by Barber, Tom
He turned to find the girl standing there, staring at him. She was out of her pyjamas, and dressed in a white t-shirt and blue dungarees, white sneakers on her feet.
‘Who are you?’ she asked.
‘My name’s Archer.’
He offered his hand. She thought about it, then stepped forward and shook it.
‘I’m Jessie.’
‘Pleasure to meet you. Do you have all your things?’
‘Archer. Like a bow and arrow,’ she said, ignoring his question.
‘That’s right. Where’s your Mum?’
‘She’s finishing packing up. Apparently we’re going on a trip tonight.’
‘We are.’
‘Are you coming?’
‘I think I am.’
‘I want to stay here, but Mom said I couldn’t.’
‘Where’s your dad?’
‘He’s not here. He’s in Heaven.’
Archer paused.
‘I’m sorry.’
She nodded. ‘Do you have a dad?’
‘I did. He’s in Heaven too.’
At that moment, Katic reappeared. She had a holdall swung over her shoulder, lightly packed, enough for one night. She was still dressed in her dark work-suit, but her hair was now loose and over her shoulders. She looked great.
‘Ready to go?’ she asked, with a smile.
Archer went to reply, but something suddenly made him stop.
He paused.
He heard something, a soft noise outside the front door.
A creak.
In the same instant, he ran forward, scooping up the girl, and pushed Katic into her bedroom, slamming the door.
And behind them the lock on the front door exploded.
Houses in the old neighbourhoods like the East Village were often as dry as tinder, and fire escapes had been installed to provide safe passage if someone inside the building was trapped or found themselves in trouble. The architects probably hadn’t envisaged escaping gunfire when they installed the metal steps, but danger was danger, whatever its form.
Katic ran to the window, pulling it open, whilst Archer locked the door and grabbed a chair, jamming it under the handle. Katic had swept the girl up in their arms and she was already outside, making her way rapidly down the metal steps. Archer backed up fast to the window, and heard rushing footsteps and the reloading of a shotgun, a double-crunch as another shell was racked into the barrel. He grabbed the Sig from his pocket and fired five shots through the wooden door, splinters bursting from the door into the air, the empty shells flying out the ejection port of the weapon, the air stinking of gun-oil and cordite, the gunshots echoing in the air. It would buy them time. Whoever was on the other side of the door didn’t know what to expect from inside the bedroom.
Archer ducked outside and hurtled down the metal stairs, and heard another boom as the shotgun blew the lock off the bedroom door. In the courtyard below, Katic had fired the engine in her car already and Archer jumped off the rail, skipping the last flight and dropping to the ground. He raced over, pulling open the passenger door and jumping inside.
‘Go!’ he said.
She didn’t need an invitation. She was already flooring it. There was another boom, and Archer heard a smash as one of the brake-lights was hit. Jessie screamed, covering her ears, as her mother screeched the car forward. They were facing 1st Avenue on 14th Street, the opposite side they had arrived, and the car sped down the street. Archer looked over his shoulder, past the girl on the back seat, and looked up at the top of the fire-escape as it came into view.
There were two men standing there.
One had white tape and a splint over his nose, and a pump-action Ithaca in his hands.
Another man was with him. He was older, with red hair, and was also brandishing a shotgun.
They stood there, side-by-side, watching them go.
It had been close.
Too close.
They got lucky with the traffic lights, and hit a green straight away, and Katic sped on over 1st Avenue, speeding down 14th Street towards 2nd, headed towards Union Square. She turned a hard right when they got to 3rd, and they moved off uptown, gaining more and more distance from the apartment. Archer breathed a sigh of relief and checked Katic and the girl in the car beside him. Jessie was in tears, upset and scared, but both of them were unharmed.
‘It’s OK, baby, it’s OK. I’m here,’ Katic said, reaching behind and rubbing her daughter’s leg as the girl sobbed, terrified. As the girl grabbed her mother’s hand, Katic turned to Archer.
‘Who the hell was that?’
SIXTEEN
As they headed uptown and Jessie began to calm down, Archer and Katic discussed where they could hole up as the car sped on through the streets, putting more and more distance between them and the apartment. Katic had plenty of friends and colleagues in the area, but right now neither of them knew who they could trust. They also didn’t want to draw anyone else into the danger unnecessarily.
As they talked, the streets flashing past, she realised she’d left her purse and cash at the apartment, so Archer would have to cover them financially. He didn’t have much on him but he had a room booked in his name at the Marriott in Times Square. They decided to head straight there to hole up and figure out what to do next. But whatever they did, they had to get off the road immediately. They had a busted tail-light courtesy of the shotgun blast. If an NYPD cop pulled them over, he would be very interested to say the least when he discovered who was inside the car.
To avoid the vast amount of cops swarming in and around Times Square, Katic drove up 8th Avenue and approached the hotel from the west. They moved through the entrance to the parking lot under the Marriott building itself on 45th and reversed into an empty slot on the first lower level, Katic applying the handbrake and killing the engine.
Before they got out, the two of them sat there and figured out a plan, Katic reaching around her seat and holding Jessie’s hand to comfort her. They couldn’t stay in the room booked under his name. Gerrard had known where he was staying and Siletti would probably have got the information out of him before he killed him. So they worked out their options, Jessie climbing over to sit in her mother’s arms, scared, hugging her.
Katic came up with an idea. They examined it from every angle, and decided it was a good one and the best they could come up with. Satisfied, they stepped out of the car, the rear of the vehicle parked against the wall to conceal the busted tail-light. Katic quickly helped her daughter out and shut the door, smoothing her hair down and wiping away her tears, reassuring and hugging her. Then taking her daughter’s hand, Katic locked the car and the three of them headed up to the lobby.
Upstairs, Archer stayed with the little girl whilst Katic approached the reception desk. Together, they watched her speak to the receptionist then take her to one side, showing her badge, and feeding her a story of how she was in witness protection and was in charge of the man and child with her. As agreed, she said that they needed to use the reservation under Archer’s name, but switch rooms and change his name on the record. Archer saw the receptionist was eager to assist, excited to be involved, and with a child present she couldn’t be more happy to help. He didn’t mind about the room switch. He had travelled light, and apart from a suit, he hadn’t left anything in the old room that couldn’t be easily replaced. During the brief conversation between Katic and the receptionist, Archer felt Jessie’s hand slide into his. He looked down at her and smiled, squeezed it gently, reassuringly.
After the receptionist complied and passed them a fresh key-card, the trio reunited and walked through the lobby into the heart of the building, Jessie releasing Archer’s hand and taking her mother’s again. Katic had done a great job calming the girl down on the way here and in the basement, and Archer saw Jessie was looking at the giant interior of the building in awe, distracted, her fear momentarily forgotten. He didn’t blame her. It was an incredible sight.
The lobby was spectacular. As you
looked up, you could see the floors one-by-one, white and lit up golden by lights lining each floor. In the middle of the lobby, a square column served as the pillar for the elevators to slide up and down, ferrying guests back and forth in small capsules, like something out of a space-station you’d see in the movies. The place was white and golden, like a different world. Jessie’s eyes were as wide as saucers, her mouth open as she stared up. Archer had done something similar when he’d first walked in here himself. And given their current predicament, staying here was perfect. It was like a giant hive, endless floors with endless rooms, and in a city this big they could tuck themselves away and hide out for the evening, hidden from sight and high above the streets.
The three of them moved to the elevators just as one arrived at the ground floor. The doors opened, and a group of people stepped out mid-conversation. The trio let them pass, then stepped inside the empty capsule, looking like a young family. Katic hit the button for 21, and the doors shut. Jessie watched out of the windows, excited, as they moved rapidly up and up into the hotel, her face an inch from the glass pane.
Soon enough they arrived on 21 with a ding, and the doors opened to reveal the 21st floor. They walked down the corridor, headed for 21 G, having been directed by the receptionist. They arrived outside the door and Katic pushed the card in the lock. It clicked and a small light on the panel turned from red to green and they moved inside, Archer pushed the door shut behind them and pulled over the latch. If someone the other side really wanted to get in, the locks wouldn’t hold, but it would buy them an extra few seconds and whoever was on the other side would make a hell of a lot of noise breaking in. The room was freshly cleaned, the bed sheets neat and white and smooth, and the bathroom was spotless. Katic led her daughter to the bed and dumped their bags there. She gave the girl a hug and kiss then moved to the bathroom, switching on the bath taps, and started to run Jessie a bath.
As water splashed from the taps into the bathtub, she came back out and joined Archer who was looking out of the window, checking the view. She walked past him, and slid open the door to the balcony, beckoning him to join her. He did so and she slid it shut, out of earshot from the child who was watching the television, the remote in her hand. Up here they could hear honks from horns down below and the light whisper of the wind blowing across them.
‘Jesus Christ Archer. What the hell is going on?’ she said quietly, standing in front of him.
‘As we drove away, I saw who was on the fire escape. It was Siletti and another guy. Red hair, looked older, in his forties.’
She looked at him.
‘You’re sure?’
‘Positive.’
‘Oh shit. That’s O’Hara.’ She sat down in a white chair behind the table on the balcony and ran her fingers through her hair. ‘Jesus Christ, him too?’
‘Where does Lock live?’ Archer asked her. ‘The sixth guy on the team.’
‘He’s in Brooklyn. I tried him earlier, when you and Jessie were talking in my apartment. He wasn’t picking up.’
Archer didn’t speak. He watched Katic start piecing things together, putting together the jigsaw. He said nothing, letting her mind work, undistracted.
‘This is all starting to make sense,’ she said. ‘It was around November last year when we started bringing Farrell and his team in for questioning. We worked them one-by-one, trying to sweat them out or coerce some information. We were a new team so everyone was keen to prove themselves and be the one to make a breakthrough. But they got to know our faces, our names, our personalities. We weren’t working as a cohesive unit, given the competitiveness between us, so there were cracks there.’
She paused.
‘Suppose Siletti and O’Hara meet with Farrell one-on-one, far away from our offices at the Plaza. Remind him about all the heat that’s coming his way. Suggest they strike up a deal. He agrees. The two feds talk Farrell through what to look for and where the Task Force is focusing their attention, and promise to stall the investigation as much as they can. In return, Farrell gives them a slice of the profits so they all get something from the deal.’
She shook her head and looked up at him.
‘What do you think?’ she asked.
Archer looked down at her. ‘I think they both know that Farrell and his team are planning to skip town tomorrow. I think they’re planning to leave too. And now they’re tying up all the loose ends. Parker might have known something, or Siletti thought he might, so that was enough for them to kill him. Gerrard too. And Lock. Not taking a single chance.’
Katic looked up at him.
‘You think?’
‘He’s not answering his cell phone. How does it look?’
‘So they are the ones who killed your father. Jesus, Archer, it was them. It had to be.’
He took a seat and thought for a moment.
‘Yeah. I guess it was,’ he said. ‘I’m an idiot. All this time, I was looking at Farrell and his team, but they had nothing to do with it.’
‘You said that Siletti and O’Hara will know Farrell is leaving tomorrow?’
‘I’m sure. They would have sweated Gerry for everything he knew before they greased him. They’ll know that Farrell and his crew are going after the truck tomorrow and their plan of escape.’
‘After tonight, you think Farrell will still try?’
Archer nodded.
‘Tonight was their first ever failure. This time tomorrow they’ll be gone from this city forever. They’ll never come back here. They are definitely going to try. They’re too greedy. The risk will be worth the reward.’
‘What about the bodies? Parker? And Gerrard? And Lock? There will be a big investigation. Huge. That’s three feds waxed in one night.’
‘That won’t matter. They’ll disappear. They’ll either take out Farrell and his crew and steal their money and their transport or hitch a ride with them. They wouldn’t start killing everyone on the team unless they knew for sure they were never coming back here. They have it all worked out.’
He paused.
‘But there are two problems. Three, actually.’
‘What are they?’
‘You, me and Jessie. They can’t leave with us still alive. At any moment you or I could go to the cops or contact people in Washington. They’ll be tearing the city apart right now looking for us.’
There was a pause as they both absorbed everything that had just been said. Down below, the sounds of the city provided a familiar background noise, a total contrast to the random and unexpected events of the evening.
And somewhere down there, two violent men were prowling the streets with guns, searching for them, desperate to kill them.
‘So what now? What do we do?’ Katic asked. ‘We need to go higher up. We need help from D.C. We have to talk to someone before they track us down.’
‘We need to stay here for the night,’ Archer replied, looking over the balcony down at Times Square. ‘We go back out there, we might not come back. And I’m a fugitive remember? The entire NYPD is after me too, not just those two. I’m staying put, with a gun pointed at that door till morning.’
‘We can’t just sit here, Archer. They’ll find us sooner or later. We need to tell someone about this.’
Archer thought for a moment.
He’d trusted Gerrard, and he was gone.
Katic had trusted Siletti, and it had almost got them killed.
Their next move had to be perfectly played. Because sooner or later, they were going to run out of luck.
And if they trusted the wrong person, all three of them would die.
‘OK.’
She looked up at him. ‘OK what?’
‘I know who we can call.’
‘Who?’
‘He’s on our side, I guarantee. I’ll be right back,’ he said.
He slid open the door, moving past the girl who was engrossed in a T.V show on the screen, and over to the door. He realised the taps on the bath were still running, so he stepped insid
e the bathroom first and twisted them off. Walking to the main door, he pulled back the latched lock and stepping outside, shut it behind him.
Outside in the corridor, he checked both ways. It was quiet.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled a number, walking towards the end of the corridor, checking to make sure no one else was around.
It rang four times.
On the fifth, someone answered.
‘Hello?’
‘It’s Archer,’ he said. Pause. ‘I’m in deep shit. I need your help.’
There was a pause.
Archer checked left and right down the corridor, his fingers curled around the grip of the 9mm Sig in his right pocket. He heard a rustling down the phone, and light footsteps as the man on the other end moved out of his bedroom.
He heard a door open, then close, and a click as a light was switched on.
And the voice spoke again from the other end.
‘OK, Archer. Tell me what’s going on,’ Director Cobb said.
SEVENTEEN
It took Archer about fifteen minutes to explain his predicament. The United Kingdom was five hours ahead, so he’d woken Cobb at just past 5 am London time. But in about ten seconds, from the moment he picked up the phone to walking into the next room and speaking again, the Director of the ARU had all his faculties and was awake and alert. Like most powerful people in senior government and security positions, the time of day was just a series of numbers. It didn’t matter. If there was a problem, they were awake and ready to deal with it in seconds.
Cobb listened closely as Archer explained the situation. He told him everything, leaving nothing out. The first meeting with Gerrard. His subsequent involvement with Farrell. Their successful series of bank robberies and armoured truck heists, and their planned final getaway. The Garden heist. And everything that had happened since. Siletti double-crossing them, the damning evidence in his trunk. Parker’s dead body and Gerrard’s disappearance. O’Hara joining Siletti and coming after the three of them at Katic’s apartment.