Unintended Consequences

closet, unlocked his gun safe, and clipped the holster to his belt. “Let’s go.”
    They were grimly silent on the way down. When they reached the lobby, Dino asked the doorman, “Did you see a large, beautiful blond lady leave the building?”
    “Yessir, a few minutes ago,” the man replied.
    Stone was already out the door, looking for the van, but it was nowhere in sight.
    Dino brushed past him. “Over here,” he said. He led the way a few yards down the street where, between two parked cars, a man’s hand could be seen. They both rushed to him and found Stanley unconscious.
    “Is he alive?” Stone asked.
    “He has a pulse,” Dino said, “strong and steady.” He lifted Stanley and rolled him onto his side; there was a large gash in the back of his head.
    Dino phoned the 19th Precinct, his old house, and ordered an ambulance and every available officer. “We’re looking for a large black Mercedes van,” he said. “Start at Park and Sixty-fourth and work outward in all directions. If it’s spotted, approach with caution, but don’t let it drive away.”
    Stone stood up. “I’m going to have a look up and down Madison,” he said. “I’ll call you if I see anything.”
    “I’ll join you as soon as the ambulance gets here.” As he started down the block, he called Mike Freeman, who was at the party.
    “Yes?”
    Stone could hear the jazz and conversation behind him. “Mike, it’s Stone. Dino and I are downstairs. Stanley has been rendered unconscious, your van is gone, and so is Helga.”
    “Any sign of my other men?”
    “No, and there are three of them and the driver.”
    “I’m on it.” He broke the connection.
    Stone reached the corner of Madison, stopped and looked both ways for the van. No sign of it. He went back to where he had left Dino, who was sitting on a car bumper, holding a handkerchief to the back of Stanley’s head.
    Mike Freeman came out of the building, his phone to his ear. “My guys are over on Lexington, having dinner. They’re on their way back.”
    “So is the entire Nineteenth Precinct,” Dino said.
    The ambulance arrived, followed by more than a dozen cops, in and out of uniform, who fanned out and began a methodical search.
    Stone’s phone made a musical noise, and he dug it out of his pocket. A message was on the screen.
We
’
ll be in touch
, it read.
    Stone pressed his favorites button and called Holly, who was upstairs at Dino’s party.
    “Holly Barker.”
    “It’s Stone. Dino, Mike, and I are downstairs. Stanley is being put into an ambulance as we speak, unconscious but alive. Your van and its driver are gone, and so is Helga. She has an Agency iPhone”—he gave her the number—“Can you locate it?”
    “Yes,” she said. “And I can do more than that. I’ll call you back.”
    Stone watched the ambulance drive away, with one of Dino’s cops inside with Stanley. Holly came out of the building, her phone in her hand. “Got it,” she said, showing them the map. “FDR Drive, headed south, doing at least eighty.”
    Dino called it in and asked for an intercept.
    “Turning onto the Brooklyn Bridge,” Holly said. “Not slowing down.”
    Dino transferred the information to the dispatcher.
    “Off the bridge,” Holly said, “on the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway. Wait,” she said. “It’s turning off onto Atlantic Avenue.”
    The three men watched with her, while Dino kept talking to the dispatcher. “We’ve got an APB for all of Brooklyn,” Dino said.
    Holly’s phone rang, and she answered it, pressing the speaker button so she could keep the map.
    “Yes, ma’am?” a female voice said.
    “Give me the view from the phone,” Holly said.
    The map closed, and the screen went dark. “The phone must still be in her handbag,” Holly said to the group. “All right, keep an eye on the phone and be careful of the battery life. Call me when you’ve got a view. Also, switch on the van’s camera.” She switched back to the map.
    “It’s gone,” Stone said. “It’s not on the map anymore.”
    “They’re indoors,” Holly said, “probably a garage.”
    “Probably switching cars,” Stone added.
    “Oh, shit,” Dino said. “We’re going to lose her.”
    The image on screen changed.
    “This is the view from the van’s camera,” she said, “looking forward through the front passenger window.”
    The view was of a row of parked cars.
    “They’ve left the van,” Holly said.
    Then something flashed by on the