Page 27 of Disavowed

“Captain.” Dom nodded to Capt. Fazioli. Lt. Frye sat behind his desk. When Gray rose from a chair to clap him lightly on the shoulder, he knew the gesture was one of not only professional support but friendship. True friends—ones who support you through good times and bad—were a rarity.

“When does IA get here?” Dom patted the bulge in his right front pants pocket.

“They’re waiting on my call,” Lt. Frye said as he dialed the extension for the big man upstairs.

Capt. Fazioli extended his hand, which he clasped in a firm grip. “Detective,” the captain said, “I don’t know how this insane plan of yours got approved, but I want to wish you luck and thank you for your dedication and service to this city.”

His captain didn’t have to say the words he really meant: in case I never see you again.

“Thank you, sir.” He shook the captain’s hand, and they all sat in chairs strategically placed near the speaker on Lt. Frye’s desk.

“Commissioner’s office,” a female voice came from the speaker.

“Lieutenant Frye.”

“He’s waiting for your call,” she said. “I’ll put you through.”

A moment later, the confident voice of the commissioner of the New York City Police Department came on the line. “Gentlemen, let’s get started.”

Lt. Frye identified all present.

“Detective Carew,” the commissioner began, “I initially opposed this plan due to the inherent and extreme danger. But apparently you have very important contacts that go all the way to the highest military levels. And there’s nothing I’d like more than for this department to be credited with taking down the Pyramid. As a result, I’m compelled to put one of my most decorated officers in serious harm’s way, and I need to hear directly from you that this is really something you want to do and that no one is pressuring you into it.”

Dom cleared his throat. It was a rare occasion to address the commissioner directly under any circumstances, let alone one as important as this. “Sir, I’ve never felt more strongly about any case I’ve worked. This is something I not only want to do, but I have to do.”

There was a pause, and if he heard correctly, a lengthy disgruntled sigh.

“Very well,” the commissioner said. “Good luck, Detective. Keep me posted.”

The line went dead. For a few seconds, no one spoke.

“All right, then. Moving on.” Lt. Frye leaned back in his chair. “Before we do this, give me an update on the thumb drive.”

The thumb drive Lt. Frye referred to had been grabbed by Alex just before the barn she’d been held captive in went up in flames.

“In the last six months,” Dom began, “Gray and I have interviewed everyone identified on that memory stick. Interviews confirmed they all had a weakness, something a Pyramid assassin could blackmail them with to do their bidding. Gambling debts, extramarital affairs, kinky sexual preferences. So far, none of them have been approached by anyone threatening to out their weakness unless they did something illegal.”

Lt. Frye massaged his chin. “How many people were on the list, and are any of them employed at One PP?”

“There are about sixty people on the list,” Gray said, “three of whom are employed at One PP. Everyone cooperated, and we feel confident that if anyone had actually tried to blackmail them, they would have alerted us.”

“Especially,” Dom interjected, “those working at One PP. The fact that we haven’t heard back from them poses the very real possibility that the Pyramid’s original target has changed.”

“That’s what concerns us.” Gray met his gaze, and Dom nodded that his partner should continue. “When the Pyramid’s assassin—Fatima—kidnapped Alex to get critical security information from her about One PP, we all assumed that One PP was the intended target. Now that the Pyramid knows Fatima is dead, we can’t ignore the possibility that the Pyramid will adapt and alter their plans.”

“And do we know what exactly their original plan was?” Capt. Fazioli asked.

Dom shook his head. “The only thing we can say with reasonable certainty is that they planned an attack on One PP, although it’s not clear whether it was intended to be a massacre of police personnel or a hit on someone specific. Remember,” he added, leaning forward, “the Pyramid is not a group of terrorists, they’re paid assassins. They don’t do hits unless there’s a specific target and there’s money in it.”

“And the list of dates on the thumb drive?” Lt. Frye asked, now tapping his pen on the desk.

“There were over a hundred dates spread over the next twelve months,” Dom continued. “Each date coincides with a city event that would be attended by dignitaries such as senators, congressmen and women, heads of city departments, the commissioner, the mayor. We’ve had extra police security at each of these venues on those dates, but nothing’s ever gone down.”

“Then for now we’ll go on the assumption that the Pyramid changed their plans,” Capt. Fazioli said. “And that the information contained on the thumb drive may or may not be of any use.”

“Agreed.” Dom turned to face his captain. “There were a few dates on the list for events that were either canceled, rescheduled, or for which the date has yet to be determined. The bottom line is, we’ve narrowed down the Pyramid’s target to something connected with that list of dates, but we do have to assume the date and venue may have changed.”

Dom stood to pace the room, feeling the other men’s eyes on him, and continued. “The Pyramid’s leader said they were understaffed, no doubt because Fatima and Abdullah are dead, and because of that they would speed-track my initiation.” He stopped pacing to stare out the window behind Lt. Frye’s desk. “This next hit is different, requiring multiple operatives.”