She pivoted to try and free herself, but the man’s grip was unrelenting. Maggie kicked for his groin, but Aleksandar was ready for it and leaned away from the strike.
The back of his hand smacked against her jaw and sent her head spinning from the impact. He was strong. Much stronger than Maggie.
A fist caught her in the same spot, sending a second surge of pain to jolt through her jaw and rattle her teeth. Maggie bit her tongue and her mouth filled with a bitter copper tang.
One of the fallen guards was talking into his radio, calling for help. Maggie had no time to stop him, forced to counter a third attack from Aleksandar.
He aimed a brutal kick towards Maggie’s stomach and surge of maternal fear pulsed through her. She flung out her arm just in time with a block that hurt just as much as taking the hit.
Acute stabs of pain rang up her arm, causing her to drop her weapon, but the blow missed its target.
Maggie stepped back and eyed her enemy.
Aleksandar never spoke. No jibes, or pompous smack talk. No gloating.
He was all business, and he was winning.
Maggie couldn’t allow that. It wasn’t just her life at risk.
Her head ached and, from the throbbing in her gums, she was certain she was going to need some dental work. Spitting out a mouthful of blood, Maggie centered herself and concentrated on the movements of the Russian.
Aleksandar thrust forward with a sickening blow. His fist connected yet again, the right hook sending Maggie reeling to the floor before she even realized the attack was coming. Adrenaline coursed through her, clogging her mind and leaving her gasping for air as the shock of the punch subsided and the pain registered.
Her eyes watered, Aleksandar a blurred specter as he loomed over her like a towering skyscraper, ready to finish her off with one final hit.
A high-pitched cry came from behind them and Maggie gasped as little Emily charged the Russian. She swung the dropped baton like a baseball bat and smashed it with all her might against the back of Aleksandar’s head.
Aleksandar swayed and placed a hand over the strike point, only for it to come back slick with blood. His faced hardened and knuckles cracked in his tight fists.
Maggie gaped at the head of security, amazed he was still standing.
“Maggie,” Emily cried, tossing the baton her way.
“Bitch,” Aleksandar swore. He turned towards Emily and sent a meaty right hook towards her.
Getting to her feet, Maggie moved, sidestepping up and over the seats and back down again so she was between the Russian and Emily. Aleksandar aimed another punch towards her, but where he had sheer strength, Maggie had speed.
The blow to the head made him sluggish. Maggie leaned back and felt a swoosh of air as Aleksandar’s fist missed her.
But she didn’t miss.
With one last assault, Maggie brought the baton upon Aleksandar with vicious finality. Aiming for the same spot Emily had softened, the baton connected with the man’s head and brought with it the sweet sound of Aleksandar collapsing to the ground with a thump.
“Are you okay?” Emily asked, running to Maggie.
“You shouldn’t have stepped in,” she chided.
“I got him good though,” replied Emily with a sheepish smile.
That she had.
Maggie laughed as she slumped down onto a seat and wiped the sweat from her brow. It was a close one, and her head spun from the dizzying blows sustained. “I don’t know much about baseball, but I’d say that was a home run.”
The train began to slow again, reaching its next stop. Maggie winced as she got up, using the handrail to keep her steady. One of the goons was still muttering into his radio on the floor, and Maggie volleyed him in the face.
Staying on the train was out of the question now. It was time for plan B.
Chapter 9
Maggie battled the impulse to barge through the crowd. To push and shove anyone in their way. Each step felt like sluggish and delayed, the brisk pace of New Yorkers too slow for her as she and Emily travelled through the station and out into West 72nd Street. Blending in was the best option. Running would get them noticed, and there was no telling where the rest of Aleksandar’s men were.
It didn’t take long for them to find out.
Brakes shrieked. Doors slammed.
Maggie snapped her head towards the sounds as one of the SUVs in Aleksandar’s fleet pulled up from Central Park West and his men spilled from each side.
“Shit,” Maggie hissed. “Run!”
Grabbing Emily, she high tailed it down the street in the opposite direction towards Columbus Avenue.
“They must have called in our location,” said Maggie, scanning the area for an escape route.
The Russian’s followed them on foot, the driver of the SUV blaring the horn at the traffic blocking its way.
Maggie cursed the lack of alleyways, each of the buildings joined to the next, but she and Emily sprinted on. They approached the intersection with Columbus Avenue but something was wrong.
Her ears twitched and Maggie dug her heels into the ground, yanking Emily back just in time. A second SUV hurtled towards them from around the corner of the street. It bumped up and over the sidewalk and crashed right where they stood a split second before, blocking their path.
Maggie spun on her heels and dragged Emily back the way they came as more Russian’s rushed from the second vehicle to join the pursuit.
They were cornered from both ends.
“What are we going to do?” Emily cried, digging her nails into Maggie’s hand. They were trapped.
The hum of an engine purred, growing louder as it approached. A motorbike. It wasn’t anything special, an old Honda decked out with decals for a local pizza joint, but it might just be enough.
Maggie made a silent apology to the delivery driver. Waiting until the last moment, she stepped out into the road and threw out her arm.
It caught the delivery guy’s neck in a clothesline and he flew from the seat. The bike skidded along the road with bright sparks as metal met asphalt.
The girls ran towards it. Hoisting the bike up, Maggie swung her leg over the seat and revved the engine. Emily wrapped her arms around Maggie’s waist, hopping on behind her without having to be told.
A bang ricocheted off the stone walls of the surrounding buildings as one of the Russian’s fired a warning shot into the air. Pedestrians dispersed like a flock of scared sheep, and Maggie didn’t stay around for the next bullet either.
Taking off, she hit the road full throttle, and sped down the street towards the second SUV. The driver spotted her and reversed off the sidewalk and back into the road. Maggie dodged the approach, leaning into the turn and missing the back bumper of the car with mere inches to spare.
The car pulled into drive and gave chase, the Russian’s on foot jumping back inside. The other SUV met them, too, crashing into yellow taxis and sleek private cars to clear their path.
Cars honked in anger, but Maggie didn’t look back. She leaned down into the bike and picked up the pace.
Columbus Avenue was a wide street with four lanes and ample room for the SUVs to bully their way through the traffic. Car brakes skidded behind them with a symphony of horns, the deep rumbling engines of the SUVs unrelenting and getting closer.
“Maggie,” Emily warned, as one of the two vehicles came up from behind.
It bumped the back of the bike.
Emily squealed, tightening her grip on Maggie as she tried to steady the bike. The SUV bumped them again and jolted them forward. The rear fender cracked and a piece fell off to be crushed under the wheels of the SUV.
Checking her mirrors, Maggie swerved into the next lane and hit the brakes, slowing down to leave a gap between them and their hunters.
The second SUV saw what she was doing. They came into view from the rear, overtaking a cab on the lane to Maggie’s right and forcing the car in front of them to speed up or be hit.
Three sec
onds later and the Russian’s were in line with the bike. Maggie risked a sideward glance and caught the driver spinning the wheel to the left.
The SUV crossed from its lane into Maggie’s with a vicious screech. Maggie moved, inching as close to the opposite lane as she dared and dodged a collision that would have sent her and Emily off the bike.
Two could play at that game.
Maggie kept pace with the SUV and reached for her baton. Keeping the motorbike steady with one hand and flipping the baton out with the other, Maggie aimed and shattered the driver’s window. The glass crashed out over them, cutting Maggie’s cheek, but she didn’t care.
The baton did its job and connected with the driver, hitting him with enough force to distract him from the road. By the time he noticed the parked garbage truck, it was too late. The SUV ran straight into the back of it in an explosion of shattered windows and burst trash bags.
A wicked grin spread across Maggie’s face. One down.
They approached an intersection as the lights switched from green to red, and the surrounding cars slowed to stop. All but Maggie.
“Hold on tight,” Maggie warned Emily, “and lean with the turn.”
Clenching her jaw, Maggie picked up speed and weaved through the slowing vehicles. Traffic from West 68th Street drove through the intersection in one way traffic.
There was no right turn, but that didn’t stop Maggie.
Turning into the oncoming traffic, Maggie maneuvered the bike, swerving past a truck that almost collided right into them, and headed down the street amid the approaching cars.
The surviving SUV tried to follow but as it turned to tail them, the van Maggie dodged smashed straight into the Russian’s, hitting the SUV side on and sending the car flipping onto its side and over onto its back.
Emily whooped and cheered, her braids whipping behind her in the wind. “You really are Jane Bond.”
Maggie kept on going. They may have lost the Russians for now, but one of the SUVs was still out there, and it was a long way to the British Consulate.
Chapter 10
Too long.
Travelling across town was out of the question. By now the Russian’s would have called for backup and sent them out to swarm the city streets.
While Maggie preferred to work alone, she knew when things were tight. Getting Emily to the consulate alone was too much of a risk to take and, as much as her ego hated to admit it, she needed help.
Snaking through the streets, taking alleyways when she could, Maggie headed for Ashton’s apartment on West 59th Street. Stopping around the corner on 10th Avenue, they ditched the bike and left it parked behind a dumpster.
“What are you doing?” Maggie asked.
Emily fiddled with the notch on the container attached to the back of the bike and opened the lid. “There’s pizza in here. You don’t just leave perfectly good New York pizza to go to waste.”
With two pizza boxes in hand, Maggie led Emily down the street and into the apartment building. As far as she could tell, no one spotted them. Right now, Aleksandar’s crew would be scattered around the city, watching and waiting for them to turn up. Right now, they needed to lay low.
“Nice place,” said Emily once inside. She slumped down onto the couch and sniffed the pizza boxes. “Mind if I watch some TV?”
“Sure,” said Maggie, checking through the peephole in the front door. Her muscles were stiff, the impact from her fight with Aleksandar settling in now they weren’t racing through the city for dear life.
After some digging, Maggie found pain killers in the bathroom and washed off the blood from her face. Her reflection was paler than usual, and her hand tremored. It took a moment for her to register the odd feeling. Fear.
Maggie would be lying if she said she didn’t get a thrill from her work. An adrenaline fueled high that coursed through her in the heat of the moment. When all she could focus on was staying alive and taking down whatever adversary stood in her way. Yes, fear was a familiar companion, but it was exhilarating. This new fear was different.
Then again, this was like no other mission she’d been on. Raising her t-shirt, she stood to the side and appraised her tummy. A few more weeks and she’d be showing signs. Nothing in her life would be the same now, and whether she was ready for it or not, change was coming.
Ashton kept a first aid kit in his bedroom and Maggie dug it out from the fitted wardrobes. Her phone lay on the bedside table and she called in.
“Maggie,” Danielle Hawkins answered. “What’s your status.”
So much for hello.
“I have the witness. We’re safe for now, but the situation is too volatile to reach you.”
“Then we’ll come to you. What’s your location?”
Maggie gave Ashton’s address.
“It might take me a while to get a detail together. Stay inside until we get there.”
Maggie bristled. Regardless of what Danielle seemed to think, this wasn’t her first time out in the field. The whole reason she was even involved was because Danielle and the rest of Jonathan Cole’s team couldn’t access the Russian Consulate. Maggie would like to see Danielle try and pull something like that off.
Hanging up without a goodbye, Maggie pocketed her phone and returned to Emily with the first aid kit.
“Who were you talking to?” Emily asked, chewing with her mouth open.
“Help,” said Maggie. “We just need to sit and wait here for a while until they come for us.”
Emily’s shoulders relaxed. “Then I can see my parents?”
“I expect they’ll be desperate to see you.” Maggie knelt by the couch and opened the kit. “Let me take a look at those knees.”
Emily complied, taking another bite of her slice of pepperoni and cheese while she flicked the TV channels to some cartoons. The abrasions were nothing to be concerned about, but they still needed cleaning. Dirt and small bits of rubble were stuck to the skin from her fall.
“This might sting a little,” Maggie said, uncapping an antibacterial spray. She covered the wound with it and wiped the dirt off with a clean cloth.
Emily hissed, but she didn’t complain or jerk away. Maggie smiled, liking the girl more and more. Not many kids Emily’s age could go through what she had and still be able to put on a brave face.
“That was quite the swing back there,” noted Maggie, moving on to the next knee.
Emily gave a sheepish grin. “I’m in the little league team.”
“I’m not surprised with a shot like that.” Had it not been for Emily’s attack, things could have gone very differently for them down in the subway. “You’re very brave, Emily.”
Emily ducked her head. “I don’t feel brave.”
Maggie titled Emily’s chin with her hand and met her eyes. “But you are.”
“I ran away,” she whispered.
“When?” Maggie asked, getting up and sitting next to Emily on the couch.
“When the man was attacked.”
“What man?” Maggie probed. Until now, she wasn’t given the name of the dead UN official.
Emily shrugged. “I don’t know. He was at the party. I needed the bathroom, and the one downstairs was being used, so I went to the one upstairs. Only it’s a big house and I got lost. I went into the wrong room and that’s when I saw it.”
Maggie leaned forward. “What did you see?”
Emily’s bottom lip shook. “They stuck a needle into the man’s neck and he started shaking. Then he just stopped.”
A needle. Danielle had said the means of the assassination would be undetectable, which was why Emily was key to it all. Without her, the official’s death could be passed off as a heart attack, or something to that effect. A shot of an untraceable substance into the bloodstream could induce cardiac arrest. It wouldn’t be the first-time Maggie had come across the likes of it.
The Russian’s had covered their tracks. Until Emily.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” Maggie wrapped her
arm over Emily’s small shoulders. “Did you get a look at the attacker’s face?”
Emily nodded. “I ran before they could get me, but the man with the ponytail grabbed me when I got to the bottom of the stairs, and the next thing I knew, I woke up in the building with the Russian guys.”
Aleksandar. He had been the one to take Emily away. Maggie was especially glad the little girl got the swing on the Russian.
“Like I said, brave. And you’re going to have to keep being brave.” Emily was tough, and it would do her well for what lay ahead. Having to testify against a foreign government was the last thing a child should have to go through. Considering the magnitude of the crimes committed, Emily wouldn’t be safe for a long time. At least not until she testified. Relations between Russia and the West were strained, and the Russian’s had already tried to remove Emily from the picture.
“I’m scared,” Emily whispered, her deep brown eyes glossed with tears.
Maggie gave her a squeeze and rubbed her arm. “That’s okay. Being scared is part of being brave. What matters is that you keep going anyway, even if things seem bad. You’re a fighter, and what do fighters do?”
Emily looked up at her. “Fight?”
“That’s right.” Maggie bumped her fist with Emily’s. “We fight, and we keep on fighting.”
Emily nodded, setting a determined jaw like she had done back inside the Russian Consulate. “I can do that.”
“Good,” said Maggie, closing the first aid kit and sinking into the sofa with Emily. “Now budge up and quit hogging the pizza.”
Emily regarded Maggie with an arched eyebrow. “You’re out of your mind.”
They’d been in the apartment for half an hour, and were tucking in to some lukewarm pizza. Maggie’s stomach rumbled in pleasure, having been neglected since the night before. She’d never been able to eat much prior to an assignment, especially one as important as today’s.
“I’m telling you,” Maggie replied, goading Emily, “I think Chicago’s got the upper hand with the deep dish.”
Not that it stopped her from delving into her third slice. It was greasy, laden with cheese and pepperoni, and the perfect comfort food after an afternoon of running for your life.
The Witness Page 6
