Silent Night (Sam Archer 4) (35 page)

He and Finn had waited outside
Kearny Medical
until the guard arrived, then killed him and let themselves in. Finn had taken a spare uniform from the man’s locker out back whilst Bobby went upstairs. They then murdered each member of the team as they arrived for work, one by one. Wicks and Drexler had done well. Before noon, they brought a doctor from
Flood Microbiology
to mix the virus and had also got hold of a vial.

Bleeker was an idiot. He and his three friends had got themselves killed and also attracted the attention of the entire NYPD. Reese’s death and Finn’s sudden departure were also setbacks. Bobby didn’t have any siblings but he knew if some pig killed his brother that he’d want revenge too. He wouldn’t want to be the cop who’d killed Reese for all the guns in
Texas
right now. But not everything was bad. Rourke had received an interesting phone call earlier from Bleeker’s contact. The information that had been passed was interesting and invaluable. The contact had warned Rourke of a situation at the campsite where the Chapter were holed up.

Bobby had taken the appropriate measures to counter it.

So behind the wheel of a white van, moving fast through rural
New Jersey
, Rourke glanced at Drexler. She was sitting beside him, watching the road. They were the only two in the vehicle.

‘How we doing?’

She checked her rear view mirror.

‘We’re good. Nothing but night.’

He grinned, and put his foot down.

He liked happy endings.

Fire crews had arrived and were battling to put out the blaze at
Kearny Medical
. The explosion had been monumental, everyone outside shielding themselves from the fireball and wave of heat as the explosives and gasoline in the lab detonated. The flames licking up the side of the building were giving the area an orange glow and the air stank of smoke. Down in the parking lot, Archer spotted Marquez sitting on the back of a car. He walked over and sat beside her. She was staring up at the blaze, the fire lighting up her face, her eyes red-rimmed from tears. Knowing no words would help, Archer took her hand gently. They sat in silence, watching the fire crew attack the blaze. Shepherd approached his two remaining detectives but didn't say anything.

He leant against the car beside Archer, looking up at the burning building, his mood sombre. Then his cell rang. He took it out and answered.

‘Shepherd.’

He listened.

‘OK. We’ll be there soon.’ He ended the call, turning to his two remaining detectives. ‘A van just pulled into the neo-Nazi campsite. Hendricks thinks there may be something inside.’

‘Who’s behind the wheel?’ Archer asked.

‘Wicks.’

Without saying a word, Marquez suddenly jumped off the back of the car. The two men watched her walk over to her Ford Explorer and climb inside.

She fired the engine and roared out of the parking lot, speeding off into the night.

‘Are we going?’ Archer asked Shepherd.

He went to reply, but his phone rang again. He pulled it out, looking at the number and Archer saw surprise on his face. He took the call, turning and walking out of earshot. Watching him move away, Archer noticed Kruger and Maddy Flood standing together to his left, looking up at the fire and talking quietly.

He stood up and approached them. ‘Are you both OK?’

‘Yes,’ Maddy said, her attitude far friendlier now. Archer glanced to his right to see if Shepherd was ready to go.

But Archer noticed that he’d gone very still, the phone held to his ear.

Suddenly, he took off, racing towards his Ford.

‘Sir!’ Archer called. ‘What’s going on?’

Not responding and jumping into his car, Shepherd fired the ignition and pulled a U-turn, the tyres squealing as the vehicle swung hard to the right. Archer ran after the Ford, but Shepherd sped off, barely slowing to turn out of the lot and roaring off out of sight.

Watching him go, Archer shook his head, totally confused. Shepherd had left him and the two doctors behind.

What the hell is going on?

Just like every night for the last six weeks, Beth Shepherd couldn’t sleep. She’d tried sleeping pills, but they hadn’t worked. She’d tried drinking but that was a path she didn’t want to go down any further. Any way she could, she was desperate to fall asleep.

Because it was a release.

In her dreams, she was with her son again.

And for those blissful couple of seconds just after she woke up in the morning, those two words that haunted her weren’t running through her mind like the news feed on CNN. But then they came, as they always did.

Ricky’s dead.

She was lying on the couch, a blanket over her tired body, the television remote in her hand. There was a DVD in the player, her son’s high school graduation from this past summer. Beth’s brother had been on hand to film the whole thing, and there was a moment where she, Matt and the two boys posed together for a photograph. She kept rewinding and watching those few seconds, the four of them in a line with their arms around each other, Matt telling everyone to say
cheese
.
She’d watched it so many times that she’d almost worn away the white arrow on the
Rewind
button.
Her other son Mark was upstairs, asleep. Since it had happened, she’d barely let him out of her sight. She knew it couldn’t continue, the way things were, but to move on was to accept that Ricky was dead and never coming back.

She pushed the
Rewind
button again. She’d done it so many times that now she didn’t even have to think; muscle memory held it for just the right amount of time. Then she hit
Play
and watched those few moments of bliss again. She noticed different things each time. Mark’s shirt was half pulled out. Matt’s tie was loose. Ricky’s grin was impish and infectious. They all looked so happy.

None of them aware that Ricky would be dead six months later.

She examined her son’s face, smiling under the mortar-board on his head, a scroll in his hand. She hit
Pause
and stared at him, tears welling in her eyes. In the dark room, the glare of the television was like a beacon. She examined his face, his smile, his hair, his clothes. Eventually, she tore her gaze from his face and glanced at the digital clock beside the television.

1:15 am
.

She realised she felt tired.

I’ll watch it one more time. Then sleep.

She pushed
Rewind
again for just the right amount of time and the shot wound back. But as she went to press
Play
, she suddenly sensed movement to her right.

‘Mark?’

She lifted her head and looked over at the doorway.

She jolted back. It wasn’t Mark.

There was a tall man standing there.

Staring at her.

And he had a pistol in his hand aimed at her head.

Shepherd’s sudden and unexplained departure meant Archer was left alone with the two doctors. As the echoes of the engine of Shepherd’s Ford disappeared into the night, Archer turned and walked back towards the medical pair, shaking his head.

‘What was that about?’ Kruger asked.

‘I’ve got no idea.’

He glanced at the time on his watch.
1:16 am
. It had been one hell of a day and it sure as hell wasn’t over yet.

‘So many of us dead,’ Maddy said, looking up at the burning building. ‘All those people up there. Dad, Will and now Frankie.’

She shook her head.

‘What the hell was he doing here?’

‘They must have kidnapped him,’ Archer said.

‘But why?’

‘I don’t know. Did you get a look at the equipment upstairs?’

They both nodded.

‘Much of it was the same as ours,’ Kruger said. ‘Frankie was also a virologist. He worked with me.’

He paused.

‘What?’ Archer asked, seeing the look on his face.

‘There was something else up there too,’ Kruger said. ‘I saw it inside the lab just before the big detective was locked inside.’

‘What was it?’

‘There was a canister at the back of the room near the explosives. I’ve seen them before in
South Africa
. I recognised the design and the sticker on the side.’

‘So?’

‘They hold pesticides.’

‘Pesticides?’

‘Yes.’

‘Where would you get that from?’

‘I guess you’d order it.’

‘Or steal it,’ Maddy said.

Archer thought back to what Shepherd said. Wicks was behind the wheel of the van at the campsite. Not Rourke. Not Sway. Not Drexler.

So where the hell were they?

Archer pulled his cell, dialling Rach.

‘
Hello?’

‘Rach, it’s Archer.’

‘I heard about Jorgensen. I’m sorry
.’

‘Yeah. Me too.’ Pause. ‘But listen. I’m still here in
New Jersey
. We found the last doctor from Dr Flood’s lab here. The virus had killed him. I think Rourke and Sway kidnapped him and him working on something.’

‘What?’

‘I don’t know. But Dr Kruger saw an empty can of pesticide. I need you to check something out.’

Five miles away, the CTB Ford Explorer roared down the street, Shepherd with his foot all the way down. He was holding the wheel with one hand and gripping his cell phone with the other.

‘Talk to me, buddy,’ he said, turning a hard right.

‘I heard someone outside,’
his son Mark whispered.
‘He’s in the house, Dad.’

‘Did you see him?’

‘He was tall, lanky. Weird haircut.’

Shepherd paled.

Finn Sway.

‘I heard Mum fighting with him. I think he must have knocked her out. It’s all gone quiet. Wait.’

Shepherd listened in helpless agony, pushing his foot down all the way, the car hurtling towards his neighbourhood.

‘I think he’s coming upstairs,’
Mark whispered, even quieter.

Shepherd listened.

Then the call went dead.

‘I just checked tonight’s reports,
’ Rach told Archer.
‘Not much happening in the area. Most of the action is where you are.’

‘There must be something.’

‘Hang on.’
Pause. ‘
Most of its minor charges; alcohol, fighting in the street.
Someone got shot in
Newark
. No surprise there. That’s about it. The biggest is the shooting and a missing persons report.’

‘A missing person?’

‘Man called Doug Craig. Seventy two
years old. Wife said he was out working on their farm, but disappeared some time earlier in the day. She’s looked everywhere but can’t find him.
Jersey
State PD are looking into it.’

‘Where was this?’

‘A farm twelve miles from you.’

‘A farm?’ Archer repeated.

‘Yes.’

Pesticide.

‘It might not be anything.’

‘But it could be something. Send me the address.’

He ended the call, then realised they had no car. He looked around for a vehicle. He couldn’t borrow the fire truck.

Then he saw all the employee cars parked in the lot. One of them was a Mercedes that caught his eye. He moved towards it, trying the handle. It was locked. He pulled his Sig, reversing the weapon and smashed the window. It took three goes, but it went and the alarm started blaring. Some of the fire-crew turned, but Archer raised his badge and they turned back to the fire. The alarm wailing, he released the lock and pulled open the door then used a trick employed by so many people he’d arrested in the past. He hot-wired the vehicle. The alarm died and the engine fired. He finished twisting the two wires under the panel into place as Kruger and Maddy watched.

He waved them over and they ran towards him, both climbing into the Mercedes to join him.

A hundred yards from the neo-Nazi campsite, Marquez had pulled up to a halt beside Hendricks teams’ vehicles, parking behind a series of thick trees. She’d grabbed a Mossberg and a box of shells from the trunk, shutting the lid quietly and had moved up through the trees to join Hendricks and his team who were crouched down behind a boulder, peering around at the campsite below.

Hendricks turned and saw her arrive. He didn’t know her name but recognised her as one of Shep’s people, which meant she was good.

‘Evening,’ he whispered.