Connections in Death (In Death, #48)- J. D. Robb Page 0,92
it lessened, she still felt it all the way to her fingertips, as she pivoted, danced back, fired another stream.
Maybe she tasted her own blood in her mouth, but the goddamn tank finally went down jittering.
“Couldn’t get to you, LT.” Detective Carmichael, one eye swollen, dropped down, slapped restraints on the thick wrists. Then a second pair for good measure. “Couldn’t get a clear stream.”
“Jones?”
Carmichael pointed. “I’m on your six.”
Slower now—of the twelve they’d seen in the room, nine were down and restrained—she moved through the mess of the living area toward what she took to be a kind of meeting room. Big table, chairs, a couple of wall screens.
A window stood open wide with the night wind blowing through. She gestured for Carmichael to hold, then crouched, rolled.
Jones stood planted, stunner raised. “You’re done, bitch.”
He fired, and from the quick slap and heat against her coat, she judged he’d bumped it to full, aimed at her heart.
It only took an instant for his fierce grin to fade in shock, and another for her to drop him.
“Looks like he’s the bitch who’s done,” Carmichael said. “I’ve got to get me one of those coats.”
“Lock him down, and let’s clean up the rest of this mess.”
She circled around, through another door to the hall. Found Baxter clearing the individual flops. “Your nose is bleeding, LT,” he said with a glance at her.
“It’s not broken.”
“Bet it hurts anyway. Trueheart’s hauling some of them out. We found a naked girl trying to hide in a bathtub. My boy’s blushing, but he’s getting her out and into the wagon.”
“Good.”
“They had a little more trouble than we did upstairs, so we gave them a hand. Got the three contained. All kinds of goodies up there, boss. Some cash money, ID maker, weapons, and enough illegals to keep you zoned out for a couple years.”
“Also good. We get twenty-five?”
“Can’t tell you for sure. We bagged eight.”
“Jorgenson?”
“Oh yeah. He was the little bit more trouble upstairs.”
“Very good.” She swiped at the blood dripping from her nose. “Let’s get a count. Where’s Peabody?”
“Here I am.”
Eve turned to see her partner hobbling up the stairs. She had blood seeping from several cuts and scrapes on her sheet-pale face.
“Ouch,” Baxter said, then hurried to get a supporting arm around her.
“What the hell happened?”
“I sort of fell down the stairs—with the naked having-sex guy. He kind of went crazy, and I had to tackle him, then he pulled me down the stairs. But I got him. I got the naked guy.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“I got a little banged up. You, too.”
“Did you break anything?”
“I don’t think.”
“I think she’s a little shocky, Dallas.”
Nodding at Baxter, Eve ran her hands over Peabody’s arms, down her legs. Nothing felt broken. “Hold on.”
She moved back into the living space. “Jenkinson, Reineke, get a team and clear the house, every room. Santiago, Carmichael, get the rest into the wagon.”
“Some are going to need medical attention, Lieutenant.”
“That’s next.” She tapped her comm. “Lowenbaum, we’re controlled and clearing.”
“Copy that. We got five who slipped out. A couple of them thought the van looked like a nice getaway. Didn’t work out for them.”
Five outside, she thought, eight from Baxter’s count. She counted seven restrained or being restrained from the living area.
“Clean sweep. McNab, we need the MTs. Got some bad guys down. Listen, Peabody got a little banged up. We’re bringing her out.”
Like Baxter, she got an arm around Peabody, started taking her down the stairs. They hadn’t gotten halfway when McNab charged up.
“Hey, hey!” He saw blood, bruises, dazed eyes. “Did you take a hit?”
“I hit lots of places when I fell down the stairs. My face.”
“It’s my best girl’s face.”
“Aw.”
“I’ve got her.” He put his arms around her. “Marley’s pulling in medical. I’ve got her,”
“Go on back and help sweep it up,” Eve told Baxter. “I need to check in with Strong, and the van. I’ll be back.”
She walked down behind McNab and the hobbling Peabody, then blinked when skinny-assed McNab picked Peabody up to carry her the rest of the way.
“Strong,” she said into her comm. “Can you report?”
“Can and will. Ho and eight others are in custody. We got a few bumps, no serious injuries. Your team?”
“Bagged them all. Some bumps,” she added as she watched McNab carry Peabody to a mobile medical. “Sweep the place, Strong. Good work. I’ll see you back at Central.”
She kept walking to the van where a couple of men were still on the ground. One of the uniforms hauled one to