The Children's Corner
Chapter 17
"He's getting into a car!" Ryan exclaims as he and Esposito watch the Kazakhstan-coated man. Then, taking a beat before starting the unit, he follows as closely as possible without drawing notice. "Looks like he's headed up Fifth Ave."
Esposito smirks. "Maybe he wants to shop for another coat."
"Not funny, Bro. But at least in this traffic, he can't pull away. And we're just another car." Ryan continues his tail approaching the East 90's. Great museums around here. Jenny loves the Guggenheim."
"This guy isn't looking for art. Heads up! He's turning right."
"There isn't much that way except – what the hell! That's the Russian Consulate. Kazakhstan has its own, down on 42nd Street. What would he be doing with the Russians?"
Esposito blows out a long breath. "Bro, I think this just got a lot bigger than a drug killing. If we're not careful, we could have feds crawling all over our asses."
"It won't be the first time. But we've still got to catch a murderer."
"Damn right we do."
"Ryan and Esposito are both on a stakeout," Kate reports, wandering into Rick's office. "But I explained Julia's problem to Roselyn. She's going to pull Marcus's report and any documents that went with it. Even if Marcus lied through his teeth, Montgomery would have gone over it. If Julia was straight with us, his notes should verify that."
"I believe she was," Rick offers. "Otherwise, why go to the trouble of making up a story like that when she knows you can check it? And anyway, Felicia was rubbing up against Julia's ankles all during dinner, and she's an excellent judge of character."
"Or she was just hoping Julia would slip her a bit of hamburger like Lily does when she thinks we're not looking. Still, we should know about Julia one way or another pretty soon."
"And while we're awaiting that news, what or whom are the boys staking out?"
"The facility where the truck transporting MacIver's load of fashions was repaired."
"Ah, the destination for the drugs."
"A theory we have yet to prove," Kate reminds her husband. "Something that isn't your problem when you dream up your scenarios."
Rick sticks out his lower lip. "But Heat has to prove stuff in my books. So I have to figure out how she does it. And you know it's not always the way you did. My stories do take their own turns. But speaking of stories, Liz is coming down from her garret soon, so we can go over the last few chapters she put together from my Storm outline. That should serve as a suitable distraction for me. What are your plans for the few moments when you're not feeding or changing the twins?"
"The audio engineer is coming tomorrow, right? So I've been working on a list of the sounds that calm Jake down, like Lily singing and the twinkle mobile, vs. the ones that start him screaming. I figure the more information the engineer has, the better."
"You're right," Rick agrees. "I was thinking along the same lines. He'll be coming while Lily's at school, so I recorded her singing so he could hear it or put it through his equipment or whatever he does. I recorded the garbage truck last time it was here, too. So through the Beckett-Castle perfect partnership, we should be well-prepared. And to further grease the wheels of progress, I'll be making a pan of my triple chocolate brownies."
Kate grins. "Sweet!"
Alexis surveys the stage of the Hudson U. Student Theater. To accommodate the upstage action in the play, the crew built a platform with a rake, slanting down toward the audience. The pitch isn't steep enough to threaten the actors' balance. But they'll have to be aware that their every motion and expression will be completely visible to the audience. Gram's always said that if you truly inhabit your character, your face and body will communicate as well as your words. But Alexis never felt into "The Method." She pretends well enough to play a part, but she doesn't lose herself in it. She rarely loses herself in anything – except with Dana. Some part of her mind stays tethered to the real world. But she can handle her role well enough to please the director and the rest of the cast. For a last-minute understudy, that's enough.
Unfortunately, the presentation at the daycare center will be more than she'd bargained for. She'd thought the actors would be standing in front of a bunch of kids, either in chairs or on the floor, and putting on their performance. But she found out that it's going to be more complicated than that. Each actor will be moving through the center, interacting with the children while portraying a character linked to some life experience. She's going to be someone who can't play various games because of coordination problems. Alexis has had challenges growing up, but never anything like that. Playing the part will take a lot of imagination and concentration. And she's not sure she can pull it off.
Much as she dreads the hours of acting exercises the diva is likely to impose on her, Alexis needs her grandmother's help. She's already sent her a text. But she knows the actress is in rehearsal and won't reply until she sloughs off her stage persona. She'd love to drop the whole drama thing. But she needs the credit to move on to her chosen career. So she'll do whatever it takes to get it.
New Yorkers often swelter on subway platforms or when stuck in tunnels. The current subway system is close enough to the surface to serve as a heat sink, capturing the flow from above. But down 20 or 30 feet, the air is 50 to 60 degrees, with the chill of the walls making it seem even cooler. Jack's worked in a lot of way lower temperatures, but something about the place makes it feel colder than it is. He buttons his Pendleton wool shirt up to his neck.
Jack's chosen access point to the deep underground was five miles from the repair facility. For him, that's not much of a hike, but he has no idea whom or what he'll find, and the tunnels offer few opportunities for cover. He's carrying the weapon Azra suggested, as well as other more conventional parts of his arsenal. He's hoping he doesn't have to use any of them. Instead, he can observe, plant through-the-earth transmitters, and be out of there. But nothing is that simple.
He encounters a settlement two miles from his goal. It's small, just a few huts constructed of scrap wood and cardboard, but with enough occupants and activity to appear as a blaze in infra-red. LED lanterns illuminate the area, causing Jack to shove his night goggles up and away from his eyes.
The encampment is clearly visible in the soft glow, as are its residents. Catching sight of Jack's weaponry, they raise their hands and back away, except for one man with a shotgun. "What do you want?" the sentinel demands.
"Go easy," Jack advises. "I have no argument with any of you, and you don't need to have one with me. But I have a grenade in my hand that could take all of you out before you cock that thing. So just let me pass, and we can all go back to our business."
The shotgun wielder backs off a step. "You set off a grenade in here; it could take you out too."
Jack lowers his voice to a near whisper. "How about if neither of us finds out?"
Shotgun-man backs up two more steps, and Jack moves on.