The Getaway (Sam Archer 2) Read Online Free

He could hear car horns and distant shouts in the distance, the constant soundtrack of the city, but the parking lot itself was quiet. The only physical activity in the area was the small gathering by the burnt-out taxi. His gaze settled on the charred ruins of the vehicle, and from his position across the tarmac he examined it closely.
    It had been torched from the inside, the interior blackened and destroyed from the blaze. There were several detectives from forensics examining the wreckage and an FBI agent from his team was stan d ing alongside talking with them, all of them wearing white latex gloves. He sniffed and smelt something in the air and instinctively covered his nose. There was no mistaking what it was. It was slightly sweet yet sickening and unforgettable. He’d smelt it once before, when he was still a cop and had been down at the World Trade Center after the bomb went off in ’93.
    Burnt human flesh.
    Trying to adjust to the smell, Gerrard walked forward, stepping past the blue wooden NYPD roadblock and pulling his badge from his pocket. One of the NYPD officers at the tape saw him approaching, badge-in-hand, and nodded, letting the FBI agent pass as he stepped over the taped cordon. A woman in a dark work suit standing near the vehicle also saw him coming and turned to meet him.
    Her name was Special Agent Mina Katic, one of the five agents under his command in the detail. She was a slim, dark-haired woman in her late-twenties, efficient, reliable and quick. She was athletically built, as if she played in some kind of sports league on the weekends or had maybe just been blessed with great genetics, but Gerrard knew that she burned off most of those calories just with her day-to-day activities working for the Bureau, much like himself. She was a single mother but was far too proud to live on maternity grants, and he knew she was determined to prove people wrong and maintain and build a successful career , whilst raising a nine year-old girl. He saw her walking towards him, a file in her hand, a nd thought about her situation.
    Despite the monthly pay-checks and the impressive poker face that she wore at work, Gerrard knew that she was struggling to make ends meet. She’d had the kid and married young, but her husband had died prematurely from cancer the year before, leaving her to fend for herself and the child alone. He would never tell her, but she was the best agent on his team, professional and intelligent. But for some reason Gerrard didn’t warm to her. He saw something in her eyes every time she looked at him, like she was mad at him or just didn’t want him around. He figured she was probably pissed that he’d been placed as head of the Bank Robbery Task Forc e and not her.
    She was one of the three originals who were on the team before Gerrard arrived with the other two newly-assigned agents. He knew all three of them had been gunning for the promotion, especially considering the great work they had done in lowering the heist-rate across the city in the last couple of years. They had been instrumental in that process and they knew it, and they had also managed to develop a solid working relationship with the NYPD, which in itsel f was pretty damn rare for any Federal office. He figured she was angry at being ignored for the post, or just angry at the shitty cards life had dealt her following the death of her husband. She was the only woman on his Task Force and had clearly learned to fight her corner in a male-dominated organisation. Gerrard watched her walk towards him. Despite being her boss, that constant look of distrust in her eye suggested that she considered him another opponent across the ring.
    She had a latex glove on her right hand and was cradling an open yellow folder in the crook of her left arm, containing some kind of report. Pulling off the glove, she stood beside Gerrard, who was surveying the scene through his sunglasses. Ne ither bothered with greetings.
    ‘ T hey strike