Leverage in Death (In Death 47)

“Youch,” Baxter mumbled.

“Both medical and psychiatric evaluations determined Silverman should be honorably discharged.”

“Something else there. If he’d wanted to stay in, they’d have found a place for him unless they deemed him unfit. Wounded warrior.”

Roarke nodded at Eve. “I can look deeper.”

“Later. Do you have a current ID shot of Silverman?”

“Went off the grid after discharge.”

“A lot do, Lieutenant,” Trueheart said. “Plenty of sidewalk sleepers are vets.”

“Yeah. But that’s no sidewalk sleeper. Run Nordon,” she told Roarke.

“I am. Oliver Nordon, age thirty-six, freelance security consultant, residential and commercial.” He glanced at Eve. “Good call, Lieutenant.”

“Give me an address.”

“It’s 563 West Sixty-Third.”

“Baxter, warrants for Iler and Silverman/Nordon. Search and seizures on both locations. Use Reo, she’s fast. Trueheart, I want cops—team of four—sitting on Silverman’s address five minutes ago. In body armor.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Two more uniforms to this location,” she added. She snapped into the communicator already in her hand. “Feeney, eyes and ears, 563 West Sixty-Third. Apartment number?” she asked Roarke.

He didn’t look up from his PPC. “No. Townhome, three stories.”

“You catch that?”

“I ain’t deaf,” Feeney said.

“Suspect data coming to you . . .”

“Now,” Roarke finished.

“He’ll be armed, Feeney, and he’s fucking dangerous. Full body armor for your team. I’m tagging Salazar. He’ll have explosives.”

“I’ll tap her.”

“Warrants are in the works, uniforms en route to cover. Bomb sniffers, Feeney. Nobody takes the door until the sniffers clear it. And I want residences and businesses on both sides of the target location evacuated. Baxter, status!”

“Reo’s pushing it.”

She snatched the ’link from his hand. “Push faster, harder.” Tossed it back to him. “We’ll do the take down here then be at your location.”

She clicked off, narrowed her eyes at the image on-screen.

“Here’s how it’s going to go,” she said, then outlined the two-pronged op.

“She’s marvelous,” Rhoda murmured.

Roarke merely smiled. “Isn’t she?”

“Warrants coming through. Baxter, Trueheart, take your positions. Carmichael, Shelby, you copy?”

“Roger that.”