block the pouring rain.
"If you touch him, you'll have to kill me first," Sophie said, her voice shaking but resolute.
"Sophie, back down," Adrian coughed from the floor, struggling to prop his back against the Buick's front tire.
"He has a badge and a gun. You don't stand a chance."
Eleanor did not move from the shadows near the workbench.
She leaned on her cane and looked at Reeves with eyes as cold as arctic ice.
"Did you come to finish what your friends started down at the docks, officer?"
Reeves stood still for several agonizing seconds, listening to the muffled crackle of his police radio.
Through the speaker on his chest, a distorted voice was giving orders to the tactical teams outside.
"All units on perimeter, suspect is considered armed and extremely dangerous. Authorized to use lethal force upon identification."
Reeves reached down with his left hand, switched his police radio completely off, and dropped the volume to zero.
Then he pulled a small black thumb drive from his front breast pocket and held it out toward Eleanor.
The gesture was so completely unexpected that neither Sophie nor Adrian spoke.
"My partner was shot in the back three weeks ago near Pier 40," Reeves said, his voice stripped of all official authority.
"The department ruled it an accidental discharge during an undercover bust."
"They buried the ballistics report in twenty-four hours."
Adrian stared up at the officer from the floor, his eyes narrowing through the pain.
"What does that have to do with me?"
"The shell casings that killed my partner didn't come from your syndicate's weapons, Russo," Reeves replied coldly.
"They came from the service-issued sidearms carried by Captain Vance's tactical squad."
"Vance is heading the operation outside this mansion right now."
Sophie looked between the officer and Adrian, the pieces of a terrifying puzzle beginning to lock into place.
"The video on Adrian's phone," Sophie realized aloud.
"It shows Vance's men executing the witness at the docks."
"Exactly," Reeves said, looking directly at Sophie.
"The man they killed at Pier 42 was an internal affairs investigator who had spent six months gathering proof that Vance was selling confiscated narcotics back to the street cartels."
"They lured him down there under the pretense of an informant meeting."
"Adrian's car was spotted nearby, so Vance decided to kill two birds with one stone: eliminate the investigator and pin the homicide on the city's most notorious crime heir."
Adrian let out a harsh, bitter laugh that ended in a painful cough.
"And you expect me to trust a cop who just tracked me to my family's private garage?"
"You don't have to trust me, Russo," Reeves said, tossing the thumb drive onto the hood of the Buick.
"On that drive are the encrypted radio frequencies Vance is using tonight."
"They aren't using the city dispatch channels."
"They are running this hit on an off-grid frequency so there won't be any audio recordings on the city servers."
"Why are you helping us?" Eleanor asked, taking a slow step toward the officer.
"Because my partner had two young daughters, Mrs. Russo," Reeves said, his voice tightening with suppressed grief.
"And if Vance manages to put your grandson in a body bag tonight, the truth about my partner’s murder dies with him."
A heavy thud shook the garage doors from the outside.
A flashlight beam swept across the frosted glass panes from the courtyard driveway.
"Reeves! Are you in that carriage house?" a voice shouted over the wind.
Reeves didn't flinch.
He looked down at Sophie.
"Start the car. The rear alley gate is locked with a rusted padlock, but this old Buick will bust right through the rotten wood."
"Where do we take him?" Sophie asked, helping Adrian scramble into the back seat.
"Not to his private attorney," Reeves warned immediately.
"Your lawyer, Thomas Greer, is on Vance’s payroll."
"Greer gave them the exact coordinates of Adrian's meeting downtown tonight."
Adrian’s head snapped toward the officer, his face twisting with rage.
"Greer has worked for my father for twenty years!"
"Greer took two million dollars from the port commission last month to clear his offshore debts," Reeves countered brutally.
"He sold you out before you even left your office this morning."
The door handle of the garage began to rattle violently from the outside.
"Reeves! Open the door!"
Reeves drew his service weapon, aimed it at the deadbolt of the pedestrian side door, and fired a single deafening shot into the lock mechanism.
The steel latch jammed completely, sealing the door from the outside.
"Get in the car and drive!" Reeves shouted over the roaring rain.
"Turn left at the service alley and don't touch the main avenues!"
Sophie jumped into the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition.
The old V8 engine coughed once, sputtered through clouds of old dust, and then roared to life with a deep, mechanical growl.
Eleanor slid into the front passenger seat, slamming the heavy door shut.
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"Floor it, girl!" Eleanor ordered, pointing her silver cane straight at the wooden carriage doors.
Sophie jammed the transmission into gear, slammed her foot onto the accelerator, and closed her eyes for a split second as the heavy American steel crashed through the splintering doors into the storm.
