“This isn’t worth ten bucks,” said a young haggler. “I’ll give you five for it.”
“Look kid, quit bustin’ my balls. If the sign says ten, its ten.”
Maggie brushed past the little stand and swiped an ‘I heart NYC’ shirt and hat.
“Put these on,” she instructed Emily, tossing the girl’s oversized hoody into a nearby trash can. Maggie shrugged out of her cardigan and added it to the pile, along with her short haired wig.
“Who are you?” asked Emily. “Some kind of Jane Bond?”
“No,” Maggie replied, running a hand through her real hair. “I like my martinis stirred.”
Emily simply frowned.
Tires screeched and sent Maggie’s heart to her throat. Grabbing Emily, they crossed East Drive, a road which allowed for cars to drive through the park, and slinked into Bridle Path which lay parallel to it. They dove behind a set of bushes which were beginning to turn with Autumn almost upon them and peered through the little gaps.
Two of the SUVs pulled into the park, barley slowing down for pedestrians who rushed to avoid being hit.
The brakes slammed and Aleksandar got out the front passenger seat of one of the vehicles, followed by his men. He barked out orders, sending a group to head north on foot and the second SUV southbound down the drive. The third car was nowhere to be seen.
The head of security scanned the area by the first SUV, his body taught with barely controlled rage. Maggie had penetrated his fortress and stole his witness, which not only undermined him and his job, but the country he served, too. Aleksandar was out for blood.
They may be on the hunt, but Maggie was far from easy prey.
“Come on,” she whispered, helping Emily up. “We need to go.”
Keeping hidden, they travelled up a set of stone steps and reached the Shuman Running Track which ran the circumference of the large man-made stretch of water. Beyond, the reservoir stretched out, taking center stage in New York’s oasis, acting as a reprieve to the grimy urban streets and imposing gray skyscrapers. The sun glittered off the surface and winked back at them.
It was a beautiful sight, but Maggie and Emily couldn’t stop and stare. Maggie nodded to her charge as a group of middle aged runners approached, and together they joined in the back, heading south and towards the bottom of the reservoir.
“What will happen if they catch us?” Emily asked, puffing.
“It won’t come to that,” promised Maggie, eyes trained for any signs they’d been found. The park was a big place, but Aleksandar had a whole crew of trained professionals after them.
Beads of sweat formed across Maggie’s forehead as she ran. September in New York City wasn’t like London, where the cold swooped in like an unwelcome house guest who stayed until Spring. The last of the Summer’s sun bore down on them with each step, with only the breeze of the wind offering a light reprieve.
The track opened out when they arrived at the south gate house of the reservoir five minutes later. The stone building looked out into the park, one of the picturesque bridges residing at the foot of the steps leading up to the house. But that wasn’t what caught Maggie’s attention.
Two men in suits spotted her and Emily from under the bridge. They broke into a run the second they saw them, mouthing into earpieces, jackets flapping in the wind.
“Run,” Maggie warned, and urged Emily forward, back into the running track. A cluster of tourists had stopped by the water to feed a family of ducks with torn pieces of pretzels, taking snaps of the little birds on their cellphones.
Maggie barged into them and cleared a gap for Emily, not stopping to explain. A few of them fell into each other amid their rabble of complaints and cries, but Maggie didn’t care. They’d create a diversion, blocking their pursuers, even if only for a couple of moments. Those precious moments could be the difference between life and death.
Emily held on to the side of her waist. “I can’t keep running.”
“You must,” said Maggie, scooping her arm into Emily’s and forcing her to move. She risked a glance behind her to see the men in suits. Two had become four, a second pair of Russian’s following up behind the couple who spotted them.
They were fast. Faster than Emily.
Maggie grit her teeth and checked the baton she stole was still tucked in her waistband. It wouldn’t be much against a set of guns. As they ran, she made sure to use innocent passersby to block them from being direct targets. Maggie only hoped they wouldn’t risk taking out a civilian to reach them.
A branch broke off from the running track fifty yards down and Maggie herded Emily to take the cut off, merging back on to Bridle Path.
The Russians’ footsteps pounded behind them, yelling and getting closer.
“They’re too fast. There’s too many of them,” cried Emily between pants. She was getting slower, fatigue and fear settling in.
Maggie closed her eyes and focused on the map she studied on the flight over. Knowing your way around was a vital part to any mission. The grid system made New York easier to navigate than most cities. They were at the bottom of the reservoir now, which put them five or six blocks down from the Russian Consulate.
The transverse.
“Left,” said Maggie, warning Emily before they made the turn. There was no direct pathway from their position, causing them to barge through a thicket of trees and bushes. Bare branches snagged at Maggie’s clothes with reaching fingers, but she surged on, holding tight to Emily’s hand.
“They’re right behind us,” Emily warned.
Maggie could hear their panting breathes, much more controlled than Emily’s. Like Maggie, they could go on for miles. They wouldn’t slow down. They wouldn’t stop. Not until they caught them. Not until she and Emily were dead.
“Jump!” Maggie yelled when the thicket stopped. She didn’t wait for Emily to comply. Instead, she gripped the girl’s hand tighter and took her with her as she leapt over the edge of the bushes and dropped down into the middle of a street.
Emily screamed, but the drop wasn’t far. She landed on her knees, tearing the thin material of her leggings and skinning her knees. Maggie pulled her up and crossed the street. Emily’s injuries could wait. Right now, it was her very life she was concerned about.
The 85th Street Transverse veined through the middle of Central Park, snaking from East 85th Street on one side, to West 86th on the other. Right bang in the middle of said street was the 22nd Precinct Police Station which was exactly where Maggie was headed.
Two officers stood by the front gates of the precinct. While Maggie doubted that the NYPD’s finest boys in blue would be a match for Aleksandar’s men, she was desperate and out of options.
Above them, ruffling came from the bushes and the first of the gang of Russian’s broke through.
Maggie and Emily hurried towards the police officers and Maggie slipped on a mask of terrified innocence. “Officers! There are men following us and they have guns. They tried to force us into the back of a van.”
One of the officer’s heads snapped behind them and spotted the Russian cohort. He spoke into his radio and called for backup before stepping in front of Maggie and Emily and heading towards the approaching men.
The officer’s partner turned to Maggie and opened the gate. “Ma’am, you and the girl go inside and stay there until it’s safe.”
“Okay,” said Maggie, stepping through the gates with an arm over Emily’s shoulders.
She backtracked as soon as the officer ran to meet his partner, and left the precinct as five more policemen and women came to help their colleagues out.
The police couldn’t help them. Though they made a good distraction while Maggie and Emily hurried down the street and headed towards the Upper West Side.
Chapter 7
By the time they emerged from Central Park, it was clear to Maggie that Emily wouldn’t last. Her feet dragged a little more with each step, breathing labored, and face wincing from the stitch in her side.
Maggie checked over her shoulder. There had been no further sightings of Aleksandar and his men, but that didn’t mean they weren’t close. They needed to get off the streets and out of sight as soon as possible.
Which meant the subway.
They used the pedestrian crossing to avoid unwanted attention. Cops were everywhere, and no matter Maggie’s views on how ludicrous an offense jaywalking was, the last thing they needed was to get stopped and charged for being in a hurry.
The 86th Street station was closest, and Maggie and Emily merged in with the crowd as they travelled to the terminal. Yana may have been mugged, but not Maggie. Paying for two tickets with fresh bills, she and Emily waited for the C train and hopped on. Maggie double checked the lines depicted in the car’s interior once they’d found a seat. Five stops and they’d be at 42nd Street. From there, the E train would take them to Lexington Avenue, leaving them a short two-minute walk to the British Consulate.
The car was filling up fast, and Maggie kept an eye on each passenger who stepped inside, evaluating their threat level before moving on to the next. None of them were Aleksandar’s men.
The car was fuller than Maggie liked, passengers squeezing to fit in like sardines even though the one next to it lay empty. Having visited the city several times, Maggie knew that meant the smell was unbearable, thanks to what was usually the result of someone throwing up or using the floor as a toilet. City life had its glamorous side, but public transport wasn’t one of them.
Maggie turned to Emily, checking her red knees. The blood had stopped, but the open skin would need cleaned. “Are you okay?” she asked.
Emily nodded, arms wrapped around her waist.
Maggie tucked some of Emily’s braids behind her ear. Fear was painted over her young face, the remnants of childhood still in her round cheeks. She was holding up well, all things considered. Homework and petty arguments with friends should be the extent of worries for a girl so young. Not being scared for her life.
If the Russian’s had their way, this would be the last day Emily ever saw, her last moments spent with people who’d held her captive.
A dark thought shadowed Maggie’s thoughts and her nails dug into her palms.
“Emily, did anyone…” Maggie stopped, trying to find the right words.
“Touch me?” Emily finished for her. She shook her head. “No. I would have torn their eyes out if they tried.”
Maggie smiled with chagrin. While girls needed to be aware and ever watchful in today’s world, it pained her to think about the necessity of it. A child’s innocence was such a fragile thing, and Maggie knew more than most the ways in which it could be torn from them.
Emily seemed to calm a little while talking, so Maggie kept her chatting. “What age are you?”
“Twelve, but I’ll be thirteen in a few weeks.”
“A teenager,” said Maggie, the idea of having an infant never mind a teen hitting her like a ton of bricks. Emily was her responsibility right now, but taking care of the life growing inside her would be a full-time job.
Emily sighed. “Yeah, I’m getting old.”
“I know the feeling.” Maggie grinned. “I like your dress.”
“I don’t,” Emily groaned. “My mom made me wear it for the party. I still wore my Chucks, though.” The hint of a mischievous grin tugged at the corner of her lips.
Maggie nudged her. “Rebel. What was the party for?”
“Some boring thing for some boring colleague of my mom’s. She’s a human rights lawyer.”
Which explained why Emily found herself at a party with a UN official. It wasn’t lost on Maggie that Emily could tell her more than Jonathan Cole and Danielle Hawkins.
“And you saw something?” Maggie asked. “Something bad.”
Tears filled Emily’s eyes. “Yes.”
Maggie wiped Emily’s eyes dry with the sleeve of her shirt. While Maggie’s curiosity about the assassination was strong, she didn’t want to upset her further. Especially not in public with prying eyes.
“Do you work for the UN, too?” Emily asked.
Maggie shook her head, and filed the tidbits of information with what else she knew.
“But you were hired to come get me?”
“Something like that,” admitted Maggie. Even with the panic and deadly situation she found herself in, Emily didn’t miss much. Her mother had raised her well, and although Maggie had been trained to keep charges at an emotional distance, she couldn’t help but warm to the girl.
“I don’t even know your name,” Emily said.
“I’m Yan—” Maggie stopped. “My name is Maggie.”
“Maggie, do you think I can go home now? I wanna see my parents.”
“Soon.” Maggie took Emily’s hand and gave it a squeeze.
The car slowed down for the first stop at 81st Street, right by the Museum of Natural History. People got on and off, a mixture of bored looking locals and excited tourists trying out the famed underground system for the first time.
Four more stops, a switch in line, then another four stops. They’d both be safe soon, and Maggie could return home to deal with her own predicament. So many things were about to change.
Just as the doors made to close again, three men in suits squeezed through in time before the train set off again.
Maggie tensed and swore under her breath. Aleksandar headed towards them with a sneer on his face, and two men at his back.
There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.
They were locked in until the next stop.
“Thanks for getting me out of there,” Emily said, who hadn’t noticed the Russians’ arrival.
“You’re very welcome,” said Maggie, standing from her seat. “It’s all part of the job.”
Emily stared up at her. “What is your job?”
Maggie took the baton out from her waistband and flicked it open.
“To keep you safe.”
Chapter 8
Maggie held out her hand. Emily took it without question, and gasped when she spotted the problem.
Aleksandar and his men moved with a singular focus, their eyes trained on Emily.
“Come on,” Maggie said, leading Emily down the car.
They opened the doors and entered the next one, the Russian’s close behind them.
Drumming pounded in Maggie’s ears with each step. The train was in motion. They couldn’t get out. Not until the next stop, and by then it could be too late.
Emily stumbled forward, tripping over feet and shopping bags blocking their way. They carried on through to a third car, but they were out of options.
Maggie closed her eyes. “Shit.”
There were no other cars left. They were in the last one with nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.
“Maggie,” Emily whimpered, as the car door opened and Aleksandar stepped inside with his goons.
There was nothing for it.
“Stand over in the corner and crouch behind the seats. Cover yourself as best you can and don’t move.” It was the best Maggie could do for now.
Emily complied and ran to the very back of the car. Maggie straightened her back and stared down her opponents.
The air changed, and the passengers seemed to sense something was wrong. They looked up from their phones and stopped talking to their partners, each searching for the cause of instinctual unease.
Aleksandar cleared his throat. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry to bother you, but things are about to get very messy in here. It’s best that you find another car for the rest of your journey.”
New Yorkers didn’t need to be told twice. Trouble was coming, and no one wanted to be around to get caught in the crossfire.
A young man in Timberland boots and a hoodie stopped by Maggie as the others left. “Yo, ma’am, these guys don’t look so happy to see you. Do you need help?”
Maggie kept her attention on the Russians. “They’re the ones who’re going to need help.”
One of the goons lun
ged for her then, and the would-be-Samaritan sprung forward before Maggie could stop him. The goon dodged his uppercut with ease and took him down with a roundhouse kick that caught the young man’s temple.
Aleksandar’s laughter echoed through the empty car as the civilian crumpled to the floor. “All you’re doing is slowing us down.”
Maggie straightened and twirled the handle of the baton, keeping it loose in her dexterous hands. “If you want the girl, you’re going to have to go through me.”
Aleksandar arched an eyebrow. “As you wish.”
The three men moved as one, Aleksandar’s men stepping in front of him to head the charge.
Maggie waited until they were almost upon her. Jumping, she grabbed the metal bar above her and shot out a kick to one of the men’s chest.
The blow connected and sent him reeling back into his boss, knocking Aleksandar to the dirty floor with him.
As both the men untangled from each other, Maggie turned her attention to the third. He was ready for her as she landed back on his feet, sending a jab her way. It clipped Maggie square in the face, too late to raise her hands in defense.
A trickle fell from her nose and Maggie tasted blood on her lips.
Before her opponent could land another hit, Maggie ducked, dodging his second punch and swung her baton. The weapon caught the man at the side of his face with a satisfying crunch as spittle, blood, and teeth flew from his mouth and spattered across the glass window.
Aleksandar was on his feet again, and he and his remaining guard stepped over their fallen comrade.
The guard reached for the gun at his side and Maggie lashed out with her baton. It crashed against his arm and she felt the bone snap upon impact. A kick in the solar plexus sent him careening to the floor with his colleague, evening the playing field to one on one.
Hands grabbed Maggie’s hair and pulled her back with enough force to send her stumbling back. Strands ripped from her roots and she hissed in pain as Aleksandar manhandled her towards him.
The Witness Page 5