by R. Narvaez
On their current course, Hicks knew they may wind up in Central Park. It would be impossible to tail him through the park without getting spotted. If Khan went into the park, that’s where Hicks would kill him.
Khan surprised him by suddenly jaywalking across to Hicks’s side of the street. It was a typical move for any New Yorker, but he did it while Hicks was exposed in the middle of the sidewalk. He stopped short and quickly went through the revolving doors of an office building.
He didn’t bother to go into the lobby for fear of losing sight of Khan, so he went through the revolving doors in one complete circle. When he came out on the street, he spotted the reason why Khan hadn’t been worrying about anyone following him.
Two men stopped short in front of the building when they saw Hicks and poorly covered up by suddenly huddling up and lighting cigarettes. They were bigger than Khan, but had his same complexion and look.
It was a rookie mistake, one most people wouldn’t notice. But Hicks wasn’t most people.
He should’ve known that trailing Khan had been too easy. Now he knew why. And now he had to figure out how to eliminate three threats without getting a lot of innocent people killed.
Hicks kept Khan as his main objective and walked on as if he hadn’t seen the two clowns following him. He’d dust them easy enough when the time came. But he’d alert Khan in the process and probably take a bullet in the bargain. No one said his job was easy.
He spotted Khan through the crowd walking west along 59th Street. He followed him as he crossed Madison, then Fifth; past a knot of tourists gathered at the entrance as he walked into Central Park.
Hicks didn’t check to see if his followers had kept up. Doing so would’ve only tipped them off and forced a confrontation. Khan was now in the park. And that’s where all of this would end.
Hicks checked his phone as he jogged through traffic to beat the changing light and lurching car traffic on Fifth. No word from the Varsity, but he figured they’d be close.
He threaded his way through a knot of tourists at the entrance to Central Park. The crowd gave him enough cover to sneak a look behind him as he pulled the .22 from the holster on his belt. His followers had been caught in the middle of the street and were trying to get through the maze of cars and buses that had crammed the intersection when the light turned green. They wouldn’t be delayed long, but maybe just long enough.
He held the gun in his jacket pocket as he entered the park. A .22 wasn’t a large caliber gun, but it was good enough to do the job in the hands of someone like Hicks.
His training and experience kicked in. He felt the situation contracting now that he was on the ground of his choosing. A skilled assassin in front of him. Two gunners behind him.
Go Time.
Hicks spotted an ambulance without sirens or lights driving along a path closed to vehicular traffic. He knew there were usually several ambulances in the park at all times, but this one passed Khan and flashed its headlights at Hicks.
Varsity was on scene after all.
He eased the .22 as his pocket as he watched Khan finally slow his pace; eyeing the slowing ambulance as it rolled by.
And he turned just far enough to see Hicks standing in the middle of the path. Aiming a gun at him.
Khan froze for an instant, just like he’d frozen that night atop the wall.
Hicks fired four shots into Khan’s chest just as he reached under his t-shirt. All four rounds hit him in a tight pattern just left of center. The shots echoed like firecrackers in the vast openness of the park.
The two men behind Hicks opened fire as Khan fell back. Hicks turned as he dropped to one knee. The men had broken left and right off the path; firing wildly. Their shots sailed high and wide. Hicks didn’t have any cover, but neither did they.
Hicks aimed at the man on his left and fired once. A clean headshot. He aimed at the second man who was shooting as he back peddled. Hicks shot him twice: once in the throat, once in the head.
Hicks ejected the spent magazine and replaced it with a fresh one as he stood. The Varsity team were already out of the ambulance, guns on Khan as he approached the fallen assassin.
Hicks noticed there was no blood from the exit wounds. As he got closer, he could see the outline of a bulletproof vest beneath his t-shirt. The impact of four rounds to the chest had been enough to knock him down and would sting like hell, but the .22 lacked the power to punch through Kevlar.
Khan’s gun – a nine millimeter Glock – had skidded away from him as fell; just as Hicks’s gun had done that night in Kandahar. Khan was reaching for the weapon when Hicks’s foot pinned his hand to the jogging path.
“I counted.” Khan sneered up at him. “You’re empty.”
“I was,” Hicks smiled. “Fresh clip.”
The Varsity team, dressed in regulation EMS gear, quickly tucked away their weapons when they say Hicks had Khan covered. Two of them went back to the ambulance and wheeled out a stretcher.
The team leader – a woman with blue eyes and blonde ponytail – remained and picked up Khan’s gun. “You were supposed to terminate him, Hicks, not wound him.”
“I didn’t know he was wearing a vest. But at least now we can interrogate him.”
“That’s not what the Dean wanted and you know it. Finish him.”
Hicks tucked away his .22. “Don’t worry about the Dean. He’ll get over it.” He winked down at Khan. “But you won’t.”
One of the techs patted Khan down; discovering another gun on his ankle and a knife before zip-tying his hands and feet. Khan squirmed like a fish as they slammed him onto the stretcher and buckled him in tight.
The terrorist struggled against his restraints to get a good look at Hicks as they wheeled him toward the ambulance. “You bastard! I should’ve killed you when I had the chance!”
“No good deed goes unpunished.”
The Varsity members closed the back doors of the ambulance and Hicks watched it drive away. Just another ambulance in a city full of ambulances. Only this one held one of the most dangerous men in the world.
Hicks knew he’d be in a hell of a lot of trouble from the Dean for not finishing Khan. He’d told him several times to carry a handgun with bigger kick, but he’d always refused. He hoped bringing in one of the most wanted men in the world alive would count for something, but he doubted it. The Dean wasn’t a man who dealt with disappointment well.
It wouldn’t be the first reprimand he’d ever gotten and he doubted it would be the last. But he always got results and, in this game, that’s what counted.
Hicks checked his watch. He still had fifteen minutes to make his appointment with the future asset. Maybe he’d cancel. Maybe he wouldn’t. He’d already done enough good for one day.
He began walking south out of the park and blended back into the changing city where no one knew what he had just done for them. Nor did they care.
And thanks to people like James Hicks, they didn’t have to.
CONTRIBUTORS
Jen Conley has had stories published in Thuglit, Needle, Out of the Gutter, Big Pulp, SNM Horror, Protectors, Plots With Guns, Yellow Mama, Beat to a Pulp: Hardboiled 2, Shotgun Honey Presents: Both Barrels, and others. She is one of the editors of Shotgun Honey and has been nominated for a Best of the Web Spinetingler Award. Born and raised in New Jersey, she lives in Ocean County, where she teaches middle school and writes in her spare time.
W. Silas Donahue is a writer based in New York City and has an avid interest in the history and operation of Grand Central Terminal.
Ron Fortier is a veteran comic book creator. He is best known for writing The Green Hornet and Terminator: Burning Earth, with Alex Ross, for Now Comics, in the ’80s. Today, he writes and edits new pulp anthologies and novels via his Airship 27 Productions. He won the Pulp Factory Award for Best Pulp Short Story of 2011 for “Vengeance Is Mine” which appeared in The Avenger – Justice Inc. from Moonstone Books.
Jessica Hall is a social worker in NYC wh
o wakes up grateful every day for her home and a hot shower.
Matt Hilton is the Cumbrian author of the Joe Hunter thriller series, including Dead Men’s Dust, Judgement and Wrath, Slash and Burn, and Cut and Run, with more books in the series coming soon. He is a high-ranking martial artist and has been a police officer and private security specialist, all of which lend an authenticity to the action scenes in his books.
J. Walt Layne resides in Springfield, Ohio, with his wife and three daughters. He is a 2008 graduate of Urbana University (Urbana, Ohio), a veteran of the United States Army, and is active in his church. His fiction work includes the Champion City Series (Pro Se Press) and the forthcoming Crimson Mask vs. Mr. Mnemonic (Airship 27). He has several fiction and nonfiction projects in the works, including political and military thrillers. His homesteading articles appear occasionally in Backwoodsman magazine, and he is a guest political columnist for The Albany Journal.
Amy Maurs (Ann-Marie DiGennaro) grew up in Brooklyn. When her goal of working as an FBI Agent or NYPD officer did not come to pass, she became a CPA. She also earned a Professional Certificate in Forensic Accounting. Is it any wonder she was drawn to write crime fiction? These days you can find her sitting front and center at the NY Chapter of the MWA meetings. With her as the registrar, no one gets in without paying.
Terrence P. McCauley is an award winning crime writer. Three of his novels Prohibition (Airship 27), Fight Card: Against the Ropes (Fight Card Books) and Slow Burn (Noir Nation Books) are currently available on Amazon.com. His short stories have been published in Thuglit, Shotgun Honey, Out of the Gutter, and Big Pulp as well as other anthologies. He is currently writing his next work of fiction. Please look for him on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TerrencePMcCauley and Twitter: @tmccauley_nyc.
R. Narvaez was born and raised in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. His work has been published by Faultline, Mississippi Review, Murdaland, Plots with Guns, Spinetingler, and DC Comics, as well as in Long Island Noir, Indian Country Noir, and Hit List: The Best of Latino Mystery. His book Roachkiller and Other Stories received the 2013 Spinetingler Award for Best Short Story Collection.
Kathleen A. Ryan is a retired 21-year veteran of the Suffolk County Police Department on Long Island.
Charles Salzberg is the author of the Shamus Award-nominated Swann's Last Song as well as Swann Dives In and his latest novel, Devil in the Hole. He teaches writing in New York City.
Seamus Scanlon is a Galway-born writer who admires the stylish noir masters like Chandler, Hammet, and Cain. His first crime fiction collection As Close As You'll Ever Be was published in 2012 to almost zero fanfare, despite a tremendous book launch at The Mysterious Bookshop in New York and a Book Salon with 18 readers at the Cell Theater. Peter A. Quinn described the collection as a masterpiece. He may have over stated the situation. It earned a starred review from the Library Journal in January 2013 and positive reviews from other publications such as The Irish Examiner, The Irish Post, and January Magazine. His novel Who Shot Who? is about to be completed.
S.A. Solomon has published short crime fiction in New Jersey Noir (Akashic Books) and other work in the Dos Passos Review, Exquisite Corpse, the New York Quarterly, etc. She’s a freelance writer on legal and financial topics. She ♥s Grand Central Terminal. You can find her day and night on twitter @sa_solomon.
Marcelle Thiébaux, born in Jersey City, is the author most recently of the historical romance novel Unruly Princess. She has stories in Twisted, Karamu, The Cream City Review and other mags. Her fiction reviews are in The New York Times Book Review and Publishers Weekly. She’s done books and articles on medieval literature, among them, The Stag of Love: The Chase in Medieval Literature; The Writings of Medieval Women; and Dhuoda: Handbook for her Warrior Son. She has written about women of all centuries, including British feminist Mary Wollstonecraft and American Pulitzer Prize winner Ellen Glasgow. At work on her next novel, Thiébaux lives with her photographer husband in Sag Harbor and New York.
R.J. (Ralph) Westerhoff, known as “Cookie” to his intimates, has been writing since he first scrawled with a purple crayon on his green bedroom wall. He spent more than two decades in advertising as a copywriter and creative director. He is currently working on pieces in both the noir and the historical mystery genres, though his success can be judged by the deep furrows of consternation scratched into his Klingon-like forehead.
I.A. Watson first passed through Grand Central in the summer of ’94. Since then he’s published the novels Robin Hood: King of Sherwood, Robin Hood: Arrow of Justice, and the forthcoming Robin Hood: Freedom’s Outlaw; Blackthorn: Dynasty of Mars and the upcoming Blackthorn: Spires of Mars; and contributed to anthologies including five volumes of Sherlock Holmes: Consulting Detective, Gideon Cain, Demon Hunter, Blackthorn: Thunder on Mars, The New Adventures of Richard Knight, Blood-Price of the Missionary’s Gold, Monster Earth, and The New Adventures of Sinbad. He even got awards or award nominations for a lot of them. He’s not claiming this was all down to visiting Grand Central, you understand, but you can see why he might want to write a story about the place for a good cause.
A full list of I.A. Watson’s publications, some free material, and lots of notes are available online at http://www.chillwater.org.uk/writing/iawatsonhome.htm
Table of Contents
Copyright
INTRODUCTION
Lost Property - by I.A. Watson
Train to Nowhere - by Charles Salzberg and Jessica Hall
Fat Lip’s Revenge - by Ron Fortier
Fortune - by S.A. Solomon
Meet Me at the Clock - by R. Narvaez
Terminal Sweep Stakes - by Amy Maurs
Without a Hitch - by R.J. Westerhoff
The Drop - by J. Walt Layne
A Primal Force - by Kathleen A. Ryan
Off Track - by Matt Hilton
Herschel’s Broom - by W. Silas Donohue
Timetable for Crime - by Marcelle Thiébaux
Mary Mulligan - by Jen Conley
Spice - by Seamus Scanlon
Grand Central: Terminal - by Terrence P. McCauley
CONTRIBUTORS