Chapter 69

69

When Shaw hurried back to the post office staging area, the first thing he did was check in with the surveillance team.

On the Smart Board in the war room, he saw that the brick factory was in focus. It was live footage from a SWAT sniper up on the roof of the grocery store.

"Any movement?" Shaw said to the tech cop at the desk.

He was more chicken nugget–shaped than Chief Garner if that were possible.

"No. No one in or out."

"Not even at the windows?" Shaw said.

"The sniper can't really see anything. Most of those old windows are painted over."

"Leave the sniper where he is, but get all the other men together and tell them to meet me in the parking lot," Shaw said.

"You got it," Officer Seed Oil said.

Shaw went back outside. He was beyond formalities and pretense now. Without asking, he opened the driver door of the nearest police cruiser and reached down to pop the trunk latch.

Along the left-hand portion of the compartment, there was a red plastic gasoline can, bungee corded. Shaw smiled as he lifted the handle and felt its heaviness. He took the full gas can out and shut the trunk.

When he turned, he found several officers standing there, staring at him silently. He smiled at them.

He'd been drunk with anger before, but now mischief glinted in his glassy Adderall-laced eyes.

"Any of you boys smoke?" he said with a grin.

After Shaw received a pack of Marlboro Lights and a Zippo lighter, he lifted the gas can and went up Route 4 to a volunteer firetruck parked across from a canoe rental place.

The axe he took from the side of it was the fireman kind with a carbon steel blade on the front head and a nasty sharp-looking pickax on the back of it. He hefted its well-balanced weight by its light yellow fiberglass handle.

Oh, yes. Sweet. This would do quite fine, he thought.

Coming back into the post office lot with the axe and the gas can, he found Chief Garner and Travers talking to the other tactical officer, the thin blonde guy with the anchorman-type hair, Doug.

Beside them was the cherry picker with the ballistic shield on the front of it and Shaw went to it and laid down the axe and the gas can on its platform.

"What's up, Agent?" Chief Garner said.

Shaw ignored him. He tapped Doug on the shoulder and pointed down the road at the top of the old factory.

"Doug, I need one of your officers to drive this contraption with me."

"What's the play?" Chief Garner wanted to know.

"We have to smoke them out now," Shaw said merrily over Garner's head to the two dozen police who had started to gather. "Just got word from up top. We're in dire straits so we need to move now, full force. On my call, you will get into a firing position around that factory and get on your weapons. It's take-no-prisoners time, gentlemen. Do you understand? Now go to your vehicles and wait for my command."

As the men headed away, Shaw turned to Doug.

"Doug, you're in charge back here. As I get closer with the platform, on my call, I'm going to need full covering fire into all the windows."

"On it," Doug said, hurrying off. "Give us five."

"Covering fire?" said Garner wide-eyed as the SWAT cop left.

"Yes. In order to get onto the roof, I'm going to need these jerks with their heads down."

"What are you going to do on the roof?" Travers wanted to know.

"Set the structure ablaze, forcing the suspects to exit the premises," Shaw said matter-of-factly.

"Are you out of your freaking mind?" said Garner, leaning in and giving Shaw a hard-edged glare.

"You can't burn down the Beckford Tool Factory. It's a historic landmark!" he yelled.

"He's right," said Travers. "It's the reason this whole area exists. Be like burning down the Empire State Building."

Shaw didn't debate. Didn't even answer. He just shoved Garner and Travers out of his way left and right. Garner flew back so hard against the side of the cherry picker, it knocked his big hat off.

Then Shaw climbed aboard the cherry picker.

"Where is the operator of this thing? Get up here now! Let's go!"