by Tom Wood
‘I did say I’m not very popular. If you’d have trusted me and not said my name to test your theories then your shirt would be dry and we wouldn’t have two dead federal agents here. Even if we stop the attack, you’re still fucked.’
He frowned. ‘I don’t like profanity.’
She laughed. ‘But killing people is okay?’
‘I never said I was consistent. And there is no we. I appreciate your assistance at the museum, but you’re on your own. I’m no fan of bombs and the carnage they cause but I’m not staying in this city a second longer. The authorities were on to me within moments of leaving that museum. I almost didn’t escape. Every cop and federal agent in the city will be looking for me.’
‘They were on to you so fast because Halleck gave you up to them.’
‘Of course,’ Victor said. ‘Which is why I need to get out of here.’
‘If you run and I don’t stop it on my own then you’ll be a fugitive with half the Western world looking for you.’
Victor said, ‘That’s pretty much my life right now.’
‘Even a mercenary like you cares about taking the blame for an act of terrorism. And however much you’re a wanted man now, that’s only going to rise exponentially afterwards.’
‘Of course,’ he said again. ‘On both counts.’
‘How are you going to keep working when your face is plastered on every news bulletin?’
He didn’t answer.
‘And how are you going to avoid all those enemies of yours when you’re the world’s most wanted man?’
‘Okay,’ he said. ‘You make a compelling pitch. What are you proposing? That we work together to stop Halleck setting me up?’
‘That’s a somewhat selfish way of looking at it,’ Raven said. ‘I like to think of it as we work together to stop a major act of terrorism.’
‘Semantics. How do we stop Halleck? All we know is that he’s going to set off a bomb and the blackout is helping him do that. We don’t know where it is or where he is.’
She said, ‘The cops are looking for us, right? Especially you. We make sure you come to the attention of New York’s finest. It’ll be called in. Cell phone towers are down, but cop radios will still work. Halleck’s people will be piggybacking on the airwaves or they’ll be informed by one of his people on the inside. He’ll know where you are five seconds after the cops do. We don’t need to find Halleck. We just have to make sure his people find us.’
‘Then what?’
‘Isn’t it obvious? We take one alive. By now they’ll have to know more. They’ll know where Halleck is or where the bomb is. If we’re lucky, that’ll be the same place.’
‘That sounds too much like guesswork to me.’
She shrugged. ‘What choice do we have?’
‘You mean the choice beyond putting ourselves on the radar of the NYPD, the FBI and Halleck’s people at the same time?’
She nodded.
‘If we use ourselves as bait when the whole city is looking for us then it’s more than likely we’re going to get into a situation we can’t control. The cops outnumber us by a factor of five thousand. They have helicopters. They have SWAT teams. And that’s without FBI and Homeland Security and Halleck’s people. It’s too much of a risk. It can’t be done.’
Raven gave him a look and held up Wallinger’s car keys.
Victor raised an eyebrow. ‘It’s so ridiculous it might actually work.’
FORTY-NINE
They found Wallinger and Guerrero’s vehicle on the east side of the block. It was an anonymous Ford Crown Victoria. An older model, parked in the mouth of an alleyway. Walking distance from the tenement building, but also hidden from passers-by. Raven used the key fob to unlock the car and she climbed behind the wheel.
There was a radio positioned in the console.
She lifted up the receiver and said, ‘Do you want to, or shall I?’
Victor took it from her. ‘I heard them both speak. You didn’t.’
She shrugged and settled back into the driver’s seat.
He cleared his throat and thumbed the send button. ‘This is Agent Wallinger. I have a possible sighting on the Met museum suspect.’
He released the send button and a dispatcher said, ‘Go, Agent Wallinger.’
‘I have a witness claiming they saw a six-foot-two male, dark hair and wearing a suit, acting suspiciously inside Joyce Kilmer Park within the last five minutes. He may or may not be in the company of a female. I’m stuck in gridlock. I can’t get there.’
The dispatcher said, ‘I’ll pass it on. You stay safe out there, Clarence.’
Victor said, ‘You can be certain of that,’ and replaced the receiver on to its hook.
Joyce Kilmer Park was one block north and one east. It was a short walk through the dark streets. They didn’t want to risk taking Guerrero and Wallinger’s vehicle. The last of the twilight had gone and a pale moon glowed through thin clouds above them. Without light pollution, stars could be seen too.
Even with some roads gridlocked and an overstretched emergency service they figured the NYPD would get to the park fast. Halleck’s people would take longer. They were a big crew but spread over the city there might not be anyone nearby if they were searching for them on an even spread. But Victor doubted that would be the case. The mock safe house was a known location, and even if Halleck didn’t know that Victor and Raven had arranged to meet there, it would be smart to have people check it out in case either one returned.
‘We can’t wait there though,’ Raven had insisted. ‘If the cops catch us in the vicinity of dead Homeland Security agents, we’re done.’
Victor had agreed. It would be more problematic to take a captive in an enclosed space. If they knew – or even believed – Victor or Raven was in the building they would send in every man they had. On the streets, they could be divided.
Joyce Kilmer Park was long and thin, occupying three blocks north to south and one wide, surrounded by road on all four sides. It was crisscrossed with walkways cutting through the grassland. Trees lined most of the walkways. With the moon above, the open spaces were lit well enough to see the scattering of people sitting on benches or walking or drinking or smoking or looking at the stars.
Raven said, ‘Halleck’s people are already here.’
Victor turned to face her and put his hands on her waist as though they were a couple conversing. He waited for more information.
‘One guy on his own,’ she explained. ‘Dressed in a dark sports jacket. Short blond hair. Thirties. He’s by a bench. Ten metres to your seven o’clock.’
He didn’t look. She took a step left, hands on his shoulders, positioning herself so Victor blocked her line of sight, and the blond man’s in return.
‘He made it here fast.’
She nodded. ‘He was probably on his way to the apartment when we made the call. We must have missed him by minutes.’
He nodded too. ‘At least we don’t have to hang around in the rain.’
‘I thought you were a pessimist. How do you want to do this?’
‘That depends if he plans to shoot us on sight.’
She said, ‘So give me the options.’
‘You peel off and hang back,’ Victor explained. ‘I’ll make sure he sees me and I’ll lead him out of the park. Either he’ll follow me to see where I’m going or he’ll shoot me between the shoulder blades as soon as we’re alone. Thanks to the blackout there are plenty of dark streets and darker corners. You follow behind him and make sure he doesn’t. Either way, we’ll be alone with him.’
Raven said, ‘It won’t work.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because he’s not alone. There’s another one. Dark-skinned with a dark beard, at your three o’clock. And he’s seen us.’
This time Victor looked, because there was nothing to lose.
Raven was right. The dark-skinned man had seen them and he was speaking to his left wrist. He was wearing a sports jacket too.
&n
bsp; Got ’em, Victor read on his lips.
He led Raven away, towards the closest exit, knowing the two guys behind would converge and follow without having to look. There was no danger of being shot in the back while still inside the park boundaries. No matter how loyal these two were to Halleck, they were not going to gun down Victor and Raven with so many witnesses. They would wait for a better opportunity and maybe even for backup to arrive. Either of which gave Victor and Raven time to lure them to a place of their choosing.
They left through one of the east exits and crossed the many lanes of Grand Concourse. They headed between H-shaped tenements, walking in darkness where the moonlight failed to reach. Victor heard the footsteps of their pursuers nearing.
They walked round a corner. Where the pathway between buildings met the road a cop car was parked. Two NYPD officers were talking with concerned locals – explaining and reassuring and answering questions as best they could.
Victor slowed to back off and find another route, but Raven shook her head and walked towards the cops. Victor hesitated until he understood what she was doing, then did the same.
The two guys in sports jackets appeared soon after, saw him and Raven walking and tasted success, but only for an instant. They saw what he was doing, saw the cops, and slowed down to look casual, hands retreating away from holstered guns and zipping up their jackets to hide them.
Victor and Raven stood with the group of locals as though they were paying attention to what the cops had to say, keeping their two pursuers in sight all the while.
They reached the crowd. They didn’t know what to do but they were not going to start shooting in front of the NYPD.
Their eyes were locked on to Victor and Raven, full of anger at being so close but neutered. Victor gave them a measured smile of triumph, knowing it would only anger them further, knowing that anger in turn would lead them to make a mistake.
They held their nerve though. For the moment, at least, they kept their cool. They were not amateurs. Then they started thinking and communicating with looks and facial expressions.
The one with short blond hair pushed his way to the flank, boxing Victor and Raven into the crowd with nowhere to go. It was a smart, if predictable move. One Victor had expected.
And wanted.
He edged towards the other guy, the one with the beard and dark skin. The man was confused but tense and ready for Victor to make a run for it, not —
For Victor to strike him in the solar plexus.
The man collapsed straight down to his knees, clutching his chest, trying without success to suck air into lungs with a paralysed diaphragm.
‘Hey, help,’ Raven called to the cops. ‘Something’s wrong. This guy just…’
‘Stand aside, stand aside,’ one of the cops yelled as he moved closer.
He waved his partner over while the man with the beard wheezed, breathless and desperate.
‘I think he’s having a heart attack,’ Raven said.
‘Give the man some room, yeah?’ the cop said and ushered people back. ‘Don’t crowd him.’
Victor and Raven walked away as a cop unzipped the guy’s jacket, snapping out his Glock from the holster on his belt when he saw the man’s suppressed pistol in the shoulder rig.
‘Hands in the fucking sky, asshole,’ the other cop shouted, drawing his own gun.
The man with the beard gasped and tried to splutter a protest. He didn’t have the strength to raise his hands. The second man glanced between Victor and Raven and then his team mate, then headed after Victor and Raven.
Again, a predictable move. Again, one that Victor had wanted.
He waited until he was nearing a corner and ran round it, only to stop as soon as he was out of sight.
The man with the blond hair bolted round the corner four seconds later.
Victor whipped the blade of his forearm into the guy’s face, the force multiplied by the guy’s own speed.
His feet carried on forward while his head stayed put and he folded and dropped, landing hard on his right shoulder. He went slack, conscious but dazed, blood from his face smeared on the pavement.
Victor glanced around and spotted a building he liked the look of. ‘There,’ he said and dragged the man to the doorway.
It took Raven a matter of seconds to pick the lock and they hurried inside.
FIFTY
On the other side of the door was a dark room full of cardboard boxes and piled junk. A dim glow of moonlight shone through a window. The man with blond hair moaned as Victor dragged him by his ankles through the doorway and deposited him in an unceremonious heap while Raven performed a quick recon.
Victor searched through the man’s pockets while he breathed with a high-pitched wheeze because his nose was crushed flat. He found a wallet, spare ammunition, a radio, a cell phone and the suppressed Ruger in black leather shoulder rigging. Victor took everything and dropped it on the floor out of the man’s reach.
He held up the wallet for the man to see. ‘Personal effects? That’s such a basic error. I guess you must be part of the B team, Mr Sean Pachulski.’
The man’s eyes began to focus as his senses returned. His gaze flicked between Victor and Raven. Despite the obvious pain and his captive status he was angry and defiant beyond bravado. This was a warrior.
‘Fuck you,’ Pachulski shouted.
He was somewhere in his forties, face aged further by sun, alcohol and tobacco. Gold glinted at his neck and around his left ring finger. Tattoos and scars covered his thick arms. He had a Bronx accent.
Victor brought a finger to his lips. ‘Shh.’
The man growled, ‘I’m gonna kill you.’
‘Of course you are.’
He tried to stand to deliver on his promise, but his right shoulder was useless – dislocated or suffering from a torn rotator cuff. He couldn’t get himself upright with only one arm. The more he tried, the more he cried out in pain.
‘Have you finished?’ Victor asked.
Pachulski stared, nostrils flaring in rage and frustration.
Raven returned and said, ‘It’s clear. We’re alone.’
Victor nodded and looked down at the warrior. ‘Did you hear that?’
The man said nothing.
‘Do you understand what that means for you?’
‘I’m gonna fucking kill you,’ Pachulski hissed.
He rolled back on to his front and tried to stand. For all his determination, he had neither the strength nor coordination to do so with only the use of a single arm.
‘I respect your will,’ Victor said, ‘if not your distorted sense of reality. You couldn’t kill me with two hands, a gun and backup. Now you can’t even stand.’
‘You’re a dead man.’
‘Empirical evidence states otherwise.’
The rage became acceptance. He stared. ‘Shut up and kill me, you fuck.’
Victor said, ‘All in good time.’
Raven gestured for him to hurry. Victor gestured to say that he had it under control.
‘Your shoulder looks painful,’ Victor said.
‘I’ve had paper cuts that hurt more,’ Pachulski growled. ‘You’re a pussy.’
‘I need some answers.’
‘Go fuck yourself.’
Victor said, ‘I’m not a vindictive type but try not to swear and I assure you this will go a lot easier.’
The man sneered. ‘You think you can torture me and I’ll talk? Fuck you. Fuck you. FUCK. YOU.’
There was no false confidence, but defiance and self-belief wrapped up in fury. A powerful combination. This was a man who would not be broken without considerable effort. Any pain would fuel that anger and solidify the defiance. It might be hours before his will cracked. Victor considered for a moment.
‘I believe you when you say that, Mr Pachulski. I don’t think pain is going to make you tell me what I need to know.’
‘You’d better fucking believe it.’
Victor said, ‘But pain can be a
n emotional as well as a physical response. What other emotions are there? Fear? That’s no good; I can’t scare you. Love? What do you love most in this world?’
The man named Pachulski hesitated, not knowing how to answer; confused or wary of some trap or manipulation attempt.
‘I said: what do you love most in this world?’
Still, the man gave no answer. His eyes narrowed, suspicious and growing nervous.
‘It’s not a trick question,’ Victor assured.
Victor held open the wallet so Pachulski could see the contents, in particular a photograph behind clear plastic.
The man stared. Swallowed.
Victor said, ‘Is this what you love most in this world?’
Pachulski said nothing. He didn’t blink.
Victor said, ‘You have a beautiful family, Sean. May I call you Sean?’ He didn’t wait for an answer. ‘Your two girls look just like their mother.’
Anger and pain left the man’s face, replaced by fear.
‘You’re a bit broader now than in this picture. A couple of years old, is it? That would make your girls… Seven and eight? Something like that. The little one looks like she’s trouble. I can see the mischief in her grin.’
The man tried, but failed, to stop his eyes welling.
Victor took out a credit card, examined it for a second, then held it up for the man to see. Victor did the same with the driver’s licence. He tapped the printed address.
‘This is exactly why you don’t take personal effects with you on a job, Sean. And this is exactly why I have no one in my life. Are you going to tell me what I need to know?’
Tears streamed from Pachulski’s eyes, flowing over his temples and into his hair.
‘You don’t live that far from here,’ Victor said. ‘In fact I was close to your address earlier today. I think I can be there in about twenty minutes.’ He looked to Raven. ‘What do you think?’
She said, ‘The roads will be clearer now, so maybe fifteen.’
Pachulski’s eyes were as red as his bloody nose.
‘I can have your two girls on the radio within half an hour,’ Victor continued, ‘begging Daddy to save them. Will you be brave enough to tell them you can’t?’
