High Risk by G.K. Parks (thriller book recommendations txt) 📗

“No fucking way. I just told you what I heard. It’s not my fault if something went wrong.”

But the third man yanked Carter’s phone out of his pocket, checked his call log and messages, threw the device to the ground, and stomped on it. “You better be telling me the truth.”

“Why would I lie?”

The third man grabbed him and slammed him against the dumpster, causing a booming rattle. “Are you trying to double cross me? Do you want all the money for yourself? Or did you grow a conscience and lose your balls?”

“Uh, guys,” Diego whispered urgently, “we need to go.”

The third man kept Carter pinned to the dumpster. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you right here and now.”

Diego grabbed his arm. “I’m serious. I thought I saw someone over there.” He pointed to one of the windows in the building across the street. A few slats in the blinds remained askew. “Someone’s watching us. We can’t stay here.”

The third man shoved Carter one final time and stepped back. “I’m not walking away without my payday. You better find a way to make this up to me.”

*       *       *

“Out of the way.” I raced down the steps. Fennel and I had arrived at the crime scene, immediately identified the naked man as Lindsey Rook, and headed for the nearest train station. The vast subway system would make our killer’s escape inevitable if we didn’t stop him in time.

Fennel headed for the information center while I went straight for the station agent. Nowadays, most of the subway system was automated, but a few people still got their metro cards from the station agent. But before I could maneuver around the throng of people, a blood-curdling scream echoed through the interior, causing the constant droning to suddenly quiet. And then the droning came back with a renewed roar, and additional surprised screams joined the first.

“Police.” I pushed my way toward the commotion. The report of gunfire boomed in the cavernous tunnels. “Everyone get down.”

I couldn’t see through the mass of people, but just like animals in the wild running from fire, people raced toward me, away from the deadly sound.

“He has a gun,” someone said, not slowing.

“He shot the ticket lady.” At least, I thought that’s what someone else said as they darted past me.

Grabbing my weapon, I held it at an odd angle at hip-height. I didn’t want to aim and panic the frenzied mob. They were already primed to stampede. Instead, I held up my badge and pushed my way toward the booth, telling people to get back as I went.

“Oh god.” A woman crouched at the open door to the station agent’s booth. “Help. Someone, help me. She needs help.”

I rushed forward, kneeling down beside her. “Are you hurt?”

She shook her head, eyeing my badge as I clipped it back on my belt. “No, but she is.”

She held the woman’s head in her lap. I nearly missed the gunshot wound amid the station agent’s tight red braids. The shot had gone to the side, entering just beyond her temple and coming out the other side behind her ear. Regardless, I checked for a pulse, but she was gone. Her body just hadn’t gotten the message yet, and her pointer and middle fingers twitched.

I scanned the area for danger. The shooter was here. Close. He could have escaped in the fracas. “Did you see who did this?”

She swallowed, clutching the dead station agent’s hand. “Two security guards. They had those khaki shirts with the black. Lock Stock or something?”

“LockBox?” I asked.

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“Did you see where they went?” I hadn’t heard any other shots. The area had cleared, except for a few people who probably lived down here and the folks who were too wrapped up in their own lives or busy listening to their earbuds to notice the world around them.

She pointed with a shaky hand toward the nearest platform. “There.”

I reached for my phone and hit the speed dial for dispatch. “Shots fired.” I gave the pertinent details. The cops stationed inside the subway station had to prioritize their actions. The majority were busy making sure everyone evacuated safely. But a few made it through to pursue the shooter. By the time I hung up, three uniformed officers had clustered around me.

I left the woman and the dead station agent in their care and headed for the platform. After jumping the turnstile, I aimed ahead of me, silently clearing out the few remaining civilians as I made my way across the platform. At the far end, I glimpsed a khaki-colored uniform.

“Freeze,” I yelled.

The man hesitated for a split second. He faced the track, staring into the tunnel. Even if he jumped onto the tracks, he’d have thirty feet to clear before he could disappear into the darkness, and that was assuming he didn’t get splattered by a train or hit the third rail.

“Don’t even think about it.”

He cocked his head to the side. From here, I couldn’t make out much about his profile. He had short, dark hair. He held up one hand, bending his elbow at a right angle, as if he was announcing a touchdown, and then he turned sideways and fired. He kept his gun pressed against his stomach, practically out of my line of sight.

The first shot impacted against the metal bench directly in front of me, and I returned fire. He ducked behind one of the large, concrete support pillars and continued to fire blindly, keeping himself out of sight.

Diving behind a metal trashcan, I edged closer until I could take cover behind another one of the support pillars in that row. I pressed my back against it, spotting my partner making his way along the platform directly