Park Avenue (Book Six in the Fifth Avenue Series) (56 page)

He knew this weapon.
 
He’d used one like it before.
 
He knew what it could do when its power
was unleashed.
 
The only unknown was
where on the fourth floor De Cicco was.
 
Sean’s head of intelligence told him the man had a lease on the entire
floor, which was large, but that’s where the intelligence ended.
 
Did they meet at the front of the
building?
 
Unlikely.
 
Due to the large windows that faced the
street, they’d be too vulnerable there.
 
At the rear of it?
 
Perhaps.
 
In the middle?
 
Most likely.
 
De Cicco would feel shielded that
way.
 

Scott had six grenades at
his disposal, but were they enough?
 
He felt they were—he’d seen the damage they could create—but
he also knew that nothing was absolute.
 
That’s what unnerved him.
 
His aim was to destroy as much of the fourth floor as possible, to
create explosions that not only would take lives, but also create fires.
 
If he was lucky, the explosions would
take out one of the brick supporting walls, and the floor itself would
collapse.
 
He’d done that before,
and if he could do it again, he knew he’d succeed.
 
De Cicco and his threat against Fondaras
would be dead and that would end one of two threats against Leana Redman’s
life.

He’d deal with the other
one later.

He put on his night
goggles and went quietly to the windows that overlooked De Cicco’s
building.
 
He kept low and stealth,
aware that the guards below were on high alert.
 
De Cicco would have demanded that of
them, and he was right to do so.
 
But Scott didn’t realize how alert they were.
 

Two of the men also were
wearing night goggles.
 
If they
looked up, which they would at some point, they would see him just as he saw
them now.
 
He receded from the window.
 
So, what to do?
 
Fire a grenade at the street, take them
out, and then lob five other grenades into the building?
 
Would that be enough?
 
He wasn’t sure.
 
Sending six grenades into the building
might do the job, but then he’d have to escape from the men on the street,
wouldn’t he?
 
He’d have to run down
four flights of stairs, and despite his height and bulk, he’d need to escape
into the night unseen.
 
It would be
a challenge, even if there was a car waiting for him a block away.

What would the men on the
street do when he fired the grenades into the building?
 
Rush in to protect De Cicco, who was
their cash cow?
 
The man who paid
their bills?
 
The man who put food
on their tables, and likely paid for their children’s educations?
 
Or, in their hopes that De Cicco had
somehow survived, would they come toward this building—the source of the
explosives—and search for whoever fired the grenades in an effort to
annihilate them?

He didn’t know.

But he was prepared for
either situation.
 
His time in
Afghanistan taught him plenty.
 
It
taught him that you didn’t go in with just one plan.
 
You went in with two or three
plans.
 
Tonight, Sean had two.
 
Two were enough.

He reached into his
pocket for his cell, pulled it out, and called his team leader, Erich, who was
within a block of De Cicco’s building, along with other men.
 
“This is what you need to do,” he said
when Erich answered the phone.
 

“Go ahead.”

He told him.

“When are you planning to
act?”

“Five minutes.
 
That should give you time to get into
position.”

“Give us ten.”

“Five.
 
I don’t know how long they’ll be inside.”

“Then we need to hustle.”

“Just do what I
said.
 
Make certain the bases are
covered.
 
No one comes out alive.”

“Is that possible?
 
If your grenades miss, they’ll pour out
of the building.
 
We both saw how
many went inside.”

“We do our best—”

“Shit!” Erich said.

“What?”

“Stand down!” the man
hissed into the phone.
 
“Stand
down!”

The line went dead.

Confused, Sean stared at
the phone.
 
He tried to call Erich
back, but the line went to voice mail, suggesting he was on his phone.
 
Who was he talking to?
 
His team?

Sean rushed to the window
overlooking the building’s side entrance.
 
Coming down the street were a line of cars and vans.
 
At least a dozen.
 
Though he couldn’t see their markings,
instinct told him that, for whatever reason, the police were here and were
about to raid Antonio De Cicco’s compound.
 

De Cicco’s men on the
street saw them, and swiftly moved inside the building.
 
He heard the muffled sound of a metal
door clang shut, raised voices, and then absolute silence as the lights went
dark on the building’s fourth floor.
 
Transfixed by what was happening, he watched other cars arrive on the
street facing the front of the building, which now was surrounded.
 
Nobody could get out, but he knew that
eventually people would go in.

Uniformed men and women
rushed out of the cars and vans.
 
They stepped behind the vehicles for shelter, and Sean noted two dogs on
leashes—German Shepherds.
 

Guns were drawn and aimed
at the building’s fourth floor.
 
Stunned, Sean looked down the street and saw the same situation
unfolding there.
 
Seconds later, the
lights on top of each car and van came to life, bathing the streets and the
buildings in rhythms of red and blue.

His cell phone thrummed
to life.
 
It was still clutched in
his hand.
 
And though Sean was
usually cool under pressure, the vibration startled him.
 
He looked down and was surprised by who
was calling.
 
He answered.

“What’s happening?” he
said.

“Nobody fucks with me.”

“But we had this
settled.
 
I was about to take them
out.”

“Then I got to you in
time.
 
Your involvement in this ends
now.
 
I’ve gone to the police.
 
They’re taking over.”

“What are you talking
about?”

“I told you I was
considering another avenue.
 
This
was it.
 
But before I could go
forward with it, I needed to make certain it was the safest way to go.
 
If it wasn’t, you’d be blowing up that
building now.”

“I’ll repeat.
 
What are you talking about?”

“Two hours ago, I sent my
children and their families away on one of my private jets.
 
Because De Cicco and his men have been
watching me, my family had to follow direction, they had to go undercover,
which they did, and now everyone is safe.
 
De Cicco will never touch them, because he won’t know where to find
them.
 
The moment they were
airborne, I went to the police, told them how De Cicco threatened me, and gave
them the proof.”

“What proof?”

“I recorded our telephone
calls,” Anastassios Fondaras said.
 
“Just as I record every call that comes in to me.
 
The police now have enough evidence to
put De Cicco and his Family behind bars for years.
 
I’ve given them tangible proof of how De
Cicco threatened me, what he did to my daughter, what he was planning to do to
Leana Redman, and how he kept the pressure on me to make sure it would
happen.
 
All of it’s on tape.
 
Tonight, they’re going to lock away that
son of a bitch, as well as everyone who works for him.”

Sean tried to control his
anger, but it was difficult.
 
“I’m
in possession of an illegal weapon.
 
Do you understand that?
 
Do
you realize the situation you’ve put me in?
 
They’ll lock
me
away for having
it.”

“They won’t.
 
I’ve taken care of it.
 
Do you really think I’d leave you
vulnerable?
 
If you leave the
building now, a detective will be there to meet you at the rear exit.
 
Trust me and trust him.
 
They’ve been waiting years to nail De
Cicco.
 
This is a boon for
them.
 
They’ll dispose of the
weapon, you won’t exist to them, and you can go on your way.
 
Leave the building now.
 
De Cicco is either going to give himself
up, or he’s going to go down in a hail of bullets.
 
The consensus is that he’ll give himself
up and try to fight this with his army of lawyers.
 
Good luck to him.
 
I’ve got enough on that man to burn his
ass.
 
The police know it.
 
The D.A. knows it.
 
They’ve been trying for decades to bring
him down.
 
Now, they’re certain they
can.”

“Before I go forward, I
need to know one thing,” Sean said.
 
“Will Leana be safe?
 
That’s
important to me.
 
You know she’s come
to mean something to me.
 
I don’t
want her harmed.”

“Leana will be safe.
 
I promise you that.
 
If De Cicco doesn’t fall in line soon,
they’ll smoke his ass out with tear gas, he’ll go into custody, and this will
end.
 
I’ll forever be grateful for
what you’ve done for Leana.”
 
He
paused for a moment, and Sean heard footsteps charging forward on the other end
of the phone.
 
“They’re going
in.
 
Get out of here now.
 
We’ll deal with Gordon Elling
tomorrow.
 
We’ll shut him and Pepper
Redman down.”

“Stay out of that,” Sean
said.
 
“I’ll take care of them
myself.”

He clicked off the phone,
took a final glance out the window, saw the police moving into position, and
knew he had to get out of there.
 
He
hurried down the four flights of stairs to the rear entrance, but when he
opened the door, four armed policemen met him.
 
Their guns were drawn and trained on
him.

“Hand over your weapon,”
one of the men said to him.
 
“Now.”

“What is this?”

“Hand over your weapon.”

“I work for Anastassios
Fondaras.
 
He told me to come
here.
 
He said you’d be waiting
ready for me.
 
I’m Sean Scott.”

“What you are is under
arrest.”
 
A laser beam shot out of
the man’s gun and wavered over Sean’s chest.
 
Three other beams followed suit, and the
swirl of beams created a gathering of red dots just over the place where his
heart pumped furiously.
 
It was so
dark outside that he couldn’t see their faces, but as confused as he was, he
knew they were cops.
 
They talked
like cops.
 
He lowered his weapon to
the ground.
 
Rough hands enveloped
him, his arms were yanked behind his back, his wrists were cuffed, and for
reasons he couldn’t understand, he was pulled away.

Anastassios Fondaras had
betrayed him.

BOOK
THREE

CHAPTER
SEVENTY-NINE

In his penthouse high
above Fifth Avenue in the Redman International Building, George Redman squinted
into the morning sun flooding into the kitchen.
 
He finished his coffee, poured himself a
glass of orange juice, and looked fleetingly at the newspapers his maid had
stacked next to his briefcase on the kitchen counter.
 
But he was in no mood to read them just
yet.
 
He was too distracted.
 
Too many things were on his mind, not
the least of which was his daughter’s safety.

The day after he sent
Leana an email telling her that he had indeed hired one of Sean Scott’s men to
protect her, he had Scott and his team investigated.
 
But the investigator he hired told him
last night that Scott’s company was among the best in the business and that his
reputation was excellent.