coming unless somebody thought we should have paid at the gate,” Schwarz said. “The noise down here was probably nothing like gunfire to the folks upstairs.” They could still hear the music and cheering of the game above.
“You saved my life,” Lyons said.
“Pol’s, too,” Schwarz said. “I keep reminding him.”
“Help me up,” Lyons said.
His teammates helped the big blond cop get to his feet.
“How do you feel?” Schwarz asked.
“I just got the shit beaten out of me by a giant Cossack,” Lyons said. “How do you think I feel?”
“Well, you’re alive enough to be grumpy,” Schwarz said, helping him down the corridor as Blancanales covered them both. “I imagine you’ll live.”
“Shut up, Gadgets.”
“It looks like he mostly pounded on your skull,” Schwarz went on. “That should mean you’ll be fine in just a little while.”
“Shut up, Gadgets.”
They continued bickering as they made their way back to the Chinook. Grimaldi wasted no time asking questions. He simply put the heavy helicopter back into the air. “We’ve got our next target,” he reported. “The Farm says Warlock has pinpointed another set of signals in Albany, New York. That’s where we’re headed.”
“All right.” Lyons nodded wearily.
Blancanales retrieved the chopper’s well-equipped first-aid kit and went to work. He started probing at Lyons’s chest. The big cop breathed in heavily but refused to give in to the pain any more than that.
“I don’t think your ribs are broken,” Blancanales said finally. “Although I couldn’t say why not, from what Gadgets says happened. All I remember is a sensation of flying, and then the wall and I got to know each other.”
“He wasn’t the most fun person you’ll ever meet,” Lyons said.
The chopper was headed east. Lyons could tell from the position of the sun. They spoke over the noise of the chopper as Grimaldi flew them. Lyons hoped there would be enough time. Whoever was in position in Albany, Karbuly Ghemenizov wouldn’t be there…but there was no point in searching the city of Syracuse for him. He wouldn’t be staying there, unless it was to plant more bombs, and if he did so, the Warlock network would find him.
Lyons hoped so.
“You’re looking pretty grim, Carl,” Schwarz said, less teasing now. “You all right?”
“I don’t like getting my ass kicked.”
“Did you see that guy?” Schwarz asked. “He could beat up a marching band and have energy left over for the color guard.”
“That has to be the strangest comparison I’ve ever heard.”
“Quiet,” Schwarz said. “Your brain is scrambled and you’re not in my right mind.”
“Gadgets?”
“Yes, Carl?”
“Shut up.”
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