"Yes," Preston agreed as they arrived at the elevator. He pushed the b.u.t.ton, tapping his feet anxiously as he heard the car moving up to meet them.

"We can't go in there alone," Jack said. "Not this time. This is probably it."

"We couldn't even if we wanted to. The DEA will be all over this one," Preston replied. "You saw them at the factory last night. Those agents were avoiding me like the plague. They're going to s.n.a.t.c.h this thing up. If we're lucky, they'll let us tag along."

"Yeah," Jack offered with a chuckle as the elevator opened in front of them. Stepping through the doors, he continued, "At least we'll get a chance to use the SWAT team."

"Alright, ladies," the team leader said to the a.s.sembled crowd, loudly enough to rattle Preston's ears. The room had been virtually silent as they had approached from the other side of the door. Inside, the SWAT team had been discussing mission specifics at normal volume. When they entered, the leader had made everyone stand, not unlike a drill sergeant, possibly trying to impress or intimidate the two of them. Now, the room was filled with about a dozen SWAT members and the two detectives, staring awkwardly at one another. "This is gonna be a clean job," he continued. "I like to make sure everything goes according to plan." The last of his words were directed at Preston and Jack.

The leader of the SWAT team was a weathered man, tough and heartless as the job required. He wore a thin five o'clock shadow, dark like his hair. He was built like a tank, but Preston had faced worse, especially within the last few weeks.

The entirety of the SWAT team was standing, each member having already studied the schematics of the building the detectives had provided to them beforehand.

They had gathered in one of the adjoining rooms to the station garage where the off duty cruisers were parked in the lower level. Outside, the truck was ready to go, sitting quietly before the raid which was to take place in a matter of minutes. Police cars were parked in the outer s.p.a.ces, allowing the truck to sit undisturbed in the center of the lot.

The target was only a fifteen minute drive from the station, operating with enough audacity to send a sliver of anger across Preston's face. He'd been expecting this drug trafficker to be the worst he'd faced yet. Now, it was clear that Wrath was bold as well.

Preston was beginning to get nervous. A full day had pa.s.sed since he'd infiltrated Sloth's factory only to find the one person he'd shared a connection with in the better part of two years had turned out to be one of his mortal enemies. In the shower that morning, he'd found some dried blood on his neck which he'd previously missed after scrubbing himself down the night before. There was no way to tell who it belonged to, Sloth or himself, before he'd washed it away forcefully.

The wounds on his face were starting to heal. The swelling had slowly gone down over the course of the last day. Through pure exhaustion, he'd managed to get six hours of sleep the night before. It was the most rest he'd been able to catch all at once in over a week.

Argosi and his mistress had provided descriptions of Wrath to the sketch artist. The images couldn't have been more different. With low expectations, Preston had searched through the database in an attempt to find a match, but gave up rather quickly.

"I hope you're ready for this, partner," Jack said softly, hoping he didn't interfere with the orders being given to the team. The SWAT continued to go over schematics and prep their weapons, virtually ignoring the two of them.

Preston nodded in response, still keeping one ear on the SWAT leader. He needed a little inspiration himself.

"Inside," the leader continued, "we expect to find the main production site of this drug that has been polluting the street for the last four months. I'm glad this day is here. I'm glad I get to be a part of it," he shouted with a military style enthusiasm. "Are you, ladies?"

"Yes, sir!" They all shouted in unison. Their response was more informal than Preston would have expected. Rather than rigid military style discipline, each man answered with a comfortable tone, albeit at the same time. The men standing to the side of them were trusted colleagues. Some had been working together for years.

"d.a.m.n right," he said with a smile.

Jack and Preston stood to the side, taking in the atmosphere. The first two factories, while successful, had come at a cost. There would be backup this time. Regardless of the remaining sins, Envy and Wrath, Preston would be there no matter what was waiting for them in the next facility. He also knew that Greed and l.u.s.t were still a problem. Sidelined for the moment, still locked in Argosi's mansion, the detectives had relented and kept them under guard as opposed to bringing them in. They had supplied a lot of information, some of it corroborated by Jason, but Preston could tell they were still hiding something. Whatever it was, Preston needed to make sure they stayed alive long enough to spill it. And you call me the Detective.

Preston could see a twinge of nervousness in his partner's face as he kept an eye on the SWAT team. It took a few moments for Preston to realize that only a few weeks ago he would have been just as anxious. He supposed that being through the two other factories and the alley near the hospital had desensitized him to the point of virtual comfort with the situation.

Still, the detective was aware of his own mortality now more than ever. With each factory, he'd come closer to death. If the trend continued, then he might not be coming back at all. Instead of pushing such a depressing thought from his mind, Preston held on to it, wondering if such a state of cognizance would help him through the coming raid.

"All right, move out," the leader yelled.

Chapter 17.

Preston and Jack sat inside the squad car as they watched the building from a distance. The SWAT team had already filed out, standing in formation as they prepared to begin their a.s.sault.

Jack had driven most of the way in silence, with the radio on at a barely audible volume. Aside from the SWAT truck, Agent Wilson had come along for the ride but, thankfully, had driven separately. In all, there were three vehicles that had driven in with the sirens off.

The factory was located in a similar industrial park as Gluttony's had been. Although not as accessible by the highway like the other, it was well connected, close to the heart of the city. Even now, as he looked up through the windshield, Preston could see they were almost surrounded by skysc.r.a.pers, hovering over them like a mountain range of gla.s.s and steel.

Fortunately, it also offered more cover in the form of low lying buildings dotting the immediate vicinity. More than a full day had pa.s.sed since Preston had used Jason's maps to locate the supposed facility. The building had been under constant and discrete surveillance. During that time, it didn't appear as if there had been much activity. No trucks of any kind had come or gone. However, the night before, it was reported that there had been lights coming from inside.

They were far enough back from the building to see it without being seen, or so they hoped. Being that it was the weekend, most of the surrounding businesses wouldn't be getting in the way. However, Preston a.s.sumed that because all the cell phones confiscated from Sloth hadn't received any messages, it was likely that the dealers hadn't been notified that her records were compromised. He began silently rea.s.suring himself that the plan may actually go off without a hitch.

Although still being investigated, Sloth's facility had turned out to be a monitoring station for Particle N research. On the roof of the small office building, several instruments used primarily by meteorologists had been discovered in operation. Furthermore, additional mechanisms were present, which until now had never been seen before.

Such devices had been used to track the Particle N using the confiscated wind maps. However, several still hadn't been identified fully. McGovern had said that if similar devices were present at the next facility, it may explain why Particle N is surrounding the building.

It didn't matter. There would be time for McGovern to sort through all of it later.

It was now two in the afternoon and the sun was beginning to roast the air. The heat welling up from the asphalt caused wavy distortions in Preston's vision as he stared forward through the windshield. The windows were down, allowing them to hear the m.u.f.fled sounds of the team as they prepared for their a.s.sault. Every few seconds a cartridge was loaded or the sounds of a vest being snapped on filled the car from outside.

Preston could almost hear the Detective laughing inside him. He leaned in and turned the heater on.

"Jesus," Jack muttered, slightly on edge. "It's eighty-five degrees out there. Give me a break."

"Sorry," Preston said, instantly realizing he was already burning up. Despite the temperature, he was wearing his usual wrinkled blazer and long pants.

He placed The Twist on the dashboard of the car, seeing the blue liquid flow down the circular incline.

"Not much else to figure out at this point," Jack said, seeing Preston stare deeply at the trinket. "Why did you even bring that thing anyway?"

"I think I may start bringing it everywhere," he replied. "You never know when you'll need something like this."

"Well, I hope that once we're inside that place, you won't feel the need to turn that thing over every time you see a guy with a gun, thinking about whether or not to shoot him."

"Oh, don't worry," Preston joked. "I'd never let him shoot me."

"I wasn't talking about you," Jack said with a chuckle. "What if they have the gun pointed at me?"

"Well, maybe I'd look at it for a little while. Shooting someone is a big decision that requires a lot of thought. I couldn't enter into that lightly, no more than a minute-guaranteed."

They both shared a slightly nervous laugh as Preston took the Twist off the dashboard and placed it in his coat pocket. His hand began to shake at the last moment, concealed from Jack by the fabric.

"We're almost at the end of the yellow brick road," Jack said rea.s.suringly as he switched the AC on without rolling up the windows. Looking forward at the team, he continued, "Pretty soon we'll meet the wizard."

"It's not the wizard I'm worried about," Preston offered. "It's the witch."

"Can this really be it?" Jack said, never taking his eyes off the scene unfolding in front of the car. The SWAT team had finished preparing. They began signaling to each other silently, moving out as they advanced toward the facility, concealed between buildings and spa.r.s.e trees.

"G.o.d, I hope so," Preston replied distantly, his attention now also focused ahead.

Agent Wilson's car had been sitting beside them since they pulled up. Shooting a quick glance his way, Preston could see he was also arming himself for battle. The man's suit coat was off, replaced by a bulletproof vest. Preston and Jack were already wearing theirs under their clothes.

Despite confronting Sloth individually without the approval of the DEA, Preston had reluctantly been allowed to accompany them on the raid. Even now, Agent Wilson threw him an unflattering look from the window of his car.

"You realize," Jack continued, "if Envy and Wrath are in there, not only do we bring this plague to an end, but medical science could get a huge boost."

Preston began to laugh. Noting the puzzlement on his partner's face, he explained himself. "I remember hearing about this before when I was a kid."

"What, Bloodstrife?" Jack asked, finally forcing his eyes away from the team to look at his partner.

"No," Preston said, still looking forward, "the moral argument that goes along with something like this. After the Allies liberated the concentration camps, not only did they free the survivors, but they began stumbling upon all the atrocious experiments that Doctor Mengele and the rest of the n.a.z.is performed."

"Yeah," Jack said. "So?"

"That guy was practically the devil himself. He would sew twins together at the wrists or freeze people to see how long they would last, the sickest s.h.i.t you can think of. In the end, he did manage to come up with a few practical medical applications that are in use today."

"Oh, I get it," Jack said with a shrug. "Is it right to use the information if it was arrived at through inhuman means?"

"When I was at the hospital," Preston said without missing a beat, "the screaming alone was reason enough to give this Wrath guy the death penalty, even if he's stumbled on the cure for cancer."

"I don't like the way that sounded," Jack said. "It sounded a little too certain. We just bring them in. They'll get their day in court; you still with me on that, my friend?"

"Don't get me wrong," Preston added, seeing the team begin to move in through the windshield. "I think this guy is a lot more valuable to the world alive. He knows things that could put us light-years ahead of the game. He has to be a genius of some kind. On the other hand . . ."

"I don't suppose I could convince you to go home?" Jack asked, growing more anxious. "You know, before this gets out of control?"

Preston shot him a condescending look.

"Alright," he said. "But if it looks like this is going to turn into an execution, I'll be there to stop you."

At that moment, the SWAT team broke down the door to the factory. The parking lot erupted with the sounds of yelling militaristic orders as they rushed in.

Both detectives exited the car, ready and waiting for the all clear. In silence they proceeded toward the outer perimeter.

Nervously, Preston flipped the Twist over in his pocket. Even though he couldn't see it, he took comfort that it was there.

The sounds of the SWAT team raiding the factory rushed out of the front door. Each team member took control of a small area, then issued an all clear.

One by one, the leader checked with the team members. After the initial chaos of the raid, things began to quiet down.

The detectives held their breaths. Although the evidence pointed toward this location, they would never know for sure if it was the end of the journey or the beginning of another.

Agent Wilson exited his car and followed them. He stared at the outside of the building, looking as if he were trying to see through the walls. He appeared confident, but cast a foolhardy glare at the detectives as he caught up.

"Don't worry," he said calmly. "I think we can have this wrapped up in a few minutes. It doesn't sound like they're encountering much resistance in there."

Agent Wilson was right. It was less than three minutes before the all clear was given. Preston's heart sank as the full magnitude of what that meant washed over him. He looked to his partner, offering a grim expression of disappointment as they began walking inside.

If the SWAT team had found someone, the detectives would have heard it. Instead, things appeared to be going downhill quickly. The team had told no one to get on the ground nor threatened to shoot. It didn't sound as if anyone was in there at all.

It took a few moments for their eyes to adjust to the light as they entered the factory. The large room was painted in the shaded glow of dirty windows and neglect, just like Gluttony's.

The ground level floor was completely vacant. Aside from the occasional cobweb, there were no abandoned machines or furniture like there had been at the other facility. It was just a large empty room with a dirty concrete floor.

"d.a.m.n it," Agent Wilson commented, practically to himself. "I hope there's something else downstairs."

"There usually is," Preston said discreetly.

Preston eyed the large warehouse interior, trying to see if there was anything suspicious above them. Only cracked and broken windows greeted him along with a damp, stained ceiling. There was nothing there. If the building contained any of the instruments McGovern had told them about, they wouldn't know for sure until they went up to the roof. But they saw no wires or cables leading in through windows or walls-no evidence at all that the equipment was present on top of the building.

The three men surveyed a couple of the attached offices; however, they were nothing but small, abandoned rooms. One of the offices contained a desk, which turned out to be empty. Occasional SWAT team members milled about upstairs while the others remained in the bas.e.m.e.nt, awaiting the detectives.

"We've got something in the bas.e.m.e.nt," the leader said as he approached them after arriving on the ground level.

Preston, Jack, and Agent Wilson all looked at each other, preparing themselves for the worst. The three men proceeded cautiously down the staircase to the lower levels along with the team leader. Any lingering members of the SWAT team which had returned to the upper level followed them back down.

The room was just as large as the one above, however, it was cramped and overcrowded with the innards of the building. A jungle of pipes as well as the furnace was present, branching out in a forest of metal. A shallow hissing noise was emanating from inside the ducts, leading them to believe that something was running inside. In the hot August weather, they wouldn't be using the furnace.

"Hey, Preston, look at this," Jack said. He'd traveled to the other side of the room and was staring at a small collection of what appeared to be steam pipes going through the floor. A small section of one pipe had been cut away, revealing a cl.u.s.ter of clear plastic tubes inside. "You smell that?" Jack asked as Preston arrived to see what his partner was investigating more clearly. His eyes perked up as he realized the damp, tainted smell of old honey, most likely corrupted by its travel through the pipes.

"It's got to be here," Preston said slowly, his eyes eagerly tracing the path of the pipes along the ceiling.

Both detectives moved away from the smell, trying to follow the flow of the pipeline, but lost the trail in the jumble of pipes above. The thin tubing was housed inside the standard steel pipes, joining up and branching out from several others only a few feet away.

"We've got something over here," one of the team members shouted from the midpoint of the room. The officer had opened a metallic box, about the size of an industrial furnace that sat in the middle of the floor. Inside was an empty vat. The large blue drum was stained black on the interior. The smell of old honey was pungent and overwhelming. It was certainly used to hold large amounts of the liquid Particle N that Jason had a.n.a.lyzed. Judging by the intensity of smell, it had been emptied recently.

"They've disguised the Bloodstrife manufacturing operation by placing it inside the internal workings of the building," Preston said, almost letting a smile come across his face. Even I have to admit that's clever, the Detective said.

"Seems like a waste to me," Agent Wilson responded. "The team found it easily enough. Anyone could have, by my guess."

Still looking inside the sh.e.l.l of the furnace, they could see pipes and various pumps positioned to channel the liquid up through the plastic tubing in the vents. Preston could only imagine how far it was intertwined within the structure of the building. It could take weeks to fully understand how far reaching it was.

"Keep tearing apart the furnaces," Preston told the team leader. "There has to be something down here. I want to find their supply!" The last order came out a little too anxiously; his tone of voice was frantic, as if he wouldn't be able to accept defeat.

"You heard him!" the leader shouted. Quickly the bas.e.m.e.nt erupted in the sounds of metal sheeting being pulled apart as the SWAT team tried to find the drug.

While some members worked at dissecting the factory, others covered them with weapons aimed. Although the plant appeared to be deserted, Preston wasn't going to take any chances.

Agent Wilson walked around the bas.e.m.e.nt, surveying the operation. He treaded carefully, occasionally dodging a random piece of debris as it was removed from the pipes or furnaces and sent to the floor. The man looked mildly nervous, more likely plagued by the thought of an irrelevant bust than the fear of being ambushed. Although, from what they had found so far, Preston knew there wasn't much to be worried about. A glimmer of hope still burned in his mind.

The team leader approached Agent Wilson and Detective Burroughs.

"While the team is taking care of the main bas.e.m.e.nt, there's one more thing we need to show you. There's a door we can't get open. It's a big one, too." The officer's voice was steady and undisturbed.

Preston's ears perked up at the description. "It's the freezer, isn't it?

"That's right," the leader replied as he showed them to a secluded part of the bas.e.m.e.nt.

Based on the schematics, most of the department had a.s.sumed that the freezer wouldn't be used for the primary operation. It was relatively small compared to the rest of the building. Based on the knowledge they had obtained from the previous factories, there wasn't much equipment that could be used adequately inside. Now, it was turning out to be their last hope.

"Let's see what we've got here," Jack said as he caught up with them. He spoke loudly, allowing his voice to travel over the steadily building noise from the team.