She buggered off by tapping her fingers on the steering wheel.

Better if they nailed her at the other location, Eve thought. Better if they had that flop surrounded, took her there.

But...

"All right then, let's see if I've performed a small miracle."

Roarke programmed the coordinates, tapped in codes, scanned the small screen.

"Geeks rule." With her chin on the back of his seat, Peabody studied the screen through her visor. "You've got a read."

"Now let's see if there's anyone home."

He began a slow scan, starting with the main floor.

"A narrow basement area beneath, in case you didn't know. Nothing there, nothing on the main floor. Starting scan of second floor."

Nothing flared as he scanned slowly foot by foot.

"Second floor clear. Starting scan on third level."

Here or there, there or here, Eve thought, waiting for one of her team to report back. Waiting for something to flare.

"Ah. Geeks and cops rule, it seems. There she is, Lieutenant."

"I see her," Eve noted, and watched the flare of the heat source on screen.

"Stretched out. I bet she's bored. Watching the screen, watching monitors. We're going to give her some excitement. Lowenbaum!"

"Got you back," he said. "Your EDD cutie's in there, working the droid, but word is his memory disc doesn't show the suspect in the last twenty-four. That's as far as he goes."

"Because she's here."

"Son of a bitch."

"I want you to leave some of your men on that building. Visible, Lowenbaum, but not too obvious about it. I'm going to use your location as a distraction. Throw her off. The rest of you come in fast and quiet. We're going to take her, Lowenbaum."

"Bet your superior ass."

"Reineke, you copy?"

"That's affirmative."

"Leave some of the uniforms. Make them visible. And get the rest of the team to this location. Barricades at the end of the block, both sides. Keep out of eyeline unless and until I say different. We're going to move in five."

"Watch your ass, LT, and the rest of you."

She tagged Nadine again. "NYPSD officers, including SWAT, are moving in on the remaining suspect in the recent LDSK murders. Lieutenant Eve Dallas is supervising a takedown of Willow Mackie, believed to be holed up in an SRO building on Lexington. Dallas reports an arrest is imminent."

"What kind of bullshit is this? You never report that and you never feed the media during an op."

"You're not just the media, are you? Go with it, go now. I can promise you, it'll be worth it. Every level worth it. Go with it, Nadine."

"I'll go with it, damn it. You're going to owe me."

"I've already got the payment ready. Later."

Eve engaged her comp screen. "It shouldn't take her long."

In fact, it took just under two minutes before Channel Seventy-Five's feed went to their hot blue and jittery red Breaking News flash.

The on-air reporter announced an important development in the hunt for the suspect in the Madison Square attack, and threw it to Nadine, whose voice came over with a photo of her in the corner of the screen.

"This is Nadine Furst reporting by remote as even now police officers and SWAT units converge -"

Eve cut off the screen, shoved open her door the instant she saw the heat source move from recline to stand.

"We got her attention. Gear up." She tossed Roarke a helmet.

"Now, really, Eve."

"Wear it or stay here." She pulled out her own, shook her head at it. "Hate these. They're heavy and they echo."

"What I said!"

"I never said you were wrong. First, we get in that's on you," she said to Roarke. "I take the front stairs. Peabody, you go through, go up the back stairs. If she's wearing body armor, aim for the head. Nobody sits around watching screen in one of these damn helmets. Make damn sure your stunner's on mid-range. We aren't giving her any love taps, but I don't want to risk paralysis. She doesn't go down, you amp it up. Roarke, I need you to hang back, second level, in case she gets by us. She gets by us, you take her out."

"Backup?" Peabody asked.

"By the time we're in position, by the time we get in, they'll be here. Where is she?" Eve asked Roarke.

"Sitting, very likely on the floor of the room third floor, front of the house, far side."

"Watching the screen. Keep it going, Nadine. Sixty-five feet. Let's cover it."

They moved fast, eating up the ground on a cold, clear day, with Roarke keeping track on the portable.

Not a lot of tourists on this more residential street, Eve noted. And most natives barely spared a glance at three people half jogging down the sidewalk wearing visored helmets.

But even jaded New Yorkers would gather and point at a SWAT unit. The goal? Get in before the op drew any sort of attention. Before Willow Mackie realized her location was blown.

They reached the door, crouched down together.

"Peabody, take the portable. She moves, we know it. She'd need to be at the window, angled and looking down this way to spot us. Roarke, do your thing."

"Scanning security first."

"Reineke, status."

"Barricades going up. We'll come on foot from here."

"You and Jenkinson take the back of the building. Hold there until I tell you, then come in hard. Lowenbaum."

"Copy."

"Target is third floor, southeast window. She's on the floor, watching screen, so if you're going to move your men, do it now, do it fast."

"We've got her. Feeney's located her. We're moving. I'll have men on rooftops, facing buildings. Sending another team with yours to the rear. She's pinned, Dallas."

"Pinned isn't done. We're working on silent entry."

"She's a clever girl," Roarke said. "She's jury-rigged a secondary alarm. I expect it signals her 'link. It's clever, but relatively basic. Just another moment."

To give her time, to give her a heads-up, Eve thought, when the family came home.

She glanced around, scanned, caught a flash of movement on the roof of the building directly across the street.

"Peabody?"

"She hasn't budged."

"Roarke?"

"Alarms down. I'm on the locks. And they're popped."

"All teams, all teams, we're going in. Peabody, rear steps; Dallas, front; Roarke front to station on second level. We're on the move."

She reached for the door handle. "Leave the portable, Peabody. Straight back. Straight up."

As she eased open the door, she drew her weapon.

Technology aside, she swept the foyer, straightened slowly. "We're in," she murmured for the recorder, and signaled Peabody to go.

With Roarke, Eve started up the stairs, said nothing when he held a weapon very similar to her own.

"Feeney?"

"Got you, kid. Got Roarke, got Peabody. Target's in the same position."

"Heading up to her now."

She gestured to Roarke: Stay here. "Baxter, Trueheart, Santiago, Carmichael, move in the front, fan out inside."

She started up the next flight, ears cocked. Halfway up she heard the murmur of voices, identified Nadine's.

She made it up two more before she heard the distinctive creak from the back stairs. She didn't need Feeney's warning in her ear that Willow heard it, too. She caught the sound the scramble of feet, started up in a run.

"Move, move, move! Police!" she shouted, leaping up the last stair. "This is the police!"

The flash grenade exploded on impact, two feet in front of her. Even with the visor, the blast of light burned against her eyes. Momentarily blinded, she laid down a stream along the floor, hoping to keep the target contained.

She felt return fire heat and pressure against her shoulder, her hip, pivoted.

Willow hit her hard a shoulder in the sternum, with momentum behind it. It took Eve down, stole her breath, but she rolled, threw out a hand, managed to snag the girl by the ankle.

Got a vicious kick in the head that had her helmet vibrating.

She heard shouting through the glare, the smoke, through her earbud. Pounding feet. More than seeing, she felt her quarry swing around, shove up from where she'd fallen, and fire toward the shouts. Because Eve rolled again, the next kick glanced off her ribs. She tossed up her legs, scissored them, connected hard enough to send Willow stumbling.

Seconds before the next flash exploded, she saw the blur of movement shoot to the left. She feinted right, heard the whine of the strike from the handheld shimmer the air where she'd been. From a crouch, she did a fast forward roll toward the doorway in the direction the blur had gone.

She dove left this time, so the strike shot through the opening.

Thinking of her team, thinking of blocking escape, Eve kicked the door closed.

She couldn't see, not clearly enough through the smoke, through the glare. Which meant she couldn't be seen. Any attempt to communicate with her team would give away her position.

She did what Master Wu taught her in those strange and fascinating lessons in the dojo. She breathed through her toes, became the fish whatever the hell that meant. She risked lifting her visor she couldn't breathe, couldn't hear through the echoes. She went absolutely still, and let her senses rule.

The faintest sound, like the movement of the smoke in the air. Following instinct, Eve fired toward it, aimed low. Heard the hiss of shock, rolled, fired again.

The door crashed open, and shouts rang through it. The volley of strikes zipping through the smoke, the opened door had her shouting to Get back! Get back! even as she sprang up to dive clear herself.

She caught a glimpse, barely a glimpse through the glaring billow of smoke. The girl wearing a riot vest, the laser in one hand, the grenade in the other. The grenade hand unsteady it was unsteady from a glancing stream.

Eve's weapon and the grenade went off simultaneously. Still tuned, Eve heard the rush of boots across the floor, leaped over, slammed the door. The resulting thud and fall brought only an instant of satisfaction.

Eve fell on the target, grappled with her in the choking smoke.

It was ugly. A hard knee to the crotch seared straight through Eve, an elbow shot had her eye burning, watering, but she managed to grip Willow's weapon hand with her left, began to twist. They rolled, with the girl getting in a couple of decent punches while Eve focused on disarming her.

The laser went off, shot a strike through the privacy screen, smashed the window.

"Give it up!" Eve ordered. "There's nowhere to go."

"Fuck you!"

When the door slapped open again, Eve rapped Willow's weapon hand hard on the floor. "Hold fire! Hold fire! I've got her almost. Don't fucking stun me."

She shifted, using her weight to increase pressure. Later she'd think that slight change in angle had caused the point of the combat knife Willow jerked out of her belt to slice along her hand rather than her throat.

But the pain, the smell of her own blood, changed Eve's tactics.

"Fuck this." On that sentiment, she gave Willow a sharp head butt the advantage was hers considering the helmet then she short-jabbed her fist into Willow's larynx.

She heard the knife clatter, felt the laser hand convulse, then give. Still working half-blind, Eve shifted again, shoved Willow over, yanked her arms behind her back.

"I've got her," Eve called out as she snapped on restraints. "I've got her! Hold fire. And somebody get this smoke clear."