Silent Night - By Tom Barber Page 0,36

off outside a house just off Ditmars in Astoria about twenty minutes ago.’

Without another word, both men ran for their car, the CRT specialist watching them go.

EIGHTEEN

At the house, Bleeker and Donnie had almost finished packing. Neither of them lived there. It belonged to Bleeker’s brother Hurley who was doing time upstate for armed robbery, and had been an ideal hide-out last night, totally off the grid and no obvious connection to the four men. Bleeker was on the ground floor in one of two side bedrooms beyond the kitchen. He’d already ditched his ID and bankcards, planning to get some forgeries once they left the state. As he quickly stuffed his belongings into a holdall, he glanced over at the last remaining bomb resting on a bed beside the bag. Ray’s bomb. It should have gone off on the platform at Times Square 42 Street this morning, but Ray stepped out late last night and had never returned.

His disappearance was confusing and unnerving. Ray was tough, and not the kind of guy to get cold feet. Bleeker had a gut instinct about what had happened to him and who had done it, and that meant he and Donnie had to get the hell out of there right now.

He reached over to the make-shift viral bomb and carefully unclipped the cylinder. Keeping it in his hand and scooping up the bag with the other, he walked quickly into the kitchen. Placing his bag on a chair he stepped over to the fridge and pulled open the door.

Inside, beside some milk and a half-drunk six pack of Miller, was the last vial of the virus.

Bleeker hadn’t anticipated Ray’s no show but despite that, their current situation was still pretty good. He and Donnie now had two vials to sell and this morning’s work was a clear demonstration to any potential buyers of the virus’s power. The price had just gone up exponentially. There would be plenty of people out there willing to pay it. He took the other vial off the shelf in the fridge and studied it. This small, harmless looking glass cylinder was worth far more than the house he was standing in. Maybe more than the entire street.

He carefully wrapped both vials in cotton padding, then placed them in a box which he sealed and tucked into his bag. Then he moved over to the sink and opened a cupboard by the window, reaching inside and pushing some cereal boxes out of the way. He pulled out a Beretta handgun and a magazine with fifteen 9mm Parabellum shells pushed inside. He slammed the mag into the pistol, pulled the top slide and checked the safety then slid it into the bag too. He checked his watch and glanced at the television showing footage from the Seaport. There were ESU cops and what had to be NYPD detectives in every shot, crowds of onlookers filling South and Water Streets.

They’d already be hunting for whoever left the device inside the store.

As would others.

‘Let’s go!’ he called to Donnie, urgency in his voice.

Speeding down 33 Street in Astoria, the subway line overhead, Josh and Archer saw Shepherd waiting for them around the corner on Ditmars Boulevard, pulled up to the kerb on the left. He’d already strapped a black bulletproof vest over his torso, NYPD clearly visible in white letters on the front and back. He was loading a Mossberg 590A1 shotgun while standing by the trunk of his car. Parking behind him, Archer and Josh jumped out of their own Ford and moved rapidly to the back of their vehicle, just as a third Ford pulled up behind them. Turning as he fastened a bulletproof vest in place, Archer saw it was Marquez and Jorgensen.

His vest on, Josh pulled out two Mossbergs from their stowed positions in the trunk and started loading them. Designed by OF Mossberg and Sons, a Swedish immigrant’s company based up in Connecticut, the 590A1 was a modification of the 500 model. With an eight shell magazine chamber and metal trigger guard and safety catch, the black aluminium and steel pump-action shotgun was an old favourite of the US Army and a new one of the NYPD. The old Department-issue Ithaca 37 was being slowly phased out and in the next few years every squad car in the five boroughs would have a Mossberg up front by the radio. Mossberg and Sons claimed it was the only weapon of its kind to pass the Army’s military