Exceptional Merit (18 page)

“Keep your hands where I can see them!”  West saw the man drop his hand from the steering wheel after handing over his documents but did not think much of it.  He didn’t believe it to be any sort of threat.  The man most likely began to relax.  Of course, it was better to be safe than sorry and West always tried to employ good tactics.  Car stops were the most dangerous part of police work.  They never knew who they were pulling over.  It could just as easily be a perp fleeing a double homicide as a person rushing because they are late for work.

His partner’s loud command momentarily distract
ed Lynch from taking in Nora's beauty.  Officer Lynch shined his flashlight on the driver’s right hand, not noticing anything unusual.  He watched as the man placed both hands back on the steering wheel.  He glanced back down at Nora.  “Tell you boyfriend not to make any sudden moves.  My partner scares easy.”  Nora smiled at the officer’s joke.

Flynn thought to himself how alert the one cop was and that he would definitely have to take him out first, quickly and cleanly before he could fall back on his training.  Flynn decided however, that the officer's training was nowhere as intense and certainly not superior to his own.  He reminded himself they were both wearing bullet proof vests so head shots would be necessary.

West stared at the driver’s license.  There was something about it that bothered him but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was.  He would compare it to his own license when they got back to the car to see if he could figure it out.  “Stay in the car.  I will be with you in a few minutes.”

Flynn saw the way the officer was examining the license he had just handed to him and he wondered how good of a forgery Quinn had supplied him with.  The officers then went back to their patrol car and took a seat.  Flynn watched closely in his rear view mirror and reached under his shirt, taking the safety off the automatic handgun in his waist.  Nora seemed oblivious to what was going on and commented on what a pervert the one officer was.

West shook his head at his partner.  “There's something about this guy I don't trust.  I get a bad vibe from him.  He's definitely been drinking.  I can smell the booze as soon as he opened the window.  What did you think of him?”  Although Pete Lynch did not make a lot of collars, West respected his opinion.  He was usually a pretty good judge of character.

“Honestly Ed, I was focusing my attention on his girlfriend.  She was very perky if you know what I mean?”

“Lots of help you are.”  West handed his partner the driver’s license the man had given him.  “Take a look at his license.  I don't think it's real.  I can't see the state seal when I shine my flashlight on it like you’re supposed to.  The color looks a bit off too.”

West offered his own license for comparison.  “Here look at mine.”  After a brief moment
, “What do you think of it?”

Lynch agreed.  “Yeah, I’m with you.  This license doesn’t look legit.”

Lynch punched the Client Identification Number into the computer to conduct a license check on the document provided.  The computer once again beeped.  Both officers read the screen.  It read no hit.  “I think you have yourself some overtime here Eddie.  Let's check this guy out a little closer if you want.  As long as you’re taking the collar, that is.”

West looked at the clock on the radio car’s dashboard.  He decided he could get a decent amount of over time for a forged document collar.  “Don't worry about it Pete, I wouldn't dream of sticking you with a collar.”

“Hey, who knows, after we cuff him up, maybe I will need to console his little Colleen there.  I can’t leave her all alone in the middle of the night, now can I?”

Lynch flashed his partner a quick smile and raised his eyebrows up and down.  West just shook his head and laughed.  The officers exited their marked department radio car and began to approach the Nissan.

Flynn watched through the Nissan’s side view mirror as the officers approached.  He observed the officer on his side was approaching him once again with his hand on his gun.  This signaled to Flynn, without any question in his mind, there was something wrong.  Flynn reached down under his shirt and grasped the butt of the nine millimeter.  He calculated his plan in a matter of seconds.  The moment the officer reached his window, he was going to pull out his gun, spin around and eliminate the first cop.  He would fire three quick rounds squarely into his face.  He would then get out of the car while firing upon the less aggressive cop.  He figured he could kill them both in a period of about five seconds.

He would then of course, drive to a different location before killing Nora.  He was always taught never to waste any more time than necessary at the scene of a hit.  He also knew if he left Nora’s body at the scene with the dead police officers, he would inevitably be linked to the killings.  Too many people had seen him with Nora, leaving the bar and then again at the diner.  Flynn's heart began to pound against his chest as the officers got closer.  He firmly held the gun in his right hand as they were only feet away.

“
10-13 Shots Fired
! Forty-Second and Second!” was frantically broadcast over the department's portable radio.  “
Shots fired, central
!  Get me some units here!  Shots fired!”  The sound of terror resonated in the cop’s voice as he frantically called for backup.  He was clearly fired upon and possibly engaged in a gun battle that could end his or his partner’s life.

West threw the man’s license and other paperwork towards the Nissan as he and Lynch scampered back to their department auto to respond to their fellow
officer’s call for help.  West dropped the car into gear and they sped off towards Forty Second Street and Second Avenue.  Officers West and Lynch would go home that morning after their shift, not realizing how close they had come to losing their lives.

Gerald Flynn took his hand off the gun and watched his papers fall harmlessly to the ground.  He got out of the rental car to retrieve them.  He had no idea what had just happened but he felt it was better off this way.  If he had been forced to murder the cops, he would have had to lay low for the next couple of weeks.  He wouldn’t be able to conduct reconnaissance missions to prepare him for what needed to be done.  He figured at very least, the police would release composite sketches of the man wanted for murdering two of their own.  Now he remained faceless in a city of millions and that was exactly what he wanted to do.

Flynn was pleased at how everything played out tonight.  He reflected on it as he and Nora lay naked on the bed of his hotel room.  The brush with the law had seemed to make his tryst with Nora even more stimulating.  It acted almost as an aphrodisiac.  It seemed to have the same effect on Nora as well.  She had been all over him from the second they entered the hotel room.  Flynn had lit a cigarette and glanced at Nora's naked body, deciding she had been quite a trophy.  He had his share of women but Nora was far prettier than most and had a fantastic body.

Nora had been taken back slightly when she saw Flynn remove the gun from his waistband but she never questioned him about it.  In fact, it had actually turned her on.  She started to sense there was something dangerous about this man but she didn't mind, it was exciting.  She enjoyed the mystery.  He could be a cop, a federal agent or perhaps a gangster.  She wondered but did not ask.  Nora slipped under the covers, getting ready to sleep a good part of the day away and she rested her head on Flynn's chest.

“I wouldn’t get too comfortable if I were you love.”  He took a long drag from the cigarette and the orange glow grew bright in the dimly lit room.

Nora was a bit confused.  “And why is that?”  She half thought he was kidding.  “I thought we could spend the day together.  Sleep until noon, then make love again.”

She playfully scratched his chest with her fingernails and licked her lips seductively at him.

“That won't be happening.  I've got things to do and you best be on ya way.”

He wasn’t kidding.  She could see it in his eyes.  The warmness was gone.  Nora began to feel a bit uneasy at the harsh manner in which he started to speak to her.

She began to reason with him.  “But I don’t understand.  I thought we…”

Flynn cut her off mid sentence.  “There is no we, Nora me love, we had our fun but it's time for you to go.”  He didn’t yell or even raise his tone of voice but he made himself unmistakably clear.  “I'm finished with ya.”

He was very callous and matter of fact.

Nora felt used and in fact she had been.  She held the sheets around her body as she gathered her clothes and took them into the bathroom to get dressed.  She fought back tears that began to well up in her eyes.  She was mortified.  She stayed in the bathroom for nearly fifteen minutes, trying to gain her composure.  She became more furious than upset.

Flynn sat up in bed and watched as Nora stormed into the bathroom.  He continued to draw from the cigarette while thinking about the days ahead.  Nora emerged from the bathroom fully clothed with a hint of a tear in her eye.

“Will you at least be kind enough to drive me home?  I live on the other side of town.”  She was distraught and hated herself for even asking.

He shook his head.  “No. I don’t think I will.”

Flynn motioned to his wallet on the night table.  “Why don't you take twenty dollars from me wallet and call a cab.  Just wait for it in the lobby.  I need me sleep love.”

Nora was enraged.  She yelled at him.  “I don't want your fucking money!  I'm no whore Sean!”

“And so you're not, now are ya Nora?  Oh well, at least a whore gets paid for her services.  Take the money or walk home.  It’s up to you.”

Flynn exhaled a drag of smoke from his cigarette and stared at the television.

Nora O'Donnell had never been so ashamed of herself.  She used anger to mask her hurt feelings as she left the hotel room.  “Fuck you Sean, you're a real bastard!”

Nora's words were meaningless to Flynn and he didn’t think twice about them as he lay there.

Nearly a half hour later, he began to get dressed.  He tucked the handgun back into its familiar position in his waistband.  He left his hotel room in the pre dawn hours and drove into Manhattan before the city came to life.  The crisp morning air shook any signs of weariness from Flynn's body.  He parked the rental in a parking garage, informing the attendant he would return in less than two hours.

He walked from along Fifth Avenue, studying the stores in the area.  He examined every cross street to Fifth Avenue from Forty-Forth Street until Eighty-Sixth Street.  He was looking for the best place to make the hit and for the most opportune escape route.  He had been told a clean escape would be nearly impossible but he figured with all of the confusion on his side, he had a good shot at getting away.  He was told countless times this would be a suicide mission or he would end up in an American prison.  He did not believe this to be the case.  He decided if anyone could pull this off and get away, he could.  Flynn had an almost arrogant confidence in himself.  The city began to slowly awaken from the darkness as he continued to walk along Fifth Avenue.  Flynn had walked up and down the Avenue for almost an hour and a half, studying it's every building and intersection.

Flynn stopped in front of Saint Patrick's Cathedral on Fiftieth Street.  He walked up the stairs leading to the Cathedral's entrance.  He had heard of the Cathedral and even seen it in pictures, but he had never seen it in person until now. 
It could possibly be the most famous Catholic cathedral in the world outside of the Vatican,
he thought.  It took up an entire city block.  He took in the elegance of its architecture from the outside while slowly ascending the stairs.  The two steeples in front were breathtaking probably over three hundred feet tall.  It looked as it had been sculpted from marble rather than built.  The rising sun caught one of the stained glass windows just right causing a myriad of colors to be reflected on the ground ahead of him.  The church, although well over a century old, was in pristine condition.

When Flynn entered the Cathedral, he dipped his right hand into the holy water and blessed himself as he had done so many times in his life when entering a church.  He was overwhelmed with the size of St. Patrick's.  Dozens of brilliant chandeliers hung down from high above.  There were too many stained glass windows for him to count; each a work of art.  It was much larger than any church he had ever seen in Ireland.  It could easily hold a couple of thousand people.  Flynn genuflected as he took a seat in the last pew in the church.  He sat quietly thinking to himself and watching as the priest conducted seven a.m. mass from in front of the exquisite white alter.  Flynn remained in the church well after the mass ended.  He thought long and hard.  He figured this to be the most dangerous place of any to carry out the hit.  It would also send the loudest message. 
A murder for the cause, directly in front of St. Patrick’s Cathedral, a location known and recognized throughout the world
. 
Yes
.  It was decided.

Flynn exited the church at the Fifth Avenue exit.  The first thing that caught his eye was the statue across the street.  A partially clothed man holding what appeared to be a globe over his head.  Atlas, if he remembered his Greek mythology correct.  He stood on the top of the steps looking down onto the street.  There were many more cars and pedestrians now than when he went inside.  The crowd would be good for him.  He could get lost in a crowd.  He stared at the spot he knew would immortalize him in the ranks of the I.R.A.  His name would one day be as well known as James Connolly or Michael Collins, he assured himself. 
Maybe even Atlas
, he laughed to himself.