At Sword's Point by Katherine Kurtz, Scott MacMillan Read Free Book Online Page B

Desert Eagle crashed into the tin wastebasket, Meier pushed himself up off the desk and made a grab for the policeman's shotgun.
    "You fuckin' sonofabitch—"
    Meier's outburst was cut short by the sound of the butt of a shotgun being cracked against the back of his skull. Knees buckling but hands still grabbing at the weapon's barrel, Meier sagged at the feet of the officer he had tried to attack. A knee in dark blue serge snapped up, catching the Israeli on the point of his chin and splitting his lip as it snapped his head back.
    Reeling under the impact, Meier slowly crumpled facedown on the floor of the office. Trostler had not moved, with the second shotgun still jammed against his kidneys. Stepping from behind his desk, Drummond bent down and snapped a set of handcuffs on Meier. As one of the officers handed him a second pair, Drummond turned to Trostler and smiled.
    "Assume the position, Mose."
    Meier was stirring as Drummond cuffed Trostler, Very quickly, the two uniformed officers had the two prisoners on their feet. As they led the two Israelis out of his office, Drummond followed far enough after them to signal Alicia, who was returning to the outer office with the other secretaries.
    "Alicia, get someone from Special Investigations up here right away, would you?" he said as she came wide-eyed back to her desk. "And while you're at it," he added, almost as an afterthought, "I suppose you'd better call Internal Affairs."
    Returning to his office, he sat down on the corner of his desk and picked up the phone, feeling his adrenalin rush start to recede as he tapped in the extension of his supervisor.
    "DeGrazzio here."
    The voice was deceptively youthful. Commander Joey DeGrazzio had done two tours of 'Nam as an MP before joining the LAPD in 1965, and despite his initial lack of a college degree had moved up through the ranks to become one of the best homicide investigators in the LAPD. He was now finishing a master's degree in sociology. An outspoken critic of Los Angeles Mayor Tom Bradley, his appointment to deputy chief seemed to be on permanent hold.
    "Joey, this is John," Drummond said. "I've just had some big trouble down here. I'd appreciate it if you could come right down."
    "IAD?" DeGrazzio asked.
    "Yeah, but I've asked 'em in," Drummond replied. "Special Investigations, too. I think I may just have caused an international incident."
    "Okay, John. Be right down."
    The line went dead, and Drummond replaced the receiver. The phone was hardly in its cradle when it buzzed softly.
    It was Alicia, Drummond's secretary.
    "The Special Investigations officer" is here, and Internal Affairs will be down in about ten minutes," she said. "Shall I call Commander DeGrazzio?"
    "No, thanks. I've already called him."
    Drummond replaced the phone just as the Special Investigations officer came in.
    "You Drummond?" he asked.
    "Yeah. And you… ?"
    "Oh, I'm Pete Knickerbocker, Special investigations." He extended his arm and shook hands with Drummond. "You pop the two Israeli 'diplomats'?"
    "'Fraid so," Drummond said.
    "Well, then, you're gonna be in a world of shit for the next coupla weeks, pal. I've been working the embassies for three years now, and next to Sierra Leone, the Israelis squeak the loudest when you bust one of their people." He grinned at Drummond. "So, whatcha got?"
    "This." Drummond reached down and lifted up his trash can, placing it on the desk in front of Knickerbocker. Taking a pencil, he reached in and hooked one of the guns by the trigger guard and lifted it out.
    "Well, well, well. Desert Eagle .357 Magnum. You don't get those with your ordinary diplomatic passport," Knickerbocker said. "You bust them for packing in a public building?"
    "Yup," Drummond said. "That and a whole cartload of attitude."
    Knickerbocker winced. "Nobody got roughed up did they?"
    "Sorry, Pete, but one of them got a little out of hand, and security knocked him down with the butt of his shotgun." Drummond smiled