The Syndrome

Bonilla was happy to clarify it for him. Taking a step toward the cop, he stood chin to chin with him, and said, “You been watchin’ too much television, my man. ‘Cause we don’t have precincts in Washington. It’s ‘districts,’ you dumb fuck—next time, do your homework.” Then he nodded suddenly and forcefully in the cop’s direction, driving his forehead into the freckled bridge of the Leprechaun’s nose.

Something snapped, blood flew, and the cop cried out in pain as Bonilla spun him around, then clasped him in an awkward embrace, the Duke pressing against the soft flesh under the cop’s jaw. “Be cool,” Bonilla whispered, then turned to the Bear. “Why don’t you just turn around, and put your hands against the wall. And you—” He nodded toward Duran. “—get over here where I can see you.”

Adrie

Bonilla turned to her. “Call 911,” he said, then seeing the Bear reach into his jacket, shouted at him. “Against the wall, asshole, I told you!”

But the Bear wasn’t listening. With almost supernatural calm, he pulled a large black handgun from the shoulder sling under his coat. Holding it in one hand, he removed a fat, metal cylinder from his coat pocket, and began to screw it onto the end of the gun barrel.

Completely incredulous, Bonilla laughed—nervously. “I don’t believe this guy.”

But then the silencer was in place, and the Bear took a step forward. Raising the gun, he began firing in a slow and deliberate way. Pop. Pop. Pop.

Adrie

Adrie

With one hand on Duran’s throat, holding him hard against the floor, the Bear put the gun to Duran’s temple—then drew back. Instead of firing, he brought the butt of the gun down against Duran’s forehead, knocking him senseless. Then he climbed to his feet and, brushing himself off, crossed the room to where Adrie

Pop… pop… pop.

Finally, he turned to Adrie

Click. Adrie

Then a spray of blood flew into her face as Duran slammed a desk lamp into the back of the big man’s head, driving him into the floor like a stake. This time, she found her voice, and the yelp of terror that came from her mouth nearly rattled the windows.

By then, Duran had jerked her to her feet, and they were moving toward the door, splashing through the blood that lay in pools around Eddie and the Leprechaun. For Adrie

Turning the corner, they found themselves in front of the elevators. Duran slapped the call button, which flared and chimed as the doors wheezed open. Releasing Adrie

She couldn’t believe it. She was bereft. He’d saved her, and now—she could hear the Bear shambling toward them down the corridor.

Then Duran came out of the elevator, as quickly as he’d stepped in. Grabbing her hand, he pulled her down the corridor as the doors rattled shut, and the elevator began its descent. Turning a corner in the hallway, Duran tried one door after another until he found one that opened. Darting inside, they found themselves in the trash room that served the sixth floor.

As the door closed behind them, Adrie

She wanted to scream, but what good would that do? It might bring someone into the corridor, but the man who was following them wouldn’t be stopped—he’d killed his own partner just to get at Bonilla. So she stood where she was, staring at the light behind the ventilation grid under the door.

Down the hall, she could hear the Bear coming at a run, then turning back, and ru

Then, quite suddenly, his legs were visible behind the ventilation grid. Instinctively, her hand tightened upon Duran’s arm. But just as quickly as the Bear had come, he was gone, footsteps padding down the hall. She heard the stairwell door open with a pressurized whoosh—followed by a stillness in which she could imagine him standing, stock-still and listening for her. Then he was moving again, stumbling back past their doorway, his legs momentarily obliterating the light.

The door’s hydraulic mechanism was obviously set so that the heavy fire door would close slowly and gently, rather than with a crash. And when, after what seemed a long while, it swung shut with a loud, metallic click, Adrie

But, no. The elevator chimed. The doors rattled open. And, moments later, she could hear the cables’ whir as the conveyance sank toward the ground floor. She took a step.

“Not yet,” Duran whispered.

It seemed as if they were quiet for a very long time, but maybe not. Standing in the dark like this turned seconds into minutes, minutes into hours. Adrie

Or had they been?

She dismissed the thought as soon as it occurred to her. Those weren’t detectives, she thought. No policeman would do what the big man had done. They were killers, pure killers. “It won’t hurt…”