The Getaway (Sam Archer 2) (23 page)

‘
Drive man!
’ she ordered, pulling back the hammer on the weapon with her thumb. One twitch of her trigger finger and Archer would die. ‘I don’t want to kill you but if I have to, I will.’

He looked over at the kerb and the entrance to the stadium. He couldn’t see Regan or Ortiz.

And there was no sign of th
e FBI.

The woman jammed the gun h
igher and harder into his ribs.

‘
Drive!’
she ordered for a third time.

Shit.

He had no choice.

Cursing, he put his foot down and the police car sped off down the street.

They moved fast down 33
rd
, headed east, Archer’s mind racing as he saw the stadium shrinking in the rear-view mirror
. This wasn’t part of the plan.

‘You’re messing with the wrong people, lady,’ he told her, feeling the barrel of the gun digging into his side. ‘Do yourself a favour and let yourself out. Walk away.’

‘Shut up. And drive faster,’ she said, checking behind them.

‘This isn’t what you think it is.’

‘
Shut up!’

Archer sped on. He pulled a left at
Greeley Square
and burned up
Sixth Avenue
. He hit a run of green lights and they moved fast, past Bryant Park. There was some kind of movie screening going on in the Park. He saw a large crowd gathered on the grass, the New York Public Library behind them, a large movie screen set up in front of them.

‘Who the hell are you?’ he asked.

‘Just keep driving,’ the woman said, turning and looking behind them, checking to see if they were being followed. She seemed edgy, but the pistol was strong and firm, digging into his side. The police car barely slowed as they raced on uptown.

‘Where am I going?’

‘What?’

‘Where am I going?’

She paused.

‘
Upper East Side
.’

Archer obliged and turned a sudden right on 45
th
, speeding down to
3
rd
Avenue
. After he got there, he turned left and moved on, headed uptown. They drove on in silence, catching another series of green lights. They were moving fast, but being in a cop car no one they passed reacted. The woman kept looking behind them anxiously, the gun jammed into Archer’s ribs, her manner tense and edgy. Behind the wheel, Archer was thinking fast.

After five minutes of silence and a journey that took them further and further uptown, they passed
90
th
Street
.

91
st
.

‘Turn here,’ the woman said, the gun now held to Archer’s neck. ‘Here!’

Archer complied and turned right down 92
nd
.

It was a residential street, but there were a series of empty spaces on the kerb. He figured she had some kind of safe house here, or there would be a switch car parked on the street. She’d either pull the trigger and leave him in the car, pieces of his neck and brain all over the interior, or she’d keep him as a hostage and take him with her. He felt the pistol in the woman’s grip soften slightly, no longer pressed as hard against his neck.
She thought she was home free.

He made his move.

He suddenly put his foot down all the
way, and the car leapt forward.

Then he slammed down on the b
rake pedal as hard as he could.

The woman wasn’t expecting it and she wasn’t wearing a seat-belt. It threw her forward, her pistol momentarily jarred free from his neck. In a flash, he let go of the wheel and grabbed her arm with his left hand, pushing and holding it to one side. With his right, he pulled his father’s Sig from the holster on his cop uniform, jamming it into her neck, right under her chin. He gripped her right arm tightly with his left hand, the limb fully extended, her pistol now aim
ed uselessly at the windshield.

Archer’s Sig was now pushed under her neck, his hand and stronger grip clamped on her
left arm, holding her in place.

T
he tables had turned.

With her head tilted to one side from the pistol, she looked over at him, scared.

‘My turn,’ he said. ‘Now let’s have a talk.’

‘Who are you?’ he asked.

‘My names Katic. Mina Katic. I’m a Special Agent. I work for the FBI,’ she said fast, trying to shift her position. He tightened his grip on her left arm and kept the Sig nestled in her neck.

‘Bullshit. You’re after the cash. Do FBI agents hold up getaway drivers?’

‘You’re not a getaway driver. You’re an English cop.’

Pause.

‘How did
you know that?’

‘I was at your father’s funeral. You saw me, remember? I was standing across from you. I knew who you were before then. I’d checked up on you. Found you on the UK Met system. I’ve been tailing you ever since.’

‘Are you Farrell’s inside man?’

Her head tilted away, he saw
her frown, then her eyes widen.

‘What? No? Did he tell you he had one?’

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘Listen to me. Please. I need your help.’

‘With what?’

She tried to shift,
but he kept her where she was.

‘With what?’ he repeated.

‘I know there’s a leak in our team. You just confirmed it.’

‘And it’s not you?’

She shook her head slightly, as much as the Sig would allow. ‘I swear. I got the jump on you because I had to get you out of there. You’re being played.’

‘By who?’

Pause.

‘By Gerrard, I think.’

Archer looked at her for a moment, incredu
lous.

‘Are you serious?’

‘Yes.’

‘What complete bullshit. I’ve known Gerry almost my whole life. He’s clean as a choirboy.’

She shook her head.

‘He’s flipped. He’s working with the bank team. He had a deal worked out with Farrell and his crew, but Farrell won’t co-operate with him anymore. Gerrard’s trying to find out where they’re keeping their money and take it for himself. He’s using you to get to the cash.’

‘Bullshit. He’s straight as an
arrow.’

Pause. He tightened his grip on her arm.

‘Anyway, you’re the one holding me up. Maybe you’re the leak in the detail,’ he said.

‘Does anyone know you are working with him?’

Archer went to respond.

But he didn’t.

‘Has he ever taken you to
Federal
Plaza
?’ she asked.

Archer didn’t reply.

‘Does anyone else in the detail apart from me know who you are?’

Pause.

‘Yes. He briefed your team. He told you all what the deal was.’

She shook her head. ‘No he didn’t. We weren’t even on duty tonight.’

Pause.

But despite the heat, Archer’s blood started going cold.

‘Show me you
r I.D,’ he said. ‘Now.’

He eased back slightly as she reached down to her hip with her left hand and pulled it slowly, flipping it open for him to see. He glanced at it. It looked legit.

‘I’m trying to help you, I promise,’ she said, her head pushed back from the Sig in her neck. ‘Can you put the gun down? It’s hard to talk like this.’

He thought
for a moment, weighing her up.

‘Drop yours first.’

She complied straight away. The other Sig clattered onto the dashboard and slid down, dropping into the front passenger foot-space.

And he let her go.

She panted in the seat,
rubbing her neck, leaning back.

‘You don’t need that,’ she said, looking at the gun in his hand, which was still aimed at her stomach. ‘Right now I’m one of only two people in the entire
United States
who know that you’re on our side. If you kill me, you really are screwed.’

Suddenly, headlights lit them up from behi
nd. Both of them jerked around.

But it wasn’t a threat. Just someone trying to get past. Archer pulled into a parking slot to his left and let the car pass. Katic stayed where she was, making no attempt to reach for her pistol, rubbing her neck and arm instead. On the kerb in an empty slot, Archer switched off the engine and took a deep breath. He glanced over at the woman. She looked far too troubled for this to be a play.
She wasn’t messing him around.

‘Right,’ he said, the pistol still in his hand. ‘Please tell
me what the hell is going on.’

‘We’re a six man team. Used to be twelve, but eighteen months ago, finally, our clearance rate improved,’ Katic said. ‘We were six -and-six, six FBI, six NYPD. The cops pulled their guys from the squad, sending them elsewhere. Claimed the clearance was so high that their work was done, that we could handle it and their resources would be better used elsewhere.’

‘Yeah, I know all this. Gerrard explained this to me. You felt like they ditched you.’

‘Exactly. Since they left, the number of heists have risen. But that means we’re the ones taking all the flak for it. The cops have their own bank robbery detectives, but they handle note-jobs and liquor-store stick-ups, petty stuff like that. The big heists get sent our way, with just six of us asked to handle every single one in the five boroughs.’

They were momentarily lit up as another car passed them down the street, but neither reacted. Archer listened closely as Katic explained.

‘I was with the old team. One of the originals. Once we’d got that heist level down to just 26 in a calendar year, our old boss figured his work was done too. No better note to retire on. He packed his bags and headed back to
Virginia
for his retirement. Two of the others were promoted and transferred back to D.C. So there were three of us from the old team. Myself, O’Hara and Lock. And last summer, three new agents were brought in. Siletti, Parker-‘

‘And Gerry.’

She nodded. ‘Yes. And we couldn’t have asked for three more different guys.’

‘How so?’

‘First of all, Gerrard was bitter as hell when he arrived. We all noticed it straight away. There were a lot of rumours circulating, but word on the grapevine was he got demoted from his old position at
Quantico
.’

‘What did he do?

‘I don’t know for sure. But whatever he did, it pissed off everyone above him something severe. They demoted him, screwed up his pension, his
$401k
. Everyone Gerrard came up with had climbed the ladder, or stayed where they were, but he got pushed straight back down. Not just down a level, but down several. Almost twenty years of service, gone just like that. They knew the role here was a poisoned chalice. It was a ticking bomb waiting to go off. After Williams retired, no one in D.C wanted it. So they gave it to Gerrard and sent him up here as punishment.’

Archer didn’t respond. But he listened closely.

‘Siletti came with him. They transferred him from Finance. He’s a moaner, but he’s reliable.’

‘And Parker?’

‘The golden boy, fresh from the farm at
Quantico
. His family are crazy wealthy, but he decided he wanted to become a
Federal
agent. He’s young, younger than me. Everyone likes Parker. He could have taken the easy route, and lived on a yacht or in the
Hamptons
off his family’s money, but he started from the bottom. Wanted to carve out his own path. He went through the training at
Quantico
, aced it, and they transferred him here a month later.’

She paused.

‘I’ll say it again. Before they all joined, our clearance rate had been rising. It was rock solid, you know? Over fifty per cent, the highest it’s ever been. We were on a roll. But since Gerrard’s been at the helm, it’s plummeted. I kept thinking that it had to stop, that the decline would end. We’ve got some good people on the team. But it just kept dropping and dropping. Farrell and his crew have been running riot. Someone on the inside has to be helping them.’

‘And you think Gerrard is the rat?’ he asked.

‘It makes sense, doesn’t it?’

Archer shook his head. He wasn’t convinced.

‘That’s one possible, if highly unlikely scenario. You don’t understand, Katic. I’ve known that man for over twenty years. He’s been a cop or a
Federal
agent his entire life. He’s a good guy. He wouldn’t cheat the game and betray his own people like that.’

Katic nodded. ‘You’d put your life on that?’