in. Using her upper arm strength, she grabbed the next rung with her hand and started to pull herself up. Her arms shook, burning as she moved to the third and then fourth step. She’d always been diligent with her training, even more so in lockdown, but still she struggled.
The clattering above her stopped just as she made it to the first landing. She looked up to see the sniper paused at the fourth one before turning around to run back up.
She’d been made.
“FBI, stop or I’ll shoot,” Lara yelled. She pulled out her gun as she ran the length of the landing and swung around to the stairs leading to the next one. Glancing up, she knew her command had been ignored. It was also a lie. She didn’t have a clear view of the perp and especially not a clear shot.
Her boots were loud against the metal, no longer trying to be stealthy. As she rounded the second floor landing, an elderly man popped his head out of his window with wide eyes.
“I’m calling the cops,” he yelled after her, disgruntled.
“Good,” she yelled back, breathing heavy.
The sound of her perp’s footfalls ceased while she was running up the next set of stairs. He was back on the roof and, if he wanted, could easily take her out as soon as she made it up there, too.
But as Lara climbed higher, she realized she didn’t believe he’d kill her. At least, not yet. When Dunst was killed, he could have done the same to her easily. Dreads and Beanie hadn’t been too far from her and her partner and in clear view of the apartment building she was currently scaling. The sniper could have put a bullet in them both, before they would have even known what was going on.
Why spare her life in those two instances only to take her out now?
Still, when she made it to the top of the fire escape, Lara slowed and steadied her gun. She might have believed her life wasn’t in danger, but that didn’t mean she was going to be stupid. With every intention of shooting the perp down if needed, Lara popped up to survey the rooftop.
The door to the building was centered to the left while a half wall enclosed a relatively empty space, save a few beer bottles and trash. Lara didn’t care about the litter. She scanned the roof for her sniper.
But he was gone.
Cautious yet quick, Lara ran to the door leading into the building and searched around it to make sure her perp wasn’t hiding. When she found nothing, she went back to the door, ready to continue the foot race through the apartment complex.
Lara cursed loudly.
The door was unlocked but not budging.
“Dammit,” she bit out. Moving a few steps back, she took a deep breath and ran at the door, throwing her shoulder into it at the last second. Pain burst in her arm, but the impact did nothing to the door. Whatever was on the other side was heavy and stationary. She’d have to hit it a lot harder to get it to move. With another deep breath she walked back even farther and turned, ready to make another go, when she heard a commotion on the other side of the door.
On a reflex she barely noticed anymore, she raised her gun and planted her feet apart, ready. She didn’t want to kill the sniper, but she could put him out of commission so he couldn’t escape.
The sound of scraping preceded the doorknob turning. Lara’s body was almost vibrating, every part of her keyed up in anticipation.
Finally the door swung wide.
“Lara?” Nick held the door open, his own gun in hand. He pointed it away from her at the same time she moved her aim away from him. It was a good thing neither partner had itchy trigger fingers.
“I chased him up the fire escape,” she rushed. “He escaped through there.”
“He didn’t take the stairs, and the elevator is out of service,” he called back to her as she followed him into the stairwell.
“He’s either hiding or trying to move around us,” she surmised. He nodded.
“Let’s go to the lobby and cut off his escape routes until backup gets here.”
Lara wanted to complain—she wanted to scour every inch of the building for the sniper right then—but knew Nick was right. The building was too big. If they went floor by floor looking for their perp, then chances were if he was on another floor he could just as easily leave without notice.
So she followed Nick down the stairwell, tight-lipped and equipped with razor-sharp focus.
Not once did someone enter the stairwell with them, and not once did they hear any other shots or yells.
When they got to the small lobby they found a woman and her teenaged son checking their mail at the boxes. They were understandably startled by the two plain-clothed FBI agents and their guns but managed to answer Nick’s questions.
“No, I haven’t see anyone come through here,” the mom said. “It’s just been us.”
“There’s a back door down there,” the teen answered next and pointed beyond the door to the staircase. “And then the front door.”
Nick told the mother and son to go inside their first-floor apartment and not come out until the cops came. They did as they were told.
“I’ll watch back, you get front,” Lara ordered, already moving away from him. The slow crawl of defeat was making its way through her adrenaline-addled body. Their window to catch the elusive sniper was rapidly closing.
“Roger,” Nick answered. “Be careful.”
“No promises.”
* * *
Two hours later and the feelings of defeat became concrete.
When backup arrived in the form of NYPD officers and the rest of their team, the entire complex had been searched, as well as the surrounding buildings. No gunman was found, and no witnesses could claim to seeing anything out of the ordinary.
Whoever their sniper was, he was good. And not just at killing.
“I don’t get it,” Nick growled when they were all back at the office. “Why take out two low-level thugs when you could just kill us?” Lara pressed the bag of ice against her shoulder. She may not have been successful at breaking down the door, but that didn’t mean she’d avoided the pain from attempting it. “Who would care about these guys? These—” Nick gave Lara a look “—not even big enough to be little fish lackeys?”
Xander ran a hand through his blond hair and popped a piece of gum in his mouth. He’d been the first of their team to arrive on scene, retracing the path Lara had taken before combing through the rooftop for any evidence that might link them to the sniper’s identity. Mei and Ty were still there attempting the same.
So far no one had found any. Not even the Laundromat held anything damning or out of the ordinary. The team was hitting wall after wall. A place the sniper seemed comfortable perching atop.
Lara fisted her hands at the thought of the unknown person destroying any chance they had at finding the truth.
It was as if they were chasing a ghost.
“Well, apparently someone does care,” Xander said. “About what? We’ll find out. Until then we need to keep in mind that, for whatever reason, they’re certainly not afraid to let the world know.” He turned his blue eyes toward her. “And they’re using you to lead them to anyone who wasn’t busted.”
“I agree.” Victoria entered the meeting room with her phone in one hand and a tablet in the other. Lara took in her boss’s appearance with appreciation. Most people would have been ruffled—physically—from everything that had happened, but Victoria Russo exuded nothing but calm. Her black-and-burgundy pantsuit fit like a glove. It was pressed perfectly, matching a pair of black high heels that gave the already tall woman even more height. The outfit walked a fine line between femininity and power. She went to the head of the table but