Twice an Assassin (eBook)

Bart W. Cassidy (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2023 | 1. Auflage
416 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
9781667895581 (ISBN)

Infos

An overworked, NYPD detective, Bart Sullivan, attempts to track down a serial killer, who has been brutally murdering young women throughout the northeast. When his partner's sudden death unveils a series of chilling secrets leading to the identity of the mass murderer, he is faced with the most difficult decision of his life: kill the monster who is slaughtering innocent women, and become an assassin, or allow the killer to continue until the justice system maybe catches up with him.

Bart Cassidy is an author, businessman, and a retired NYPD police officer. During his time with the NYPD, he spent several years working undercover and investigating brutal homicides, but his focus was always seeking justice for victims and their families. Bart had the opportunity to work on several high profile cases in a secret unit known only to a few high ranking officials, and it's this particular story that has remained front and center in his life for a long time, which is why he finally decided to write about it. His debut novel, 'Twice an Assassin', is based on facts, but the names and some details have been modified to protect the innocent and the guilty.

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In the midst of identifying the serial killer and tracking his every move, Bart unexpectedly meets a beautiful and successful woman, who he quickly falls in love with. He is confronted with a series of seemingly unattainable responsibilities. Protecting the love of his life and her influential mafia family leads him down another dangerous path filled with more twists and turns than he ever expected. Only the assassin will survive.

Textauszug

Chapter 3

FIRE

Bart pulled up to the brick building he had seen so many times before. It was early, and the just-rising sun created an angelic halo that immersed the New York City skyscrapers. Bart’s feelings about the place were anything but divine, however.

As usual, when he exited the elevator and walked through the frosted glass doors, he was the only patient in the stark white waiting room bathed in fluorescent lighting. In each corner stood a couple of modern sculptures that most likely cost more apiece than he made in a year. Dr. Lee had an extremely limited clientele that consisted mostly of the rich and famous. Bart had always considered himself very fortunate that Dr. Lee agreed to see him, especially after his most recent—and most severe—injury. He thought about that day often, and even more frequently when he had these damn appointments. He sat down, and his thoughts began to wander.

***

It was just two years earlier. Bart and Donnie were traveling through Brooklyn on their way back to Manhattan from interviewing an informant. This informant supposedly had information regarding the Star Killer, but, like most of their leads concerning that case, it proved to be a dead end. While they were driving up Putnam Avenue, Bart was intently looking out the passenger window.

“What are you looking at?” asked Donnie.

“The fire escapes.” Bart’s tone was monotonous, and his gaze never left the window. “Most burglars use them to exit apartments after a robbery.”

“Yeah, I know that, but the—”

“Wait. What’s that?” interrupted Bart. In the distance, a billow of smoke was coming from one of the upper windows of a building two blocks north. He pointed at the cloud. “Drive that way, Don.”

Donnie turned on the lights and sirens. As they got closer, they could clearly see a fire blazing on the fourth floor of an eight-story building.

Donnie stopped the car, and Bart jumped out. “Call the fire department!”

Bart raced toward the entrance, fully aware that a fire in a building that size was risky. He would need to evacuate everyone above the fourth floor first, before the raging flames and thick smoke engulfed the stairs. Bart ran into the building and sprinted up the eight flights of stairs to the top floor. He began running down the hallway and pounding on the doors. “Fire! Fuego! Fire! Get out!”

A young Hispanic woman was the first to open the door. A gold cross hanging at the entrance could be seen as soon as the door opened.

“There is a fire. You need to leave now.”

She walked back into the apartment. Bart yelled, “No! Fuego! Come back!”

She quickly returned to the doorway with two small children. All three were panicking and crying. He grabbed her shoulder and one of the children and guided them to the stairs before moving on to the next apartment. Uniformed officers had arrived, and while the young woman kept pointing back to the apartment, she was forcefully moved down the stairs with a large number of other residents. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion, yet all at once.

After what felt like an eternity of banging on doors and herding men, women, and children toward the exits, it appeared every apartment above the fourth floor had been successfully vacated. Hundreds of people congregated outside in the middle of the street that was lit up from the flames of the blazing building; most of them were wearing their pajamas, and some were without shoes or socks in the below-freezing weather.

Bart’s lungs were now polluted with smoke. He was gagging and vomiting with every breath he took. While he was keeled over, gasping for air, he noticed something in his peripheral vision. The young Hispanic woman with the two small children was frantically crying and screaming something in Spanish to a man who was trying to console her but obviously couldn’t understand a word. Bart walked over and attempted to calm her down enough to find out what the problem was, but she was so hysterical he couldn’t understand a word either.

Finally, Bart was able to decipher a few words between sobs. He realized she was saying her baby was still in the apartment. The haunting look in her eyes was one only a mother could have. He walked over to one of the water stations that had been set up, soaked a rag someone had given him to wipe the soot from his face, and did the only thing he could possibly do at that moment: he ran back into the burning building to find that baby.

The front entrance had been blocked with collapsed debris. Bart ran to a side door adjacent to the stairwell. Smoke was everywhere. He sprinted up the stairs with the cloth over his nose and mouth, coughing and heaving for air that no longer existed. When he finally got up to the eighth floor, each breath was grueling, and the lack of oxygen was beginning to make him disoriented. He began doubting whether he remembered which apartment was hers.

Stop. Think. Remember. The hallway was spinning, and each door looked like a carbon copy of the next, but then he remembered. The cross. He walked up to several doors, most still open, but he found no cross. Finally, he stumbled into the corner hallway apartment, and although the veil of smoke made seeing nearly impossible, he spotted the gold cross hanging adjacent to the door.

Barely able to see a foot in front of him, Bart stepped farther into the apartment and heard a faint cry. He thought he was hallucinating for a moment, but as he moved closer to the bedroom, the noise grew louder. He pushed the door open and attempted to locate the infant. He dropped to his knees and felt his way over to the bed. Nothing. He continued searching the floor, gliding his right hand over the shaggy carpet from one end of the small room to the other while holding the damp rag over his face with his left. Still nothing.

Bart crawled until his right hand hit something hard. The wall? There were handles. A dresser? He paused to listen. The crying grew louder. He moved his hand down the piece of furniture and noticed the bottom drawer had been left open. He reached inside and felt something soft. Sweaters? He rummaged around more. No, blankets. This drawer had been fashioned into a makeshift crib. He reached in and carefully picked up the infant, making sure its entire face was covered; time was now a critical factor.

Bart knew the flames below were tearing away at the building’s foundation, and the upper floors must have been very unstable. He approached the stairs and began walking down as fast as he could, but he couldn’t manage much more than a slow shuffle. He counted the floors as he descended, dropping his left foot first and then the right to meet it and repeating the process one stair at a time. Despite counting, he was so dazed from smoke inhalation he still couldn’t distinguish where he was.

Finally, Bart got to what he believed was the first floor. It was blistering hot, and his eyes no longer functioned. The fire was consuming the building. The walls screamed as the flames engulfed them. He knew no time was left. He did the only thing he could think of. He got down on his hands and knees under the stairwell, hoping it would provide enough support to keep the building from becoming a sarcophagus forever enshrining him and the infant.

No sooner had Bart placed the baby under his body than the earth exploded. The noise was deafening, and the debris landing on his back was torturous. He knew he could not allow his body to collapse, or the baby would die. Unbearable pain shot down his spine from the weight. The dust made it impossible to breathe. He could no longer hold his eyes open.

Somehow, thanks to God or fate—whatever you call it—the firefighters who responded to the explosion found Bart and the baby in a tiny enclave created by the steel stairwell. They were able to jack up enough of the debris to slide the baby out and extract Bart. The damage to Bart’s neck and back were serious, but once again, he had been given another chance at life. The police department wanted to have a ceremony and give him a medal, but he asked for a day off instead.

***

Bart was startled back to reality by Dr. Lee’s nurse, Tonya, who was standing at the entrance of the waiting room. “Bart? Are you ready?” she said again. He promptly stood up and walked over to her.

She smiled. “Good morning. You can follow me.” He walked behind her while removing his overcoat and signature cowboy hat.

Years ago, when the blackouts began and he was advised to see a neurosurgeon, Bart had gone on a few dates with Tonya, despite Dr. Lee’s advice against it. She was a lovely woman whose beauty was matched by her ability to carry on an intelligent conversation, but he knew fairly early on she wasn’t the one for him. She had probably known it before he did, but she enjoyed the company. Since she became a single mom of two, she welcomed any adult interaction she could get.

“How have you been?” she asked as they walked down the corridor. “We haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Not too bad. How are you? Are the kids doing okay?”

Bart hated formalities. Everything had ended cordially between him and Tonya,...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 15.5.2023
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Krimi / Thriller / Horror
• ISBN-13: 9781667895581 / 9781667895581