Read an Excerpt
“What makes you
think I’ll work for you?” Doc Holloway asked.
Lt. Baker smiled. He reached
down and picked up the gym bag. He
opened it, removed Doc’s police ID folder, badge, and gun and placed them on the
bar.
“When you come back to full duty, you’ll have to turn in this .38 Special
and be issued a Glock 17, the department’s new standard sidearm. I prefer automatics, don’t you? The Glock 17 holds eighteen
rounds.
“Speaking of automatics, there’s a chrome-plated .45 I have in my
possession. It’s a murder weapon
and it’s got Brick Jones’ fingerprints on it. Excuse me, your
fingerprints.” He smiled. “That’s what makes me think
you’ll work for me.”
Doc frowned. Tudor’s – the
one he wanted Doc to shoot Huckabuck Franks with. For “insurance.” Of course.
Baker continued. “Tomorrow
at his news conference announcing the success of the Janus Project, Senator
Grumwald’s going to play you up as a hero for having brought down a major drug
operation. And believe you me,
Othello Hollinger’s not going to dispute that he’s ‘Mr.
Big.’”
“The dead tell no tales,” Doc interjected.
Baker sidestepped Doc’s comment and continued. “The bottom line is, you can be a hero
or you can be a convicted murderer.
What’ll it be?”
Doc gave it some thought then said, “Being a hero is
better.”
“Of course it is,” Baker agreed.
“I’m working with the Gang Task Force now as well as coordinating the
operations of the Gun Interdiction Unit and the Intelligence Division. When you’re ready to get back to work in
a month or two, I’ve got a gig for you.”
“Thank you,” Doc said flatly.
Baker smiled. “You’re
welcome.”
Lt. Baker walked over to the elevator and got on. “It’s a strange new world, huh,
Doc? See ya ‘round.” He closed the door and descended to the
garage.
Doc engaged the safety mechanism of the Colt .45 automatic he had been
holding out of sight under the bar top.
He walked over to a front window and watched the street. As usual, hucks were brazenly peddling
drugs on the block. He saw Lt.
Baker climb into the back of a black limo and then watched the vehicle drive
away. He watched the drug boys for
a long time.
He had worked undercover for nearly two years to disrupt drug
distribution in this city and for what?
He had wasted his time, had made no impact. Drugs still flowed freely and children
were still dying, still killing each other. And the corrupt still reaped the
profits.
How could he have thought that he could help bring about the end of
violence, that he could save the lives of misguided children? He had been a
fool!
Jack Tilden, Lt. Baker, Mayor Monroe, Senator Grumwald, and whoever else
was in cahoots with them in the Special Investigations Network (SIN) had
underestimated him. They had
crossed the wrong man. He almost
felt sorry for them.
Almost.
Doc Holloway was going to see to it that they were paid what was due
them. The wages of sin is
death.
