In the Belly of the Beast

27

The warehouse door was unlocked and slightly ajar. They silently eased it open and crept inside – senses heightened, nerves beyond the breaking point, guns drawn.

Feeble light from a second story office filtered through grimy windows, illuminating everything inside with a dim, dishwater gloominess. They let their eyes grow accustom to the bad light.

Abby could just make out hulking pieces of rusting equipment scattered about the cavernous space. There were empty boxes and overturned crates everywhere.

Too much clutter, she thought. Too many shadows. Too many places to hide. Abby's senses raced on over-drive, and she savored the adrenaline rush.

Traynor was just to her right, moving forward. She lost sight of him behind a large piece of machinery. She squinted in the dimness and spied what looked like a pair of shoes and pants legs sticking out behind an overturned crate. From what she could see, which wasn't much, the limbs appeared perfectly still.

She edged forward to investigate, wanting to call out to Traynor, but not wishing to give her position away. Just as she cleared a large overturned wooden crate, she felt the icy cold touch of a gun barrel against the skin on her neck.

"Make one sound, and you're dead," a voice as cold as the gun barrel whispered.

She froze. Time stopped. He held her in limbo for what seemed like an eternity. She felt sweat beads pop out on her forehead. A salty teardrop ran its rivulet into her eye. She felt its sting but only blinked.

The man was softly chuckling.

He was getting off on this. She cursed her own stupidity at having let her guard down, focusing only on the body in front of her instead of on the whole scene.

She was barely breathing, yet she could smell her own fear.

"Thought you'd surprise me, did you? Catch Double V with his pants down, huh? Not a chance. I knew you were coming. So now, I guess it looks like the surprise is on you."

She heard the hammer cock and his voice whisper, "Nighty night. Sweet dreams."

In the instant her heart stopped, she heard the clank of movement echo down the warehouse corridor. Double V's attention was riveted to the sound for a split second. The gun barrel dropped from her neck.

An ear-shattering explosion and the flash of a muzzle discharged before her face. A lifeless thud of dead weight hit the floor behind her.

She turned, wide-eyed and ashen, to see his sprawling corpse upon the warehouse floor.

Double V was dead.

Traynor was beside her, to scoop her up as her knees buckled. She was shaking uncontrollably, and her breathing came in broken gasps.

"That's one down," Tray whispered. "You stay here while I make sure the area's secure. With V, who knows, it would be just like him to plant some of his men around earlier to push the odds in his favor. Back in a jif."

He let her fall in a crumpled heap between the two dead bodies. A few minutes later, he returned.

"We're alone, as far as I can tell, but this place will be crawling with soon."

"He's one of ours," she whispered.

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

"The guy V took out. He's a street cop. I recognize him from nights."

"Damn, if he isn't," Traynor said after looking more closely at the corpse's face. "What in the hell's he doing meeting with scum like V? We'll sort that out later. You o.k.?"

"Yeah. Tray . . . but he knew we were coming," she said softly.

"Who? V?"

"Yeah. From what he said to me when he shoved the gun barrel into my neck, he was expecting us."

"Damn. Another piece of the puzzle. We'll work on that later, too."

He looked into her eyes.

"Buck up, kid. Looks like the cavalry's arrived."

She heard the screaming wail of sirens.

"There's gonna be a million questions to answer and a ton of paperwork," he said.

"Yeah," she said, "don't I know it. What a nightmare."

It would more likely turn out to be just the beginning of the nightmare. She'd escaped death, but she would surely be thrown into an IA investigation.

Internal Affairs would have more questions than answers, and the only two people who could solve the riddles – why was the cop in the warehouse that night, and how had Double V known to expect heat – would be starring on the morgue slab soon.

One more dirty cop, Abby thought ruefully.

A leak somewhere in the department? It had to be.

One more bruise on everyone who carried a shield.