The Edge of Armageddon

CHAPTER TWENTY

Drake charged though into the main hall of Grand Central station. The vast space yawned to left and right and high above. Shiny surfaces and polished floors were a shock to the system, departure and arrivals boards flickered all around and the rush of humanity seemed incessant. Beau reminded them of the name of the café and showed them a floor plan of the terminal.

“Main concourse,” Mai said. “Turn right, past the escalators.”

Rushing, twisting, performing amazing acrobatic feats just to avoid a collision, the team tore through the station. Minutes passed. Coffee shops, Belgian chocolate stores and bagel stalls whipped by, their combined aromas making Drake’s head spin. They entered what was known as Lexington Passage and started to slow.

“There!”

Alicia sprinted now, squeezing through a narrow entry into one of the smallest cafés Drake had ever seen. Almost unconsciously his mind ticked off the tables. Not hard, there were only three.

Alicia pushed a man wearing a gray overcoat aside, then fell to her knees beside the black surface. The top was littered with a discarded clutter, the chairs set back slapdash style. Alicia felt around underneath and soon came up holding a white envelope, her gaze hopeful.

Drake had been watching from several spaces away, but not the Englishwoman. Instead, he had been surveying the staff and the customers, those who passed outside — and one other place in particular.

The door to the back office.

It opened now, an inquisitive female figure poking her head out. Almost immediately she locked eyes with the only man staring right at her — Matt Drake.

No…

She held up a portable phone. I think this is for you, she mouthed.

Drake nodded, still watching the entire area. Alicia ripped open the envelope and then frowned.

“This can’t be right.”

Mai stared. “What? Why not?”

“It says — boom!”