He dove into the small attached bathroom as multiple bursts of gunfire tore through the wall and ripped his bedroom to shreds.
Then he heard feet stumbling from the front room, a door being banged open, and now running feet rushing away.
He got up, went back into his bedroom, and cautiously peered out.
There was no one in the room. He ran over to the window and saw men running toward the vehicle with its engine on and lights off. They were half-carrying another man, who might have been the one Puller had shot. They climbed into the SUV and the driver hit the gas.
Puller slid his window open, took aim, and fired his other M11 at the fleeing vehicle until his hammer clicked dry. At this range, he couldn’t have expected to stop it with a pistol shot.
In another few seconds the SUV had turned the corner and was gone.
As the sounds of the sirens drew closer, Puller went in search of and found AWOL. He was on the top shelf of the closet, behind a plastic bin where Puller had kept some of his winter clothing. There was a bullet hole right through the bin.
An unhurt AWOL meowed and jumped down onto Puller’s shoulder. Puller left the closet and sat on his destroyed bed while he tickled AWOL’s chin. The cat didn’t budge. He apparently didn’t want to be alone.
Puller couldn’t blame the feline.
He surveyed what was left of his apartment. The two guys he had laid out were gone. Their buddies must have revived them and they had fled in the SUV.
He glanced down at his twin empty M11s and let out a long, relieved breath.
I thought I left the Middle East behind.
Chapter 31
PINE COULD SMELL THE STINK of her own sweat as she sat, alone, in the holding cell handcuffed to a metal bench which, in turn, was bolted to the floor.
Never thought I’d see the world from this side of the bars.
She was still shoeless, still covered in blood, and she was freezing.
She looked up to see a man standing there. He was in his fifties, paunchy, balding, and holding a manila file folder. His expression alternated between grim and bored.
“You the one who keeps saying you’re an FBI agent?”
“I do because I am. And I’d like to make a phone call.”
“Absolutely. We just got a few people ahead of you in the line. Busy night tonight. Must be a full moon.”
“Who are you, anyway?”
He tapped the badge riding on his belt. “Detective Milton Barnes. Your case got dropped in my lap, lucky me. Who’s the dead girl they found you next to?”
“I told the cops that already. And also about the guy in there who tried his best to kill me.”
“We didn’t find any guy, but tell me about the woman.”
“Her name, at least I was told, was Sheila Weathers. I was also told she worked at the commissary at Fort Dix.”
“You were told?”
“Can I get these cuffs off, clean up, and get a blanket? And what, did you not pay your heating bill? It’s like forty degrees in here.”
“Sure. I can pay for your lawyer, too. And you’ll get a free car and a trip to Antigua if you’re acquitted of murder. What, you think this is Wheel of Fortune or something?”
“I’m Special Agent Atlee Pine of the FBI. Take a picture of me and email it to the Bureau. They’ll confirm I am who I say I am.”
“Where are your badge and creds? That would move things along a lot faster than a picture.”
“I was undercover. Highly inconvenient if they’d found them on me. I didn’t even bring my phone.”
“Uh-huh. Turned out to be dangerous anyway. For the dead lady. Your prints are all over the murder weapon, by the way.”
“Then somebody squeezed my hand around it while I was out. Maybe the guy who was going to cut my throat. They were obviously going to frame me for her murder.”
“Cops got a call about a fight in that building. Screams and stuff getting knocked around.”
“Right, that was me and the guy. I broke the jerk’s arm in about six places. I gave a description of him to NYPD. Try going around to the emergency rooms. The asshole’s probably in one crying like a baby.”
The man continued. “They go there and out you pop all covered in blood and your prints on the knife. What do you think I’m thinking? That you’re undercover FBI like you say, or you’re a killer. This ain’t TV, lady. This ain’t a plot twist, okay?”
“Just take the picture and send it to the Bureau.” She had a sudden thought. “To Special Agent Eddie Laredo, of the New York Field Office.”
“Okay, while we’re waiting, you can come with me.”
He had a uniformed cop unlock the door and her cuff and led Pine to an interrogation room. The cop then pushed her down into a chair set at a table, locked her leg into a bolt in the floor, and left. Barnes sat down across from her and put the file down on the table.
“We haven’t identified the vic yet.”
“I told you who she was.”
“Who you were told she was. What were you doing in that building?”
“I was knocked out and taken there. I woke up next to the body.”
“Where were you taken from?”
She gave him the address of the building on Fifty-Seventh Street.
“Ritzy neighborhood,” he said.
“You might want to pay attention to it. You might find a lot of international crooks live pretty well there.”
“Tell me something I don’t know. And they got twenty lawyers for every one we got, so who’s gonna win that battle? So keep talking. What happened next?”
“I confirmed that she was dead and then kicked the crap out of the guy who’d been sent there to finish me off. And then I broke out of the room. That’s when the cops showed up and almost shot me.”
“You’re covered in her blood, you know. They checked you for wounds and found none.”
“My arm has twin bruises about the size of Rhode Island. What do you call that?”
“So you beat this guy up and he just ran off? Doesn’t seem likely.”
“Why, because I’m a girl? Give me a two-by-four and I’ll show you how hard I can hit.”
“I’ll take your word for it. You know, we could have put all of you in a giant evidence bag. We’re going to need to take those clothes and run swabs all over you.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t done that yet.”
“We need the suits to paper it first. Don’t want you running around screaming about your Fourth Amendment rights being violated, do we, Ms. FBI Agent?”
She calmed and studied him, sensing an opportunity. “You have two exceptions to the Fourth Amendment protection against unreasonable search and seizure, at least with respect to my situation.”
Barnes watched her closely, suddenly looking intrigued. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”
“Plain view, which the blood on me obviously is.”
“And the other?”
“Search incident to a lawful arrest with a condition being the preservation of evidence. Again, a condition my situation meets perfectly. I won’t charge you for either one of those. It’s on the house. Fed to local cop. Want to return the favor?”
Barnes sat up straighter and his confrontational look slowly dissipated. “So, what case you working, Agent Pine?”