From Manhattan with Love: A Novella (The Fifth Avenue Series)

by Christopher Smith

  Another gunshot cracked, this time not far in front of him. He ran to it while people openly started to weep at the sound of it. Everything appeared to be happening in slow motion.

  The lights started to flicker and for an instant, he saw her face. It was the most welcomed sight he’d ever seen. He did love her. She was pointing above the crowd toward the corridor, where people were moving more freely now. They could escape through the side exit, which would lead to the front of the building, but the moment he reached Carmen, she stopped him.

  “The Grille Room,” she said. “We take those stairs and exit on the side of the building. Not the front. The side. Hurry!”

  He grabbed her wrist and steamrolled forward with her. Together, they trampled people in an effort to get to the stairs, down over them to the foyer below and then to the exit.

  Other people were rushing alongside them. Outside, the night was alive with the sound of sirens.

  Carmen and Alex joined the flood of those leaving this hell they created and as they did, the lights behind them spit at their backs, almost as if they were aware of their escape and cursing the injustice of it.

  EPILOGUE

  ONE MONTH LATER

  Save for the black bikini bottom she wore, Carmen Gragera walked naked onto the dock of her round Bora Bora hut, which stretched deep into the Pacific ocean, and looked down at the impossibly clear blue water before she dived into it. Below her, she could see a wave of fish scatter in her wake and it occurred to her again that if this wasn’t paradise, she’d never see it in her lifetime.

  She heard another splash come behind her and popped to the surface just as Alex did. They smiled at each other, circled each other and eventually swam toward one another. After spending four weeks with him here, if this wasn’t love she was feeling, she wasn’t sure what it was.

  “What are we having for dinner?” he asked.

  “Whatever you poke with your spear.”

  “So, it might be you on the menu?”

  “You’re hilarious.”

  “Whatever keeps you happy.”

  “Did you get the goggles?”

  “I put them on the edge of the dock.”

  “Want to explore?”

  He swam over, snatched the goggles and tossed one of them to her. They put them on. “Think we’ll see sharks again. It’s been days.”

  “You never know.” She spit a jet of water at him. “But in case we do see them, just know I’m getting out of the water this time. You won’t trick me into hiding behind some reef like you did last time. They came too close. They freak me out.”

  “They’re just black-tipped reef sharks. They have zero interest in us. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

  “That would be you. In the bedroom. And believe me, it’s more than enough.”

  They dived beneath the surface, which now looked pristine to Carmen with the goggles in place. Scores of black fish she wished she knew the names of were swimming in schools along with brightly colored yellow fish, sea turtles, iridescent blue fish with happy yellow tails, the occasional manta ray, a few massive bat rays and, near the bottom, the choral reef that sustained so many of them. She looked up and on the other side of the hut, and saw a gathering of other fish lingering along the bottom of her speed boat.

  She fanned out her arms, lifted herself to the surface to take a breath and then dived down again. Apparently, their presence was now known, because within seconds, each was surrounded by dozens of curious yellow- and black-striped fish, which were their favorites because they were gentle, beautiful, curious and fearless.

  Carmen looked across at Alex, who was floating among them, turning in circles while they followed his rhythms. She was about to do the same when what looked like a harpoon shot into the water and came within inches of cutting through him.

  He was so distracted by the fish while he flipped over and over that he didn’t see or hear it. And so she quickly kicked over to him just as another harpoon sliced through the water.

  This time he saw and heard it; it carved between them and speared one of the turtles. Blood entered the water, which would call other beasts neither wanted to deal with.

  Already she was running out of air and was certain he was as well. She pointed beneath the hut, they dived down as far as they could, but in the whirl of bubbles they left in their wake, the gig was up. Dozens of harpoons started to pierce the water. One cut clean through her hair, severing a lock of it. Alex came beside her, put his arm around her and together, they kicked furiously until they were in the large pocket of air beneath the hut.

  “They’ve found us,” he said.

  “How? Nobody know I live here.”

  “Somebody knows.”

  “That impossible.”

  “Obviously not.” He looked up. “Grab onto one of those beams and pull yourself up. They’re shooting harpoons. One of them could get lodged into our legs.”

  They each scrambled up.

  “I’ve heard no boat,” Carmen said. “You know that’s the only way to get out here. Otherwise, we’re isolated.”

  “They could be scuba diving.”

  She shook her head. “The harpoons came from above. They drove down into the water, not horizontally. They must be shooting at us from the shoreline. We need to get to the other side of the hut and into my boat.” She reached down and dipped her head into the water. “You’ve got your sharks,” she said. “The turtle brought them out. Right below us, they’re tearing it apart.”

  Another harpoon was released and this time it was clear that it was shot from the shore. But instead of going into the water, the harpoon went straight through the house, smashing glass and sailing through open windows before it splashed into the water on the other side of it.

  “They’ve seen my boat,” she said. “That harpoon went through the hut. How are we going to get out of here?”

  “We shield ourselves with the boat. We take it off its moorings and paddle out as far as we can until we can get inside it and get the hell out of here.”

  “You’re telling me that we get in the water with those sharks? I need you to slip your goggles down and have a look into the water. Then tell me what we do.”

  He stared at her for a moment, then he lowered the goggles and dipped his head into the water. When he emerged, his mouth was set. “There must be a hundred of them down there.”

  “I’m assuming the turtle’s gone.”

  “The blood isn’t.”

  “Actually, that could work in our favor. If they see blood rise to the surface, they might think one of us was hit. Maybe dead.”

  Another harpoon shot through the hut, shattering more glass.

  “We’ve got to get to the boat,” he said. “It’s our only chance.”

  “They’ll run out of harpoons,” she said. “We could wait them out until nightfall.”

  “Carmen, it’s morning. They’ll find a way to get out here. We don’t know if they have guns or rifles. They came here to kill us, not frighten us. We can’t stay here.”

  “I can’t believe they’re doing this,” she said. “We warned them that if they came near us, we’d treat them exactly as we treated Laurent.”

  “What if it’s someone else? Someone you’ve crossed in the past?”

  “It could be. I don’t know. None of this makes sense. You know how careful I am. I don’t understand how anyone knows I have a place here.”

  “It doesn’t matter now,” he said. “We get to the boat, you slip on the other side of it, I remove it from its moorings and then, once I’m with you, we paddle it out as far as we can. Then, when their harpoons can’t touch us, we get inside, crank the engine and gun it out of here.”

  She knew they had no choice. “What’s the shark situation?”

  He lowered his head into the water and came up quickly, spitting out a mouthful of water. “It’s worse. Now we’ve got hammerheads.”

  “I’m going to be sick.”

  “Let’s move. Get on the o
ther side of the boat.”

  Above them, a harpoon sounded its warning by sinking into the deck.

  Carmen lowered herself into the water and looked down at the sharks below her. She knew exactly where the boat was and swam to the other side of it while never taking her eyes off the roaming, darting swarm.

  So far, the sharks didn’t seem to be interested in them. But how long would that last? They were hungry. It was obvious. The blood in the water would only call for more. Worse for her and Alex is something she hadn’t told him. She started her period this morning, which is why she wasn’t fully naked. She’d taken precautions, such as wearing a black bikini bottom and wearing a tampon, but even a trace of blood in this environment would only create more interest in them.

  She watched him swim over to the moorings. There were two of them. He’d need to lift his hands above the dock and untie each. Because they were shielded by the hut, no one on the shoreline would be able to see him. And they didn’t. Soon, the boat was free and he dived under it to be next to her.

  “Now, we paddle,” he said.

  “How far?”

  “Maybe a quarter of a mile.”

  “Pushing this boat? With those sharks? Deeper water is out there. Bigger fish. It’s dangerous. We don’t know what we’ll find.”

  “It won’t take as long as you think. We paddle and paddle hard, but with our feet beneath the surface. Never break the surface. Are we clear on that? If they hear us, they’ll shoot at us.”

  “Eventually, they’ll see the boat, Alex.”

  “That’s right, but at a distance they might not be able to reach. That’s a chance we’re going to have to take. Come on,” he said. “Paddle.”

  “I need to tell you something,” she said. “My period started this morning.” She saw the concerned look on his face and didn’t wait for him to speak. “I’m wearing a tampon, but it won’t be enough. The sharks will still smell the blood.”

  “Then we hurry. Keep your head lowered. If a shark comes near you, bash it on top of its head with your fist. If the situation becomes too dangerous, we hope for the best, get into the boat and speed away.”

  She put her head in the water and this time, she faced her greatest fright. Far away from them and to the right were two men in scuba gear. The water was so clear, she figured they were five hundred yards away, but swimming so hard, they were quickly closing the distance between them. In their hands were harpoon guns. When she saw one of the men turn to the other and point at them, she knew they had been spotted.

  She lifted her head. “Two men. To your right. Harpoons. Coming straight at us. Get over here. We paddle from the left-side of the boat.”

  He looked down, saw them and swam closer to her, lifting himself so his mouth was just above the surface. “They’re either going to shoot us or the boat. The harpoons will sink the boat. We need to get in it now and get out of here. There’s no choice.”

  She knew he was right. Together, they scrambled low into the boat and when they did, another harpoon crashed through the hut and soared over their heads.

  Carmen rushed to the front. This boat was no ordinary boat. It was sophisticated and cost her a fortune. A turn of a key would start the engine. But the moment she turned it, the dual engines were so powerful, all would hear them. She looked at Alex, who was leaning low against the side of the boat. “Hurry,” he said.

  Hunching down as low as she could, she turned the key, the engines roared to life and suddenly the air behind them became alive with harpoons and gunfire.

  She sped away.

  Tried to speed away.

  Below them, one of the men shot a harpoon. It smashed through the right side of the boat, but instead of shooting clear through to the other side, the harpoon sank into Alex’s thigh and pinned him to the boat. She looked over at him in horror and saw his face twisted in pain while scores of harpoons rained down on them, some glancing off the boat, most plunging into the water. “Go!” he said through gritted teeth. “Move before they shoot again!”

  Without thinking of the consequences or what might happen to Alex given the dire situation of his wound, she forced herself to focus and roared away as the onslaught continued.

  It was a nightmare. She could hear glass breaking behind her and then an explosion as one of the harpoons connected with the propane tank in the kitchen area.

  She looked over her shoulder and saw her beloved hut alive and thrashing with flames. She’d spent so many years here and now it was gone. She pressed harder on the throttle and moved faster until they presumably were out of reach. She sped left and rounded into an inlet, while warm water leached around her feet. Her boat was going to sink. She pressed the throttle harder and moved into the inlet, which was miles from her hut and where some of the locals lived. She knew one of the families here. They could help them.

  “Are you alright?” she asked.

  He didn’t answer.

  “Can you see them?”

  Silence.

  She looked over her shoulder and saw that Alex’s eyes were closed and that he was oddly pale. She looked down at the bottom of the boat and saw that the warm water she thought she was standing in actually was his blood. The harpoon and his leg had created something of a plug, sealing off the water from the boat but not the blood from Alex’s leg. The harpoon had struck an artery. He was bleeding out.

  Quickly, she removed her bikini bottom and tied it tight just above the wound. She patted his face and asked him to speak to her. Nothing. She gently shook him and asked him to say something. Nothing. She checked for a pulse. Nothing.

  Panic rose within her. He had come to mean everything to her. She couldn’t lose him. It wasn’t right. She was in love with him. “Don’t leave me,” she said, shaking him harder. “Please don’t leave me. Please stay.”

  She needed to administer CPR, but she couldn’t move him onto his back because of how the harpoon had pinned him to the boat. She’d need to improvise.

  She pressed her ear to his chest and heard nothing. She checked to see if he was breathing, but he wasn’t. Immediately, she wrapped her arm around his back for support and slammed her fist against his chest in an effort to get his heart beating again. She pressed her mouth against his cool lips and forced air into his lungs, but there was no response. Again, she slammed her fist against his chest and gave him more air. She repeated the procedure four times before she felt for a pulse. But there wasn’t one.

  He was dead.

  She looked up at the distant shoreline and could see nothing but smoke rising into the air above a hood of trees. She looked down at Alex and everything within her rejected what she saw. She found a towel at the rear of the boat and placed it behind his head to make him comfortable. When she touched his cheek with the back of her hand and bent down to kiss him a final time on the lips, she noticed that her whole body was trembling with grief and rage. She wanted to go back and kill them all for what they’d done to him, but it would be suicide if she did so.

  She stepped back into the driver’s seat and sat there. She felt weightless, hopeless, useless. She looked out at the ocean as the boat rocked and swayed. Water lapped against the side of it. It was soothing, almost hypnotic. She gave into it. Time passed. The sun moved across the sky. She only came around when something nudged against the boat. Pushed it. She looked around her as something whipped about in the water, startling her into focus. She looked down at the water and saw that it was boiling. Dozens of sharks were teaming around the boat, probably drawn by Alex’s blood, which likely was leaking into the water.

  She had to collect herself. She needed to save herself. He’d be furious with her if she didn’t do so.

  Think.

  The family she knew within the inlet could help her. Contacts in the States could send her a new passport. To leave here, she’d need to change her identity, but those matters could be worked out abroad.

  When her passport came, so would supplies to make her look like her new photo. She’d been in th
is situation before, but never quite like this. Never in love. She wanted to scream into the sun, but instinct kept her silent. She couldn’t give away her location. She’d be damned if they killed each of them.

  She started the boat again and, with Alex at her back, she crept around the inlet, her heart turning to ice as she moved forward through the deep. A feast of sharks slapped their tails against the boat, but she ignored them and kept her eyes on the horizon. Help was ahead. Small huts were behind the swaying palms. She’d seek out her friends and then she’d seek out her enemies.

  She’d have her revenge.

  They’d pay for what they did.

  * * *

  In the month following the incident at The Four Seasons, Leana Redman remained in her Park Avenue penthouse, unwilling to leave until they caught the people responsible for killing Jean-George Laurent and for potentially trying to kill her.

  People called, including her mother and half-brother, Michael, but in spite of the news coverage that had blanketed the city for so long as investigators tried to learn who the murderer was, there was not one call from her father.

  She tried to tell herself that she wasn’t surprised or disappointed, but she was just lying to herself. Her mother told her that he’d never change, which was the truth. He was expecting her to call him, but she wouldn’t. More than ever, she was beginning to care less and less about him. She knew it was unhealthy for her to spend much more time wondering why he was the way he was. He didn’t care for her. As difficult as it was, she needed to accept that.

  One morning after many late-night discussions with Mario, much of which involved the security he wanted to have in place for her when she did emerge, she decided she couldn’t stay like this forever. At the very least, she owed it to Harold to pick herself up and move forward with her dreams. Not following them was exactly what he didn’t want. He had entrusted her with his money for a specific reason and that reason wasn’t just to succeed, but to take on her father and succeed.

  For herself and for Harold, she needed to see it through.