The Vagary Tales
Page 8
He turned again to see where she was headed and was astounded to see her aiming her Browning at the window in front of her.
She fired off three shots, the Browning thundering in the confines of the empty office. He could still hear pursuit behind him, could feel the heat of trained assassins aiming their weapons at the back of his head. He went into a sudden roll. His tie flew out beside his ear, his jacket flapped crazily around him. A shower of wood fragments in front of him told him he had reacted just in time.
When he looked back at Hallie, she was motioning him and yelling something. He realized he couldn’t hear anything. Everything seemed to slow. He tried to stand again, but the effort seemed impossible. He didn’t dare look back again.
He had lost the MP5 in the roll but he didn’t care. He ran as fast as he could. He couldn’t tell if he was on a carpet or in sand. Hallie was frantic. She fired two shots over his shoulder. He dimly was aware of a shout behind him. Then, Hallie was grabbing his arm and shouting.
“JUMP Jake!”
He looked at her dumbly, the wind whipping his jacket as he stood on the broken glass from the shattered window, Hallie grabbing his elbow so hard that he could almost feel himself wake from this dream.
“JUMP Monday! Now! Trust me!”
That was the problem. Maybe he didn’t trust himself. Too much had happened too fast. But as crazy as it sounded, there was something about her eyes. There was something about the taste of lemon and espresso on his lips.
And he jumped. He felt as if he had jumped up instead of out. It was an absolutely beautiful feeling. He was free. His tie slapped his right cheek as he descended. He felt his jacket rip. He had jumped out of a south-facing window. He looked down at an improbable large expanse of grass about two hundred yards across the bay. Directly below him was concrete and vehicles, small but getting bigger every second.
The ground came so fast. Faster than he expected. Faster than he wanted.
Then he was climbing. He felt a pressure around his waist, an arm hooked about him. He felt Hallie squeeze him. She yelled in his ear. He could hear the strain in her voice.
“Believe me when I say ‘jump!’”
They spun slowly, the river coming closer. Bullets sought them out, gray trails of smoke signaling their deadly path. The nylon cloth of the ram-air chute fluttered gently as they began their descent. He wondered if it would hold both of them.
Hallie struggled to steer and hold him at the same time. Jake turned enough to grab a cross-brace. He felt Hallie panic as they steered quickly in that direction, the Hudson a green-brown gulf below them. He reached around the his right side and grabbed the other cross-brace, his arms outstretched behind him, Hallie’s weight against his back to take the stress off her arm.
Hallie corrected their path and they picked up pace as they sailed back out toward Ellis Island. Boats dotted the river. Then Jake saw a green light signal from a large white yacht just ahead of them.
“We’re almost home, Monday. Just hold on, tuck and roll.” He didn’t argue.
Hallie aimed left of the yacht and swung wide, coming up behind it slowly. Jake could see a contingent of men and women along the fore deck, dark glasses and Kevlar vests even in the sweltering sun. They touched down and two men dove for them, releasing a padded tarp just ahead of their landing.
Despite the padding, Jake smashed his forearm as he landed further ripping his jacket. He had released the cross braces just before landing and he could see Hallie float just above him, her bare feet slapping the deck and the chute gathering about her. Several agents hustled to her side, grabbing the fabric before a wind whipped across the river and ripped her back across the bow.
Jake stood. His arm was fractured, but otherwise he was completely healthy. He was surprised to see three agents with their firearms trained at his chest.
“Nice to meet you, gents.” He tried his most disarming smile.
“He’s with us. Put your weapons down!” Hallie limped over to his side.
“You alright?”
“I chipped a nail, but yeah.” She was flushed, her hair wind-blown, her cheeks red from exertion. The pits of her red silk blouse were stained with sweat, her heirloom necklace was flipped backwards on her neck and a playful smile played across her face.
“Here I thought you chewed your nails.”
“Only since I met you.”
Jake took it all in. He was alive and even through the haze of the last half hour he had a clarity he hadn’t felt in a long time.
“A family, huh?”
“Yep. You. Me. Macy,” she smiled, but her eyes were sad. She was disappointed. He wanted to hold her. He needed to remember where he came from.
“It’s all coming back to me now,” he said.
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