Betrayal in Death

"Well, we'll see what we see." He bent down and picked up the cat, who was rubbing against his legs. "I'm for bed. Oh, Roarke," he said when he reached the door, "if you've time later I'd like to discuss the business I mentioned to you before."

"I'll have my admin work it in."

"God, listen to the man. Admin working it in," he said to Galahad as he carried cat and coffee away. "Did you ever hear the like of it?"

"Other business?"

"Perfume," Roarke said. "And legal. Whatever else he might be up to, I've told him I'm not interested as it would displease my cop. I'll make those calls for you."

"Why is your unit beeping in there?"

"Is it?" He shifted his thoughts, heard the signal. Gri

She was on his heels as he walked into his office, then leaning over his shoulder as he studied the data, skimming over the monitor.

"Hmmm. On wall screen," he ordered, and shifting his stance studied the run of numbers and slashing lines.

"What are they? Coordinates?"

"Yes, exactly. This is very interesting. Computer, display New York City street map, screen two. He did a bit of bouncing right here in the city as well. A good cloak, a smart move because it tends to skew the directional search when it becomes that finite."

"What do you mean, East Side to West Side, that kind of thing?" She tried to decipher the numbers, and ended up frustrated.

"More or less. But he shoots back and forth, up and down, a little side trip to Long Island and back. It gives us a couple of possibilities, but the most likely… Computer, enhance grid, Upper West Side. Ah, yes. Now decode directional formula to street location, and match. Do you see?" Roarke asked Eve, laying a hand on her neck as the computer screens flashed and changed. "It appears Yost is a neighbor."

"That's four blocks away. Four fucking blocks."

"Yes. Obviously you and I don't stroll through the neighborhood often enough."

"We never stroll through the neighborhood. How sure are you?"

"Ninety percent."

"Sure enough. Okay, I need a description of that building, the layout, the tenant list, security setup."

"That should be simple enough. Actually, I think I own that building."

"Think?"

"One does lose track occasionally. Computer, who owns the property currently displayed on screen two?"

Working… Property is owned and maintained by Roarke Industries.

"Ah, there we are. Just let me take a look at my real estate files. I'll have the data for you in a moment."

"Lose track occasionally?" she repeated, staring at him. "Of an entire building?"

"I do a bit of buying and selling of property, particularly in my own backyard." He smiled at her. "Everyone needs a hobby."

He sat down, settled in, and brought up the tenant list first. "That's lovely, isn't it? Fully occupied. I do hate seeing nice apartments vacant."

"Cut out the families, the couples, those with roommates, and all single women."

The computer acknowledged her directive, making her jolt a bit before she realized Roarke had it programmed to accept her voice commands.

The list narrowed to ten.

"Bring up application for rent data."

She skimmed down the new information, mentally discarding men over sixty or under forty. And now there were two.

"Jacob Hawthorne, computer analyst, age fifty-three. Single. Estimated a

"Agreed."

"Several years shaved off the age, but I like Hawthorne. Do a run on both these single males. Let's be sure. Damn sure. I'm calling it in."

Within two hours, Eve had her team assembled in her home office. Added to the investigative team were twenty Special Tactics officers and ten hand-selected uniforms. Some might call it overkill, but she wasn't going to risk Yost slipping through a hole.

While she waited for the warrant for search and seize to come through, she ran over the plan yet again.

"There are fifty-six units in the building. They are all occupied. Civilian safety remains a priority."

The building's blueprints were up on-screen. Eve used a laser pointer to highlight each section as she spoke. "Our information indicates that the subject occupies the top floor. There are no other units on that floor. All elevators and glides will be inoperable. Stair access will be blocked off. We don't want him getting off that floor and taking any hostages. This unit has four exits. Two men from Team B will be stationed at each exit. Team A will handle building exits. On command, black-and-whites will move in here, and here, closing off the street to all outgoing and incoming traffic. Subject is not to be terminated. All weapons on stun, medium setting."

She glanced away from the screen to scan faces, to judge and measure. "This is a professional assassin, and he's managed to elude and evade authorities for more than forty years. Confirmed and suspected kills top forty during that time period. He's smart, and he's fast, and he's dangerous. Containing and capturing him within the building is our top objective. If those efforts fail, the second line will take him down. Full-body armor is required for all team members."

She turned back, used a remote to split the screen and bring up Yost's face. "This is our man. You all have printouts of this image. Be aware that he uses disguises. Captain Feeney will explain EDD's function in this operation."

Feeney sniffed, pulled on his nose, got to his feet. "Security cams on that floor will be adjusted to relay direct to Base One. We have verified the subject is in target area as of thirty minutes ago. We will re-verify before moving in.

"All the subject will see if he checks his monitor is an empty hallway. We can't stop him from scratching his ass and looking out his windows, so all team members and uniformed backups will keep to their stations until ordered otherwise. I'll run Base One, and with Lieutenant Dallas will coordinate all movements. Communicators are to be set on Cha

Eve nodded. "Detective McNab and Officer Peabody, along with Lieutenant Marks and myself, will move in on the subject, using this entrance. All movements will be transmitted to Base One, and to each team leader. Any questions?"

She waited, again watching faces. These were hard men and hard women. They knew their job.

"Go down to your units and suit up. We'll begin the op as soon as the warrant comes through."

And what the hell was taking it so long? she wondered as the room emptied. She'd called in the data and request nearly two hours before. She'd need to tag the judge again, give him a goose.

Then she looked at Feeney. He outranked her, and had considerably more tact. It was likely the judge would respond to him more quickly.

"Feeney, they're dicking with this warrant. Want to see what you can do to expedite?"

"Politics." He might have grumbled, but he walked to her desk 'link to make the call. While he worked, she moved over to Roarke.

"We appreciate your help with the security cams and the layout. This should go off fast and smooth."

Should, he thought, was a disturbing word. "As owner of the building, I can insist on accompanying you to the penthouse."

"That's bullshit, and you know it. Keep it up, and I'll change my mind about letting you hang with Feeney at Base One. I know how to apprehend a suspect, Roarke, so don't distract me."

"Where's your body armor?"

"Peabody's got it. It's hot and it's heavy, so I'm not suiting up until I have to." She glanced back, her brow creasing as she heard Feeney's squawk. "Something's up," she muttered, and had just started across the room when Commander Whitney walked in.