They go down a hall to the base of operations, which is in some kind of teaching area. More officers in various groupings around the room, drinking coffee and hanging tough. A planning table in the center of the room is strewn with maps and paperwork—the men around it part to allow Cooper access. Emma and Bell find a place nearer the wall.

The room is too warm and smells strongly of carpet cleaner and gun oil. Emma is not the only female in the room: A female junior officer is setting up coffee mugs on a table at the rear. Emma is, however, the only one dressed like a teenage girl, in blue jeans and a pale pink T-shirt. Of all the days to wear pink. The weight of many pairs of male eyes skimming over her makes her feel heavy. She hasn’t brought her scarf. She stands awkwardly beside Bell, not wanting to touch her head, avoiding drawing attention to herself.

Cooper is in discussion with a short, barrel-chested man in black combat gear, other men pointing to areas on the big location map. Before the buzz of talk gets too loud, Cooper shucks his jacket and glances around.

“It’s real hot in here. Officer, can we get the air-conditioning turned up a little? Thank you.” He looks over to Emma and Bell. “Do you want to hear this?”

Cooper waves them closer, indicates a place to stand, near but a little behind him. Now the eyes are assessing them by a different scale. She arrived with Cooper; she has a soldier’s haircut. These people are paramilitary—they know what a buzz cut means. Bell is standing feet planted, arms crossed, dressed in black; he already looks half Marshal.

She’s aware that Cooper has included them in order to make a point. He understands politics, and she knows he was once military. She sees it in him now: this team-building, the gathering of assets, the focus and clipped professionalism.

He indicates areas on the map. “This apartment block here is the location, yes? Lieutenant Paziewski, this is a little confusing with the road names.”

“Yeah, you got Woodburn Road proper, then this whole stretch is also Woodburn Road.” Paziewski is tall, thick-necked, big hands on his duty belt. He indicates an upside-down U shape on the map. “Suggest we call Woodburn One, Woodburn Two, Woodburn Three, for clarity on comms.”

“Agreed,” Cooper says.

“Woodburn Two is the focus.” Paziewski pokes a spot on the right side of the U. “It’s low, semi-connected apartment buildings. Sidewalk through to the hospital grounds here. Lots of foliage cover, shrubs and tree trunks all over.”

Cooper points. “Here’s the target building. We’ve got Agent Martino in a surveillance van here—that’s our command post. SWAT has a second van here. What did the drive-by show?”

“Not much action yet, but the nursing shift change is due about now, so you’ll have pedestrians soon.”

“Mail area is in the front foyer. But you can enter from the back of the building, yes? Sergeant, what are our options with that?”