415 Lafayette St. NOHO Auto Repair. Trish wasn't sure how much actual repair work was performed on the premises, but she was pretty sure none of it was being done at 11:25 PM on a Sunday night, so the activity in the closed building that she was watching from the roof of the eight story building across the street convinced her that their information had been accurate, and she had come to the right place.

The light rain that had been falling on and off for the past several hours had not bothered Trish in the slightest. It didn't seem to bother the two couples that had chosen rooftops for their sexual encounters either.

"Sorry! Just passing through!" Trish would simply call over her shoulder as she continued on her way. It was a regular occurrence in the summer months, and Trish had learned to keep her eyes on her route, hear no evil, see no evil, even when some of those couples displayed a level of creativity that Trish found hard to ignore.

Christ, I'm pretty flexible, and I still don't think I could get my foot that far behind my head.

But the two couples, spaced about three quarters of a mile apart, had been more traditional in their missionary styles, and Trish had barely given them a second glance as she went by. It was the single story building, and the parking lot that stood between it and Lafayette street, that Trish was observing now. The doors were closed, but the lights were on, the shadows of movement clear even to less acute eyesight than Trish possessed.

But there were other things that Trish could also see clearly. The car that was parked down the street with two men sitting inside who were also watching the repair shop. It had already been there when Trish arrived, and it hadn't moved in the ten minutes since then. The car that arrived just a couple minutes ago, the one with two women inside, was at the other end of the street, on the same side as the shop, on the opposite side as the first car. The two cars were facing each other, and Trish had taken one look at the P71 center wheel caps on each of the Crown Victorias and knew what was up.

Cop wheels.

Trish didn't like to mingle with local law enforcement. Not that she had anything against them, just that every time she went out on the prowl, like she was doing now, she was technically breaking the law. Personally, she didn't give a shit about that; she considered laws more as guidelines than hard and fast rules, but she hated having to beat up cops when they felt the need to arrest her and she felt the need to not be arrested. She did it when she needed to, but she avoided it when she could. It gave her a bad reputation, and she was sort of hard to miss when she wore the suit that she was wearing now.

She was still watching the street, deciding whether to call it a night, when she heard the sound of someone climbing the fire escape of the five story building next to her.

Jesus, what the fuck is this, Grand Central Station?

Trish had the advantage from her position. It wasn't ingrained in human nature to look up, not even for predators like Trish. She had surprised more than one night stalker, and more bad guys than she could count, because they didn't looked up.

So it was that Trish watched quietly from her elevated position as the woman dressed all in black stepped onto the roof of the building next to Trish.

Is there anybody in this city that's not watching this place? Trish wondered as she watched the woman scan the building across the street.

It was at that moment that Trish noticed an important detail.

I know that fucking hair.


"Jesus," Connie said as she read the report that Rita had given her to read on the ride over, "where did they get all of this?"

"They hired an investigator to look into the letters. She was the one who made the connection. She hacked Mariner Lab's database. She found the entries from the Sokolova woman. And she knows Misty and Colleen. She gave Misty the file, Misty gave them to me, and told me where I could find her."

"Who's the investigator?"

"No names. It's all unofficial right now. I told them I would keep their names out of it as long as they didn't have anything to do with the murders. Which they didn't."

"So the chief of D's has this already?"

"He'll get it in the morning when he gets to the office. I have that much of a head start."

The two women were parked on Lafayette Street, a short distance from NOHO Auto Repair. Further down the street, on the other side, Rita could see the car with Michael Woodruff and James Kilik inside of it, their faces obscured by the rain speckled windshields of the two unmarked vehicles.

"So, now that you have a name what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. The US doesn't have an extradition treaty with Russia, and even if it did the Russians don't extradite Russian citizens. The only way we are getting our hands on her is if she leaves the country and travels to someplace that will detain her on a US warrant, and then extradite her."

"Assuming that they let her leave in the first place," Connie said, "not a lot of people are getting out of Russia right now. Is she on the sanctions list?"

"I don't know. And I don't want to tip her off by making an official request.

"Like you said, you have until tomorrow."

It was an awkward time of day for a raid. The vampire shift was supposed to take over at midnight, and the weekend night shifts were always short staffed. In the end Rita had arranged for detectives from the 4 - 12 shift to work overtime, and for detectives from the 12 - 8 shift to come in early. That was eight detectives total, including Rita and Connie, plus six uniforms, and the six men from ESU that were on call for just such weekend jaunts. If twenty cops couldn't take down this small operation, Rita would put in her papers. She wasn't even convinced that all of them would fit into the building they were looking at.

Maybe it's bigger on the inside, Rita thought.

"Maybe it's bigger on the inside," Connie said.

"Jesus, would you stop doing that?"

"What?"

"Reading my mind. It's fucking weird. What if I'd been thinking about Aric?"

"What do you mean? Does every thought you have about Aric involve sex?"

Rita was about to answer when a white box truck covered in graffiti turned onto Lafayette Street and drove towards Rita and Connie. The two women watched as the truck slowed before crossing the center line and parking in a vacant spot, it's nose facing the wrong way.

"Here we go," Rita said as she put her hand radio to her mouth.

"All units, stand by."

A total of six cars and one large van began to move slowly from their positions on the nearby streets and roads, all heading to the same auto repair shop, all just waiting for the final order that would be answered by revving engines and squealing tires.

"Showtime," Rita said to her partner.


Beth's journey ended at East 4th Street as she parked her motorcycle outside the Swift Hibernian Lounge before she threw her bag over her shoulder and walked across the street.

"You should be far enough away. They're not going to write down every license plate in a one mile radius."

"It's only a problem if I can't get back to it, which I don't think will happen. But I don't want Kyle billing me for a lost motorcycle."

"You really think he would do that? With the money he has?" Julia asked.

"Who knows," Beth answered as she walked through the small park to the brick wall that stood just a bit taller than Beth. She was over the wall quickly, in the alley that ran behind the buildings on 4th street that she had just ridden past.

"Time so show some skin," Julia said salaciously just before Beth unzipped her bag and began to shed her clothes, her skin becoming damp from the misty rain.

"You want to play some porno music?" Beth asked as she stood naked in the alley before reaching into her bag for her inner liner.

"Two minutes fifty seconds," Julia said once Beth's transformation was completed.

Beth did a quick scan of the alley, verifying that there were no windows looking down on her.

"That alley on the right takes you to a five story building right across the street from the auto repair shop."

"Are we still calling it an auto repair shop?" Beth asked.

"NOHO Auto Repair. It says so right on the sign."

"Because they're not stupid enough to print Front for a Criminal Enterprise moving black market fentanyl on their sign."

"Caitlin says truth in advertising is overrated," Julia said.

The three women had not been able to talk freely on the ride from the bar back to 51st street, and they didn't have much time once they had arrived before Beth had to leave again. But what time they did have was spent digesting what they all heard at dinner.

"This is exactly why you should not date crazy people," Julia said, "especially crazy rich people. She killed five people, and for what? To prove her love? Fucking nutjob."

"Crazy people do crazy shit," Beth said, "and whoever is behind these WMDs is crazy with a capital C. What is the point of those things? What are they trying to accomplish?"

Caitlin summed up what they had learned. "One on the east coast, one on the west. Assume that the west coast one is near a power plant like the east coast one. Three levels of threat. A massive explosion that kills a lot of people and damages power generating infrastructure and draws in emergency responders. Then a neurotoxin that incapacitates and kills everyone in the affected area, and draws in even more people. Then a silent but deadly virus that those people take back with them and spread across the world."

"Like I said, crazy with a capital C." Beth said as she rechecked the contents of her bag.

"You still think that Kyle knew about it, and wanted it for himself?" Caitlin asked Beth.

"I don't know what I think about him. Bruce knows him, and it was Kyle that Bruce called to get me out of there. That makes me feel better. But who knows?"

It was still in the back of Beth's mind as she climbed the fire escape to the roof of the building across the street from the Front for a Criminal Enterprise moving black market fentanyl. A few days ago Beth would have thought that taking down these assholes was a good night's work, and she still felt that way, but it paled in comparison to stopping two WMDs from being used.

"They're in there. Probably getting everything ready to load out," Julia said as Beth's lenses sent her the image of the building across the street.

"Trucks aren't there yet," Beth answered before the cell phone in her pocket vibrated.

Can you do something for me? said the text from Jessica.

Kinda busy, Beth replied.

Just look up.

What the fuck? Beth thought just before looking up.

"Okay, so…we have a problem," Julia said as she looked at the image of the red haired woman in the black mask and yellow suit as she looked down at Beth.

"I should have just stayed on the fucking couch," Beth said.