The Darkest Day

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.

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.