Divided in Death (In Death #18)(115)

"Not if you go floor by floor." Eve paced as she thought it through. "Not a bomb scare. An electrical problem? Something that irritates but doesn't panic."

"A potential leak-hazardous waste, chemicals. And keep it vague," Roarke suggested. "Floor-by-floor evac will take considerable time, and a great many cops."

"I don't want to pull any more into this than necessary. A small, tight unit of the Crisis Team for backup. Move fast, keep it smooth, and we can evac in under an hour. We box him in, that's what we do. We box him in." She stopped, studied the diagram again. "Three exits on the studio?"

"That's correct. Main corridor, elevator to lobby, and the cargo elevator to the roof."

"No glides on the Flatiron, that's a plus."

"And more aesthetically pleasing," Roarke added.

"We block off the elevators. We can bring in a unit from CT on the roof. And we come in from the corridor after he's boxed. If we can get him in this end, the narrow end, he won't have much room to maneuver. We work out the tacticals on this space, and we work out tacticals on the studio. And on the space below. He might be in there. But we need to know where he is when we go in, and we need to blindfold him to the fact we're coming."

"We can do that."

She angled her head, looked down at Roarke. "Can we?"

"Mmm." He took her hand and, watching her horrified expression, brought it smoothly to his lips before she could jerk it free. "The lieutenant doesn't like me to nibble on her when she's coordinating an op. So I can never resist."

"There's just too much sex around here," Feeney grumbled from his station.

"How can we verify his position inside the building and blindfold him?" Eve demanded with what she considered admirable patience.

"Why don't you work out your tacticals and leave those pesky details to me. Reva, how much time do you need to shut down the security and undermine the monitors in this sector of the building?"

Brow creased, Reva fisted her hands on her hips. "I'll let you know after I study the specs."

"You'll have them in a minute. I'll need a few things from Securecomp," Roarke said to Tokimoto. "Would you mind getting them?"

"Not at all." His lips curved. "I think I know what you have in mind."

"Let's leave the geeks to it, then." Eve started out, turned back. "I meant the civilian geeks," she said when Feeney and McNab stayed in place.

***

It took her an hour to work out an approach that minimized risk to civilians and her team, and longer to push through the red tape for clearance to evacuate an entire building.

"We know he's got a short-range launcher. We don't know what other toys he has in there. Boomers, chemical weapons, flash grenades. He won't hesitate to use them to protect himself or to expedite an escape. He's more dangerous because he's not trained in weaponry. Guy who doesn't know what the hell he's doing with a few flash grenades will do more damage than one who does."

"We clear the building, we could pump some gas in the vents, put him to sleep," McNab suggested.

"We can't be sure he doesn't have filters or a mask. He likes the secret agent toys. Once we verify where he is, we box in that sector. We close off alternate exits, take down the door. We go in fast, and we get him under control. There's nothing in his dossier that indicates any training or skill in hand-to-hand beyond the basics. That doesn't mean he's not dangerous."

"He's going to panic." Feeney pulled on his bottom lip. "First kills were incapacitated when he took them out. He drugs the McCoy girl, does Powell while he's zoned. Tried to hit Sparrow from a distance. This is face-to-face, so if he isn't taken quick, he's going to panic. More dangerous that way."

"Agreed. He's an amateur who thinks he's a pro. His life's screwed. He's pissed off and scared, with no place to go and nothing much to lose. Civilians are our first priority because he won't think twice about taking any out, and we don't know what kind of firepower he's got in there. We remove the civilians, box him in. Take him out. And we want him breathing. He's a key to the case against Sparrow. I don't want to lose him."

"You're going to end up fighting the spooks for him," McNab said. "They're going to want him."

"Exactly. I need Bissel to lock down the case on conspiracy to murder. I want to win this one. Feeney, I need you working with the geeks-with Ewing and Tokimoto," she corrected. "However much Roarke trusts them, I want you at the helm on whatever electronics go into this op. Ewing's tough, and she's pulling her weight, but she might lose it in the crunch."

"She's held up better than most, but I'm with you on that." Feeney dug out his bag of almonds. "This is going to shake her some. I'll stay on top of it."

"The Crisis Team is backup, backup only. I don't want them cowboying this. Four of us go in, two teams of two. McNab and Peabody, I don't want you guys thinking of each other as anything but cops. No personal feelings go through the door. If you can't deal, tell me now."

"It's a little hard for me to think of McNab as a cop when he's wearing a shirt the color of a persimmon." Peabody sent him an arched look. "But otherwise, no problem."