It's been six days of agonizing waiting, but Jackson's finally found someone he thinks might have the information we need. Since we don't know precisely what deadline we're working with, I'm just praying this guy talks to us in time. Jackson says I'm too personally involved to meet this informant myself, so I get to wait in the car while he and Cooper are inside.
Minutes, hours, days go by before they come back out. Jackson gets behind the wheel and looks back at me:
"He's at Fifth and Baker, we should be able to get there in twenty minutes. Stewart and Morris will be there in about ten. They'll take care of things so we can get in through the roof."
It's late afternoon. The last of the sunlight is painting the city red, and the downtown rush hour traffic is just beginning to start.
"Step on it," I tell Jackson, but he's already driving too fast and I can see flashing lights ahead. A road block is just what we need right now - they do it just to rub in our faces what a free society we live in.
The cops are brusque but we're not carrying weapons yet and the car's clean, so we're not detained. Rush hour is now in full swing, it's dark, and we're going to be lucky if we get there in an hour, let alone twenty minutes. Jackson's a good driver though, and he pulls up behind a dumpster on Baker thirty three minutes after the road block.
Baker is a street in the Old Town and its former tenants have followed the money to the newer development in the suburbs. It's a natural spot for the cops to set up an unofficial detention center. We get out and Cooper goes dumpster diving to retrieve the cache that Stewart and Morris have left for us. He gives me and Jackson a gun and a couple of extra clips each, and we go up the fire escape to the roof. Stewart is waiting for us, and there's blood on his shirt.
"Hurry it up, gents, sentries don't stay missing for very long."
He ushers us across a makeshift bridge to the next building and stands aside to cover us as we open the service door and quietly step inside.
It's dark in here. A fresh bloodstain on the wall near the doorway tells me that Morris is already in here somewhere, cleaning house, watching our backs. This level seems to be mostly storage- all locked doors and open janitor closets. The building is silent and my heart beat is marking time. I'm up against a harsh deadline, and every thud in my ears tells me that time is running short.
Jackson has the door open at the end of the corridor, and Cooper and I make it through to the stairwell without incident. Morris shows up behind us with a lot of blood on his shirt and the four of us go down to the next floor. Morris hasn't cleared this level yet, and my heart beat steps up the pace in anticipation. We're all holding our guns a little tighter as Jackson opens the door.
I'm looking down a corridor that's the same as the floor above, but the lights are on this time. Morris takes the lead, and we follow him into each empty office along the hallway. We're in the third room and the unmistakable sound of two gunshots echoes up the stairwell from the floor below.
All is silent, and the knot in my stomach and the tears in my eyes tell me that we just missed the deadline. We're still trying to be stealthy, but it's damned hard to be quiet when you're fighting a sudden wave of despair. Cooper is first down the stairs and we follow him onto the third floor. The lights are on here, too, but there's no sign of any life. A door halfway down the corridor is open and I watch Cooper's shoulders slump as he looks inside. He turns around and tries to wave me back, but I push past him and the knot in my gut explodes into acid when I see what's left of my brother lying slumped on a cheap office chair.
I'm sorry Garry. I missed your deadline, and you had to pay.
My head is spinning and I don't know where the other guys have gone, but I'm still standing there with Garry and I hear boots coming up the stairwell. They're matching time with my heart beat, pounding down the seconds to my deadline.
I take up a position behind a desk next to the door and raise my gun.