by Tom Wood
He stayed with the wet street as it veered deeper into the industrial neighbourhood.
The Audi shunted him from behind. Bullets exploded through the rear windscreen. Sheets of cracked glass disintegrated and fell away. The Chrysler lost both wing mirrors at the same time as he squeezed it between a Jeep and a bus. Orange sparks flared as metal grinded and screeched against metal.
Horns and the screech of tyres filled his ears. He weaved the car through tight turns, roaring exhaust alerting pedestrians ahead to get out of the way.
Reverberations told him the car was taking more rounds, this time to the chassis. One passed through the interior and tore away a chunk of dashboard plastic. Raven used an arm to shield her face from the shrapnel. Another took out the odometer. The driver’s side window fell apart.
Rainwater came through the destroyed window, splashing his face and getting into his eyes. He used a sleeve to wipe them clear.
A bullet had damaged the Chrysler’s wiper controls and they ceased swinging back and forth. In seconds the windscreen was covered in rainwater, reducing visibility even further. He strained to see through it. Sooner or later he would crash into something.
He pulled a ninety-degree turn at speed. The rear wheels lost grip and slipped away, tyres skidding across the asphalt. The Audi followed through the tyre smoke and spray, its own turn wider, but more controlled. It dented and scraped against parked cars as it accelerated in chase.
Victor wrenched the wheel from side to side to keep the Chrysler moving and a harder target for the gunman in the passenger seat of the Audi. The faster, more manoeuvrable vehicle charged past other cars, clipping bumpers and fenders and causing them to skid and crash.
Muzzle flashes brightened the Chrysler’s rear-view mirror and Victor ducked low as rounds punched holes in the safety glass of the windscreen before him. He repositioned himself to see through them. The passenger window was hit and fragmented, cascading glass across the road.
Ahead the street fell away at a sharp gradient.
Raven said, ‘Speed up.’
He glanced at her.
‘Then brake,’ she explained.
Victor hesitated, then realised what she meant and stamped the accelerator before braking hard a second before they reached the drop.
The Chrysler flew over the crest of the slope, all four wheels leaving the road surface. For a second the vehicle gained altitude, leaving a comet trail of sparkling glass pebbles, misting rainwater and tyre smoke, before gravity tipped the nose forward and pulled the front bumper down and crashing into the asphalt. It cracked and distorted, falling clear as the tyres then hit the road an instant later and the suspension bounced the nose back up. The rear tyres found the ground and the whole car shook and skidded.
Victor hung on to the steering wheel, in part to control the car and in part to prevent himself flailing around.
The passenger’s side rear tyre peeled away. The Chrysler swerved and skidded on the wet street, losing control, splashing up rainwater, tipping on to two tyres while swaying and zigzagging off the road and on to the pavement and then back again. The Chrysler tipped over from two wheels and flipped on to the roof, momentum carrying it back over on to four wheels again, groaning and shuddering to a stop. Pebbles of glass scattered across the road surface as the vehicle rocked from side to side against its suspension.
The pursuing Audi followed over the slope’s crest, faster and lighter, the driver not braking as Victor had done – not seeing the coming slope in time – gaining more altitude and flying over a longer arc. The vehicle then had further to fall and with more force. The nose tipped forward past sixty degrees, almost to ninety, almost dropping straight down on to the road. The bumper crushed and the headlights exploded. Fenders crumpled along with the bonnet, flames flaring from the crushed engine.
The car skidded forward on its nose for a split second before tipping over on to the roof, metal whining, and glass smashing. Upside down, it slid along the sloping road surface, sparks trailing behind in a glowing shower.
The upturned Audi came to a slow stop. Glass and dust and debris filled the air. Steam and smoke billowed from the engine. Flames hissed in the rain. Three wheels spun useless, trying to grip nothing but air. The fourth had come off and arched away, landing on and denting the roof of an approaching minivan.
The two guys in the Audi hung upside down, suspended by seat belts. Blood smeared the passenger’s shaved head. Neither man was moving much.
Victor squinted away the pain and checked for injuries. His neck ached from the whiplash and he was sore where the seat belt had dug into his shoulder and chest, but there was nothing worse to be concerned about.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked.
Raven nodded, grimacing. ‘Never better.’
He turned the ignition key. The starter motor whined, weak and fading. Not surprised, Victor gave up but remained in the Chrysler while he looked around for other enemies. They were exposed while stationary, but the dense bodywork, heavy chassis, big engine block, and even the thick chairs, all offered significant protection from the low-powered .22 calibre rounds their hunters were using. If more gunmen were near he would prefer to be shot at while inside the vehicle than while on the coverless street.
When he was as sure as he could be that there were no immediate threats, he tried the door release but the door wouldn’t open. It was stuck fast. The frame had buckled, steel warped and unyielding to his strength. The windows were too small to crawl through with any kind of speed so he used a palm to punch out the remains of the windscreen, and twisted and pulled himself through the resulting gap. Raven did the same.
Onlookers stood aghast. No one was yet brave enough to approach. Some took out phones to take pictures or video recordings. Victor kept his face turned away.
He stood, a little unsteady, and walked backwards away from the wrecked vehicle, watching the street for more pursuers. He turned when he saw none, and hurried to the upturned Audi.
He pulled open the closest door and squatted to retrieve the passenger’s Ruger from where it lay on the inside of the roof. He went through their pockets, but aside from a radio transmitter these guys were operating sterile. The passenger groaned and wheezed, one eye filled with blood but one open and staring at Victor.
Help me, the man mouthed. Please.
Victor mouthed, No.
He pushed the radio into a pocket and tucked the Ruger into his waistband and under his shirt and hurried away along the pavement past a grand office building while a couple of young guys approached the crash, looking for people to help or perhaps wanting a better view of any bodies.
Raven said, ‘We need to go. Now.’
At the corner of the block Victor glanced over his shoulder to see the Audi he had rammed earlier reaching the crash site. The passenger was jumping out for a closer look at the wrecked Chrysler. He saw Victor was not inside and rushed back to the Audi, shaking his head. He had no interest in the upside-down vehicle or the fate of the two guys inside.
Victor watched from the shadows until the Audi had disappeared into the night.
FIFTY-FIVE
They left Manhattan on the Staten Island ferry. The ferries were still running and packed to capacity with otherwise stranded commuters unable to take other forms of public transport or use their cars on closed roads and bridges. The police presence felt heavy at the South Street terminal but the overworked cops seemed more interested in keeping the dense crowds under control than looking out for fugitives.
The East River ferry would have taken them straight to Brooklyn, but if Halleck’s crew were watching any route, that would be the one.
Victor and Raven stood outside on the top deck because it was almost impossible to get inside with so many people competing for space. Raven positioned herself to Victor’s left. To his right a frail woman with bone-white hair clutched a handbag-sized dog. A teacup chihuahua, the woman told him, named Teddy.
‘They don’t allow pets on the ferry,�
�� she explained. ‘So I normally take the Q to Coney Island.’
To be polite, Victor asked, ‘How did you get Teddy onboard?’
‘I said to them, “If you don’t let me take him with me then I’ll have to swim instead.”’ She grinned, mischievous. ‘I turned on the waterworks.’
‘A shrewd tactic.’
She nodded. ‘A lady must use all weapons in her arsenal.’
Raven said, ‘I couldn’t agree more.’
The woman stroked Teddy and asked Victor, ‘How long have you two been together?’
He hesitated, but Raven said, ‘Not long. But it’s something of a whirlwind romance.’
The woman said to Raven, ‘The best kind, dear,’ and then to Victor, ‘You’re a lucky man. I hope you treat her right.’
Victor remained silent.
‘If I were you,’ the woman said to Raven with a wink, ‘I’d make the most of him before he gets fat. Because they all do.’
Raven laughed and said, ‘Oh, I intend to.’
The woman excused herself to find a toilet for Teddy to use. Victor didn’t enquire as to how Teddy might use facilities designed for humans or even how she knew the dog needed to.
They arrived at the St George terminal a few minutes after nine p.m. The power was running on Staten Island, and they could see the same was the case across the bay in Brooklyn. A bus took them over the bridge and south to Coney Island. It was nearing ten when they stood on the sea wall, facing east, and looked out across the water to their objective, some two kilometres away.
Floyd Bennett Field was little more than wide empty space on the map. It was located on Barren Island, a spur of artificial land, filled and claimed from the sea on the southeast coast of Brooklyn, surrounded by water on three sides. To the east lay Jamaica Bay; west was the Lower Bay. To the south across the narrow strip of water between the two lay the Queens Peninsula, which marked the last stretch of dry land before the Atlantic Ocean. It had been built as New York’s first municipal airport in 1931, but these days it was only in service during air shows. The area was now managed by the National Park Service and was used for camping, motorsport events and other leisure activities.
But not in the middle of the night. Now, the disused airfield would be unoccupied save for Halleck’s team.
‘If I’m right, there are four bridges that lead to the island,’ Raven said. ‘Two at the north, one at the west and one south.’
Victor could see the Marine Parkway Bridge in the distance, stretching over the water from the Queens Peninsula.
‘Halleck has a large crew, but it’s not big enough to keep watch over the entire island. He has enough men to watch the bridges though.’
‘I’m hoping you don’t suggest we swim,’ Raven said.
‘I didn’t bring my shorts.’
She gestured with her chin to where sailboats and pleasure boats and small yachts were moored on a nearby jetty. ‘No one is out on the water at this time of night.’
He nodded.
She said, ‘I don’t know how to sail.’
‘Neither do I.’
‘Outboard motors are noisy. They’ll hear us coming a mile away.’
He said, ‘What’s your upper-body strength like?’
She turned to follow his gaze to where an inflatable lifeboat was moored behind one of the larger yachts.
‘I can bench twice my bodyweight,’ she said. ‘Can you?’
He didn’t answer. ‘Any idea what Halleck is having delivered?’
She shook her head. ‘Your guess is as good as mine. But I think it’s safe to say it will be related to the attack.’
‘Will Halleck be there to collect it?’
She regarded him, close and searching. ‘Halleck doesn’t die until I know what he’s planning and where the bomb is. Are we clear on that?’
‘I understand what your motivations are, yes.’
‘That’s not what I said. Remember: if that bomb goes off, the person who is going to take the fall for it is you, so it’s in your own best interests that it doesn’t go bang.’
Victor said nothing.
For a minute they watched the moonlight dance on the water and listened to the lapping of waves.
‘What now?’ she asked.
‘We eat.’
They found places still open easy enough, but they ignored the busy restaurants and bars, settling instead on a quiet diner with only one other patron. They sat in a booth along the far wall where they could both see the door. The waitress who took their order had the tired eyes of someone who was at the end of a double shift and didn’t disguise her annoyance at having another table to serve. Victor reminded himself to leave a good tip.
He ordered coffee and the all-day breakfast. Raven only wanted coffee.
‘Never go into battle on an empty stomach,’ he told her after the waitress had gone.
‘You do it your way,’ Raven said in return. ‘I’ll do it my way.’
The diner had a television mounted high in one corner. The sound was off and even without reading the anchor’s lips, Victor knew what was being discussed and what was not.
He said, ‘They’re saying the blackout was caused by a computer fault.’
Raven shrugged. ‘That’s true, kind of.’
‘And the power will be back on by morning. No mention of it being deliberate. Certainly not an act of terrorism.’
She nodded. ‘Even if they know what caused it, there’s no point alarming people. It’s like we have a collective consciousness to maintain the lie that everything is fine, even when it’s not.’
They said nothing more until the waitress had returned with the coffee flask and gone again.
Victor said, ‘If you were Halleck, what would you do? Would you have your guys out looking for us, or would you pull them back to protect the delivery?’
She didn’t have to consider the options. ‘Protect the delivery. His guys have failed twice while they’ve been spread out, and the authorities are looking for us anyway. Plus, even if he doesn’t know we’ve found out about the airfield, he needs to consider the possibility. Especially if I’m Halleck and I’m there too, or will be. He’s a warrior and he’s no coward, but he’s not stupid.’
Victor nodded. ‘I agree. Pachulski said there were twenty-four guys. The guy I spoke to earlier today said twenty-one.’
‘That’s Halleck not keeping his people in the know. It could be either or it could be less or it could be even be more.’
‘Let’s go with twenty-four. Anything else is optimism or wild speculation. I don’t do either.’
‘We took out two who came after us in the Audis, plus Pachulski and his partner. That leaves twenty.’
‘I disabled three and killed one in the parking garage under the museum.’
‘Nice work,’ she said. ‘That brings us down to sixteen.’
‘Fifteen,’ Victor corrected. ‘The guy on the subway will be calling in sick.’
‘What did you do with him?’
He said, ‘I convinced him his time would be better spent not following me around the city.’
‘You convinced him?’
‘I can be very persuasive when I want to be.’
Raven said, ‘So, he’s still out there?’
Victor nodded.
Raven shook her head. ‘Halleck picks people for their loyalty first and foremost.’
‘Good,’ Victor said. ‘I’d rather go against the most loyal opposition than the best opposition.’
She frowned at him. ‘What I mean is that guy you scared off will have had a change of heart.’
‘No,’ Victor said. ‘Right now he’s home or on his way home and thinking about what to do with the rest of his life.
‘Sixteen guys left,’ Raven said as though she hadn’t even heard him.
They stared at one another.
‘Or would you prefer we underestimated the strength of our opposition?’
‘Well played,’ Victor conceded. ‘Sixteen it is.�
��
She didn’t gloat. Instead she bit her lip. ‘That’s a hell of a crew. Sixteen guys is too many. We’ve only been up against a handful at a time before now. Next time we’ll be outnumbered eight-to-one.’
‘I can do basic arithmetic, Constance.’
‘I’m not sure what I dislike most: your sarcasm or your insistence on calling me that.’
Victor said, ‘When all this is over I’ll tell you my own name, which I’ve never liked either. Then you can have your revenge.’
‘Really?’ she asked, eyes widening in disbelief.
‘No,’ Victor said. ‘I was being sarcastic again.’
She groaned and rolled her eyes. ‘You’re like an annoying older brother, you know that?’
He nodded. ‘But an annoying older brother with a plan to get that number down.’
He placed Pachulski’s radio on to the tabletop.
FIFTY-SIX
There were several clothing stores in the immediate area, all closed for the night. They broke into the one that sold camping and fishing gear too. Raven headed straight to the women’s section while Victor selected garments from the men’s racks, choosing dark-coloured items and ignoring synthetic materials.
They reconvened in a back room. Victor turned away as Raven began undressing. He didn’t like having her out of sight whilst in close proximity, but figured he was safe enough while she undressed. No one would attack while half-naked.
‘You don’t need to protect my modesty,’ she said. ‘I don’t have any.’
He didn’t reply.
Raven said, ‘Or are you trying to tell me you don’t trust yourself?’
‘Just hurry up.’
He couldn’t see it, but he could feel her smile. He began undressing.
She wolf-whistled, then laughed when he sighed and shook his head in response.
He changed into his new clothes. They were a reasonable fit and suitable quality for what would come next. He would have preferred military fatigues with lots of pockets but he settled for dark blue cotton trousers, a black T-shirt and a dark grey knitted sweater. A midnight blue windbreaker and black lace-up boots completed the attire.
