Desperation in Death (In Death #55)(101)

“Shock stick—just a graze. Hurts like hell, but I’m good.”

“Listen up!” She shouted it, and most of the wailing eased off. “We’re the police, we’re the good guys. You’re safe now, and we’re going to get you out.”

“Rescue’s heading up, sir,” Marshall told her.

“Hold here until. Shelby’s got two more girls in the studio, and three suspects down. Peabody, with me. We clear the floor.”

“You can’t leave us! You can’t leave us,” one of the girls screamed. “I want my mom!”

“We’re not leaving you,” Peabody said in her Peabody way. “Nobody’s going to hurt you anymore, and we’re going to get you to your mom.”

Fuck it, Eve thought. “Stay, stay with Marshall until Rescue gets them out.”

“Dallas.”

“Stay.”

She cleared as she went. Empty rooms, hardly more than cells, locked storage areas holding shock sticks, collars, batons, stunners.

A lot of weaponry, she thought, against a bunch of kids.

She came to another locked door—a double set. High probability, she remembered, for Auntie’s office.

“Roarke, do you read?”

“I do.”

“I’m at Beaty’s office door. Can you deactivate the lock? No access at this time to a ram, and it’s secured like the stair doors.”

“Not anymore it’s not.”

“Oh, okay then. Stand by.”

She pushed in, swept.

Efficient luxury, she decided. Fancy desk, high-end D and C, cushy furnishings, private bathroom, she recalled from the blueprints.

And with the office door shut behind her, she heard nothing from outside the room.

“EDD, give me a read on heat sources, my location.”

“Just you, LT,” Jamie told her.

“Read on top floor.”

“One.”

“There you are,” she murmured.

“Willowby, second level. We’re clear. I have an injured officer, twenty-six girls, thirteen motherfuckers. Baxter’s team on assist and now moving up to the next level to assist McNab’s team.”

“First floor clear and secured. Heading up. Jamie, monitor that heat source. I want to know where she moves if she moves.”

On the second floor, she found Rescue escorting girls out, weeping girls, silent ones with glazed eyes.

“Dallas.” Willowby swiped a hand over her forehead. “Permission to bring in two more from SVU. We’ve got a lot of vics here.”

“Granted. The injured officer?”

“She took a baton hit to the arm. Looks broken. Medical’s on the way.”

“I’m moving up.” She held up a finger as Jenkinson spoke in her ear. “Copy that. Have medical take her, call for removal of the suspects. Infirmary level’s clear,” she told Willowby. “We got the doctor, another so-called medical, and an unconscious girl strapped to the damn table. Brought her in this morning—that vehicle driving out of the tunnels.”

“Did we get them?”

“We got them. I’m heading up,” she said again.

On the next level, she took out a fleeing woman with a bare-knuckled fist to the face. Stopped short of doing the same when she realized the one charging her was maybe twelve.

“Hey, hey.” Eve blocked the punch. “I’m a cop. I’m here to get you out.”

“Fuck the fucking cops.”

Eve dodged the kick, pivoted, and wrapped her arms around the girl from behind.

“Stop, stop now.”

“I’ll kill you!”

“Knock it off! Jesus Christ, Trueheart,” she said when he, mouth bleeding, ran her way.

“Sorry, Lieutenant. Some of the kids scattered. They’re scared.”

“I get that, but— I said knock it off!” Eve snapped when the kid tried to kick Trueheart. “We’re the NYPS-fucking-D, and we’re getting you the hell out of here. There are a lot of girls in here these bastards snatched and hurt, and we’re going to help them. If you run when I let you go, you’re on your own.”

“I’ve been on my own my whole life.”

“Yeah, sad story.” She nearly sighed with relief when a Rescue team came through the stairwell door. “You can go with them, help us put the fuckers who did this to you, and all the others, in cages, or you can take off and help them keep doing it.”

“Screw them, screw you, and everybody else.”

“Okay then.” Eve released her. “Go.”

The girl rounded on Eve.

“Lottie,” Eve said. “Lottie Crug.”

“How the hell do you know? I don’t know where the hell I am, and screw you, I’m not leaving Carrie.”

“Who’s Carrie?”

The girl’s eyes went to molten slits. “Trainee 282.” She snarled it. “They took her down for vids, the fucking pervs, and—”

“Describe her.”

“She’s a white girl, long blond hair, and—”

“Blue eyes, maybe a hundred pounds. Carrie Wheeler.” Another face on her board, Eve thought. “We got her out, her and the girl they had with her. The three assholes who held them in there are currently in lockup.”