In Death 13 - Seduction in Death

herself in his head. "Gotta ditch the disguise first. He'll know we'll come around to him with Morano's death. He can't afford to leave any trace of that around. But he thinks we're slow and stupid. He's so much smarter. He'll hurry, but he won't rush. He'll go home, take off the face and hair. Clean up. Spend some time gloating, packing some things up, destroying anything he thinks might be incriminating."
    "You put men on the house," Whitney reminded her. "They'll spot him."
    "Maybe, maybe not. Because he'll expect them to be there. Will you drive, sir?" she asked as they stepped outside. "I need the civilian to draw me a picture."
    He drove fast, and without sirens. Whitney's eyebrows lifted, but he said nothing when at Eve's request Roarke quickly called up blueprints of the townhouse on his PPC.
    "You got holo-features on there?"
    "Naturally. Display data holographically." The image spilled out into Eve's lap.
    She studied it. And planned. "We'll move the surveillance team to the rear. One man in, one man out. Additional men entering here, and here. We go in the front. Roarke, you'll go left, and up the stairs. The commander right to sweep the main level. I'll take the steps down. He's got full security, with video, so if he's paying attention, and he pays attention, he'll know we're coming. Watch each other's backs because at the core, he's a coward."
    While she committed the holo to memory, she called for additional backup.
    When they pulled up behind the surveillance vehicle, she hopped out, demanded status. She detailed the situation, gave her orders quickly.
    "Seal hasn't been breached," Whitney commented as they approached the front.
    "He wouldn't use the main door. There are three other entrances, twelve first-story windows." She detoured at a jog to the side of the house farthest away from the surveillance. "Broken glass," she reported. "He's in there."
    Both she and Whitney pulled out masters. "I beg your pardon, sir."
    "No. Forgot myself. Go." He replaced the master with his weapon.
    She uncoded the seal. "On three."
    "She likes to go in low," Roarke told Whitney, and on Eve's count went in the door with her, high.
    They speared off, three arrows. Eve called out the required warning as she took the stairs to the lower level with her back to the wall.
    The droid met her at the bottom.
    "I am programmed to deflect, restrain, or impede any and all unauthorized intruders on these premises. If you attempt to come any farther, I will be forced to cause you physical harm."
    "Back off. We're the police, fully authorized and warranted to enter these premises and remand Lucias Dunwood into custody."
    "I am programmed to deflect, restrain, or impede," he began, moving toward her.
    "Fuck this," she muttered, and blasted him.
    While he sparked and shuddered, she kicked him aside. "Lights on," she ordered, and didn't bother to swear when her order was ignored. She moved in the dark, leading with her weapon each time she approached a doorway.
    At the soft sound of footsteps behind her, she whirled, finger twitching. "Goddamn it, Roarke."
    "You have two men covering the first level. Additional backup on the way. This'll go faster with two of us down here. And," he continued, moving up to guard her back, "down here is where he is."
    Her instincts told her the same. Which was why she'd taken the area personally.
    "Lab's going to be straight back," she said quietly, though she'd already picked up the security cameras tucked into the corners of the ceiling. "He's boxed in, but he's ready for us."
    The door was locked.
    "I'm going to bypass," she whispered in Roarke's ear. "He'll expect us to rush. That's what he's ready for. Don't go through the door until I give the signal."
    She slipped the locks, kicked the door, then spun away.
    The move saved her. Something crashed in the dark near the toes of her boots. She saw the smoke, heard the hiss, and was forced to sidestep before the acid eating into the floor hit leather.
    There was a flash from inside. She felt a bright, shocking pain in her left shoulder. "Shit!"
    "You're hit." Roarke dived across the open doorway, blocked her body with his as another series of blasts shot through like lightning bolts.
    "Just glanced me." Her arm was numb now, shoulder to fingertip. "Get my communicator out of my pocket. My left hand's dead."
    He pulled it out. "Lowest level, east end," he said into it. "Dunwood's armed. The lieutenant's been hit."
    "Minimal damage," she snapped,