Chapters (82)
- Title Page
- Copyright Notice
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- ONE
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- FIVE
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- EIGHT
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- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
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- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
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- FORTY
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- FIFTY
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- FIFTY-THREE
- FIFTY-FOUR
- FIFTY-FIVE
- FIFTY-SIX
- FIFTY-SEVEN
- FIFTY-EIGHT
- FIFTY-NINE
- SIXTY
- SIXTY-ONE
- SIXTY-TWO
- SIXTY-THREE
- SIXTY-FOUR
- SIXTY-FIVE
- SIXTY-SIX
- SIXTY-SEVEN
- SIXTY-EIGHT
- SIXTY-NINE
- SEVENTY
- SEVENTY-ONE
- SEVENTY-TWO
- SEVENTY-THREE
- SEVENTY-FOUR
- SEVENTY-FIVE
- SEVENTY-SIX
- Praise for Blood in the Water
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
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“Not if I can help it,” Steele agreed. “But you never know.” She stood up. To the east, in the distance, she could see a plane headed toward them. It was huge; probably a 747, with two levels and six hundred passengers. It was sweeping in low and looked like it could crash into them. She looked to the west and saw one of Logan International Airport’s runways just a few hundred yards across the marshes. Beyond that, the narrowest part of Boston Harbor separated East Boston from South Boston and the downtown skyscrapers. The federal courthouse was just visible across the harbor, its rounded glass facade reaching to the sky, reflecting the winter sun, low to the south. It was amazing to contemplate how closely everything was packed around what was a very narrow harbor.
As the 747 drew closer and lower, the noise from the engines became deafening. She looked up, and it felt as though she could reach up and touch it. It reminded her of the one trip that she took with Ollie before he was killed. She and Dillon had surprised him with a trip to Disney World in Florida. It was a discount package that they could barely afford, but it had been worth it. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him as excited as he was when he first saw Mickey Mouse in person.
“You all right?” she heard Agent Martin ask.
She realized that her eyes were closed. She opened them, and she could see the 747 land safely. The squeal of the brakes was off in the distance.
Agent Martin’s radio bleated. He took it off his belt and stepped away, talking low into it. She looked down at the blood sprayed on the snow and wondered what she had gotten herself into.
“It’s a war,” Martin said.
She looked at him, still slowly coming back to reality. “What?”
“They just found one of O’Connell’s men slumped over in a car in the South End. His throat was slit ear to ear.”
“MS-13,” Steele said quietly.
“They’re good with their knives.”
Martin was right, she knew. It was a war. And it wouldn’t end until one side won and the other side lost. If MS-13 and the Carpios won, the impact would be greater than she could even contemplate. It would increase the odds that Vincente Carpio would eventually make his way out of prison. If not in the immediate future, then maybe down the line, when other monsters and other mass killings had taken over the headlines, and no one could even remember who Vincente Carpio was.
But Steele would never forget him, and she would never allow that to happen. “Thanks,” she said to Martin. “This is probably gonna get ugly. Any information you’ve got, it’d be helpful,” she said.
He nodded. “As long as it goes both ways.”
“It goes both ways,” she lied. “You have my word on it.”