Silent Night

FORTY ONE

Fifteen minutes later Josh was being loaded into an ambulance on a frame back down on the street. Luckily they were only a few blocks from Roosevelt Hospital and a medical team had arrived fast. Josh had taken the round in the upper arm; the ambulance team said he was going to be fine but they needed to get him into surgery and extract the bullet immediately. They finished locking him in place in the back and were feeding him oxygen.

Standing by the rear doors, Archer and Marquez watched. Lying on the bed, medics working either side of him, Josh saw the two detectives and lifted the hand of his good arm. They raised theirs back in acknowledgement as the doors were pulled shut from the inside. Then the ambulance sped off on its way to the hospital.

Watching it go, Archer turned and saw Shepherd standing alone near the entrance of the building. The street was pretty busy around him but he’d tuned it all out, lost in his own thoughts. They’d just wheeled out Sway’s body-bag and were taking it to the morgue in a separate ambulance. His prints had already been taken and a match had come back from Charlotte-Mecklenburg PD. The kid’s name was Reese Sway, no middle name. Finn Sway’s younger brother. He’d been charged for vagrancy and theft but had never served time. Watching Shepherd, Archer heard Josh’s voice in his mind. Hell of a thing. Man tries to defend his home, ends up killing his own son. Reese Sway had been young. Archer could imagine the memories pulling the trigger had stirred up. He stepped his way through the assembled throng of police and onlookers, and approached Shepherd.

‘Josh is on his way,’ Archer said. ‘He’s going to be fine.’

‘Great.’

Archer saw the look on his face. 'You had no choice, sir.’

'There's always a choice.' Shepherd shook his head angrily. 'Stupid kid.'

'He tried to kill Josh. He tried to kill the doctor and me at the lab. He wasn't a kid.'

Jorgensen walked over. Shepherd saw him approaching.

‘Where are we with Finn Sway?’ he asked.

‘Rach can’t find him in the city,’ Jorgensen said. ‘But taxi and bus services have been informed as well as State borders. Dispatch is putting out his description. We’ll find him.'

Behind Jorgensen some news teams had just pitched up, hoping for a scoop after a headline-packed day. Shepherd glanced at them. 'I’m going to put the word out. Let’s get every New Yorker searching for this scumbag.’

The two detectives nodded. Shepherd rose and stepped towards to the waiting press, thinking of the dead boy.

Stupid kid.



Eleven miles to the west, Finn Sway had just arrived at Kearny Medical in New Jersey having taken a taxi. He’d considered using one of the cars left in the parking lot from the dead scientists upstairs, but decided he didn’t need the hassle and wanted to be able to jump into a vehicle at a moment’s notice. He stepped out and shut the door, paid the fare, then watched the guy leave. When the car was gone, Finn walked over to the lab complex and pulled open the door.

Rourke was standing inside behind the reception desk. Wicks and Drexler were sitting across the lobby, talking. All three of them turned and looked at Finn as he walked in.

‘Jacobs is dead,’ Finn said. ‘It was a set-up.’

Rourke nodded. ‘I heard.’

‘You finished?’

Rourke nodded again, slowly. ‘Van’s loaded. I’ll be done upstairs in a few minutes.’

‘We need to get out of here right now,’ said Finn. He suddenly paused and looked at Rourke. ‘What’s up with you?’

Rourke didn’t answer. Finn looked around.

‘Where the hell is Reese?’

Rourke glanced over his shoulder. From where he was standing, Finn could see an NY ONE report playing on the screen. The sound was low, but he could make out what the reporter was saying. ‘…were given no option but to shoot. The deceased has been officially named as Reese Sway.’ Finn froze. The shot flipped to a dark-haired cop standing on the street, flashing lights and a lot of activity behind him. Sergeant Matt Shepherd, NYPD Counter Terrorism Bureau was on the text block below. He started speaking to the reporter.

‘We cornered the man. I ordered him to drop his weapon but he ignored me and was about to shoot another of my detectives. We are still looking for another man, the deceased’s brother, Finn Sway. We ask all city residents to keep a lookout for this man and to report any sightings immediately.’

Finn’s prison mug-shot appeared on the screen.

‘I’m sorry,’ Rourke said.

Finn ignored him. He kept staring at the screen instead. At the image of the man who had killed his brother.

‘That son of a bitch,’ he said quietly. ‘I saw that a*shole earlier. He had me in handcuffs.’

‘Stay cool. We need to get the hell out of here now.’

‘Sergeant Matt Shepherd,’ Finn Sway repeated to himself quietly, ignoring Rourke. He turned and pointed at a computer on the desk in front of Rourke. 'Search him.'

Rourke looked at him for a moment, then decided not to argue and pulled up Google, typing in the man’s name.

Finn moved around the counter and watched the screen as Rourke scrolled down.

'Wait,’ he said, pointing at one of the first links. ‘Here.'

It was a small acknowledgement from the New York Post. Rourke clicked on it.

‘Hoboken High School wishes to acknowledge the generous donation to the new music department from Sergeant Matt Shepherd and his wife Beth in memory of their son Ricky Shepherd, who was recently killed in a tragic accident.’

It continued onto a second paragraph and Finn struck gold.

It gave the family’s home address.

Without another word, Finn grabbed a pad and scribbled it down, tearing the sheet off the page and stuffing it in his pocket. Then he pulled Rourke's modified Glock from the holster on his hip and turned to Wicks. 'Keys.'

Wicks nodded, tossing his set to him. Finn swung round and walked to the doors.

‘Where are you going?’ Rourke asked. ‘It’s open season on you right now!’

Sway ignored him, pushing open the doors and walking out into the parking lot. He pulled the mag from the Glock, checked the clip was loaded, then slotted it back inside the weapon. He pushed the button on the keys and the lights on a BMW flashed as the car unlocked. He ripped open the door and climbed inside as Rourke ran out of the building after him.

‘Finn!’

Firing the engine, Finn swung the car out of the lot and the tyres screeched as it roared off into the night. Cursing, Rourke turned and walked back into the building.

'We're leaving,' he said to his hit-team, who rose. He pulled another set of keys from his pocket and threw them to Wicks. 'You’re driving the hot van. All the canisters are inside. Go to the campsite and tell everyone to pack up.'

Wicks looked out into the lot. There were two white vans out there, parked side by side.

‘Which van?’

‘The one on the left.’

'What about you?'

He nodded to Drexler. 'We'll be right behind. I need to finish arming the gear upstairs.'

Wicks nodded. ‘See you soon.’

He pushed open the door and walked out into the parking lot.



On West 35th, Shepherd had just wrapped up the report he’d given the news teams when Marquez came running up the street.

'Sir!' He turned. 'Taxi company got in touch. One of their drivers told dispatch he took a man matching Sway's description out of the city. He dropped him off less than ten minutes ago.'

'Where to?'

'Kearny Medical Institute. It’s a lab complex out in New Jersey fifteen minutes from here.'

‘You’re driving,’ Shepherd said, running to the Ford Explorer containing Maddy Flood and Kruger and pulling open the door. Marquez jumped in beside him and fired the engine.

Jorgensen and Archer were right on their heels, then both stopped and looked at each other. There was one car left. And the two of them.

Which meant they’d be riding together.