Page 72 of NYPD Red 7: The Murder Sorority

About five minutes into the wait, Sarah’s voice came on the radio. “Nurse on her way to the bloodmobile.”

One of the two female nurses walked across the parking lot and entered the mobile unit. When she came back out, Sarah reported. “Total time inside: a hundred and fourteen seconds.”

A few minutes later, the second female nurse made the same trip.Ninety-sevenseconds.

More than enough time for our guys to get in position.

Five minutes passed, and Sarah came back with the call we were waiting for. “Subject just wrapped up a collection. He’s marking the bag. This could be it.”

Louie cut in; his voice urgent. “Golf cart approaching from the plaza. It’s some sort of official Mets vehicle. Not sure what they’re doing here. This wasn’t in the script.”

Both Kylie and I zeroed in on the cart as it pulled up between the tent and the bloodmobile. Two men stepped out, both dressed identically in khaki pants, blue shirt with patches on the sleeve and breast pocket.

“Mets security guards,” Louie said. “They don’t seem to be on a mission. It looks like they’re just checking things out.”

The binoculars were powerful enough to give me anup-closeview of the guards. Sports arena security is an easy transition for retired cops whose careers are behind them and who are looking for a funpart-timegig. These two men were both in their early fifties, and I figured they came from any of the hundreds of police forces in thetri-statearea.

The driver seemed to be enjoying himself. He strolled around chatting up the fans. And then somebody caught his eye. He yelled something I couldn’t hear.

“Shit,” Louie said. “The security guy knows McSpirit. He’s waving at him. Calling out his name.”

I swung the glasses to look at McSpirit. He didn’t flinch. Instead, he gave the man adead-coldstare.

The guard had to be anex-cop, because as soon as he caught the look, he knew McSpirit was on a job. He called to his partner and the two of them hustled back to their cart and rode off.

“Subject is walking toward the bloodmobile,” Sarah announced.

Kylie keyed the radio. “Did he see or hear the guard call out McSpirit?”

“Can’t say. Subject was marking the blood bag. He didn’t look up.”

Kylie put the radio down and turned to me. “Of course he didn’t look up. He’s too fucking smart to look up.”

I took a quick glance at Rayborn. His hands were over his face, no doubt imagining the worst.

Barbara opened the bloodmobile door, stepped inside, and closed it behind him. One by one, McSpirit’s team moved into their predetermined positions. Brian Bock had his Taser at the ready. As soon as the fifty thousand volts dropped Barbara to the ground, the entire team would dogpile on him.

“He’s been in there sixty seconds,” Sarah announced.

Louie cut in. “The other male nurse is on his way to the bloodmobile.”

“Intercept him,” McSpirit ordered.

I watched as Louie ran over to the man, his mic still on. “Excuse me, Nurse. My girlfriend is feeling a little woozy. Can you help me?”

“Sure,” the nurse said. “Where is she?”

Sarah had picked up on the cue and immediately sat on the ground. Louie and the nurse knelt down beside her.

“Ninety seconds,” Sarah said, counting the count.

And then a diesel engine roared to life. It was the bloodmobile. A shower of sparks erupted as it lurched forward, ripping the electrical connection from the light pole.

The entire team was blindsided. Bock lunged at the door, tried to open it, but theforty-five-footbus was moving too fast.

People scattered as Barbara plowed into a souvenir stand, then swerved to take out one of the tent poles, then a second. The heavy canvas tent came down hard on the blood donors and medical staff below.

“I told you to call it off!” Rayborn screamed at Kylie. “I told you!”

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