Thursday October 14th 8:17 A.M. Washington Heights
West 174th Street – Apartment of Jorge Gonzales
Kelli approached the dingy five-story tenement and pushed the front door open. Some security. No wonder this guy got robbed. She walked over to the stairs and looked up. Gonzalez lived on the top floor, and of course this building had no elevator. Not like I couldn’t use the exercise, though I did get plenty last night. A grin crept onto her face at the thought of Kevin and the previous nights events.
She started up the stairs and as she neared the second floor, gunshots rang out from one of the higher floors, followed by several screams and shouts. She drew her Glock, moved to the outside of the stairwell for better cover, and slowly edged up the stairs. By the time she reached the second floor landing, the screaming and shouting had stopped.
Kelli moved quicker now, taking the steps two at a time. When she reached the third floor, she heard a familiar voice shout “Clear” from somewhere above. That was Williams. At least I know he’s okay, but what about Dickerson? “Derrick, this is Kelli. You guys okay up there?”
“Yeah, both of us are good. What the hell you doing here anyway?”
“The boss sent me over after you guys left, figured you would appreciate having an extra set of hands,” she shouted, not reacting to the annoyance in his voice. “What the hell happened up there?”
“Some dumbass punk had to take a shot at Jon and me. It’s all clear now, you can come on up.”
Kelli holstered her Glock and bounded up the stairs. When she topped the landing of the fifth floor, Williams and Dickerson were waiting for her. She looked from Williams to Dickerson and back. “You guys okay?”
Williams nodded. “Sure, stupid fuck missed. Jon here took him down with the first shot,” he said, slapping Dickerson on the back.
“Yeah, dumb motherfucker came out of an apartment down the hall just as we were leaving. Guess he saw mine or Derrick’s badge and lost it,” Dickerson said, shaking his head.
“Hey, it was a good shoot, Jon,” Kelli said, seeing that it was bothering him. “It’s not like he gave you a choice.”
He nodded and pulled out his cell phone. “I guess I’d better get this called in,” he said, as he punched in some numbers.