In Death 19 - Visions in Death

companion. One child, son." "You get me the mother's image from, say twenty years ago, I bet you get me a white woman with long, light brown hair." She slapped Feeney on the back.
    "Lieutenant?" Roarke held out his palm unit. "She's a hit on your customer list for Total Crafts." "Get me details on her purchases, last six months. Look for the cord."
    She snapped back to Feeney. "Let's get started," she said and turned to her "link to contact the commander.
    Fifteen minutes later, she was in a conference room briefing her tactical teams. "Team One takes the target in Brooklyn.
    Briscoll goes in as delivery to ascertain if the subject is on the premises. Target is to be surrounded at all points. We're also looking for a black van, now identified as registered to subject's mother. Last year's model, Sidewinder. If said van is spotted, lock it down. Baxter, you're heading this team.
    "Team Two will deploy to the Fulton Street residence. The same procedure applies, with Ute taking the delivery position.
    I head this team. In both locations, we go in fast and we go in hard. Warrants are coming through. If the subject isn't located, we wait for him. I don't want this asshole making a cop. He makes any of you, I fry you. We take him down, and we take him today. If there are any screwups on this one, any screwups in procedure, in chain of evidence, if somebody fucking sneezes at the wrong time, I will personally put their neck in a wringer and hit go. Questions?" "Just one." This from Baxter. The subject is a large individual with considerable muscle. It may take some extreme measures to restrain him. Just want to make sure everyone on my team is prepared to take these measures, whatever they may entail." Eve angled her head. "I want him conscious for Interview.
    Other than that. . ." She let it hang. "Don't let those measures get out of hand. Move out. Feeney, round up Team Two."
    She ordered her team to strap on protective gear. Though she didn't see it as an issue, she wasn't taking chances. She didn't want to visit another cop in the hospital.
    "You don't figure the mother's in on this," Feeney said as they waited inside the surveillance van.
    "No. We got the cord, twenty-yard length of it, delivered to the Fulton Street address five months ago. I'm saying she had some in stock previous to that, and the new supply was ordered by the son. She didn't have any deliveries listed before that, or after. She always picked up her supplies. I figure she's dead or incapacitated." She shifted to the balls of her feet, back again. Squatted and straightened to be sure the gear didn't hamper movement.
    "If he offed her, maybe that's what set him off on the rest. Maybe she just kicked, and that set him off, but I'm betting he helped her out." She looked over at Roarke. "You and I are going in the front, once we've determined he's inside. Feeney and his man in the back. Communications remain open, at all times. I want everyone with a badge, and the civilian consultant, to know where everyone is. Good-sized house," she commented, studying it through the screened window of the van. "One floor down below street level, two above. Two men take the below, and we go in on my signal. I want every door, every window covered. He moves fast, and he's not going to fall down and surrender. He'll run." "Team's in position," Feeney told her. "Go to Ute?" "Go." She watched Ute zip down from the east corner on a compact jet-bike. He secured it at the curb, bounced off, and up to the door with his misdirected package. He rang the bell, bounced his head around as if bopping to the beat of music through headsets.
    And she heard, clear as a bell, the answer from the security-corn.
    "What?" "Delivery, man. You wanna sign. Shit. Starting to rain." The first thin drops splat the streets and sidewalks when the door opened.
    "Hold positions."
    "You got the wrong place," Blue said. "This is 803, not 808." "Hell, it looks like a three. Are you--" The door slammed in his face. Ute made a business out of turning his back, pointing at his ass, and making a kissing sound before bouncing back to his bike.
    "Subject verified. No visible weapons." Eve jerked her head, and slipped out the side door of the van with Roarke. He hefted the small battering ram. She crouched behind a parked car as Feeney drove off.
    "Gonna get wet," she murmured. She rolled her shoulders, rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet.
    "You know, Lieutenant, I can get through the door nearly as