The Edge of Armageddon

CHAPTER EIGHT

Drake struck the concrete of 47th Street, running flat out with only eighteen minutes left on the clock. Immediately they were presented with a problem.

“Seventh, Eighth or Broadway?” Mai shouted.

Beau waved the GPS at her. “Marea is close to Central Park.”

“Yes, but which street leads us right past it?”

They hovered at the sidewalk whilst the seconds ticked away, knowing Marsh was readying not only the nuke, but also the teams who would take two civilian lives for every minute they were late to the next rendezvous.

“Broadway’s always busy,” Drake said. “Let’s do Eighth.”

Alicia stared at him. “How the hell would you know?”

“I’ve heard of Broadway. Never heard of Eighth.”

“Oh, fair enough. Where—”

“No! It is Broadway!” Beau abruptly cried in his almost musical accent. “Restaurant is at the top… almost.”

“Almost?”

“With me!”

Beau set off like a hundred meter sprinter, vaulting a parked car almost as if it wasn’t there. Drake, Alicia and Mai stayed hot on his heels, turning east towards Broadway and the intersection where Times Square shimmered and shone and flouted its flickering displays.

Again the crowds were difficult to part and again, Beau led them along the side of the road. Even here, tourists congregated, leaning back to scrutinize lofty buildings and billboards or trying to decide whether to play chicken with their lives and dash across the busy road. Touts worked the crowds, offering cheap tickets to various Broadway shows. Languages of every color filled the air, an almost overwhelming, complicated medley. The homeless weren’t many, but those who advocated for them campaigned very loudly and forcefully for donations.

Ahead, Broadway thronged with New York’s citizens and visitors, dotted by crosswalks, bordered by colorful shops and restaurants with their hanging, illuminated signs and A-board displays. Passersby were a blur as Drake and his section of the SPEAR team raced on.

Fifteen minutes.

Beau stared back at him. “Nav says it’s a twenty two minute walk, but the sidewalks are so packed everyone’s walking at the same pace.”

“Then run,” Alicia urged him. “Waggle that enormous tail of yours. Maybe it will make you go faster.”

Before Beau could say anything, Drake felt his already plummeting heart sink even further. The road ahead was entirely blocked, both ways, and mostly by yellow cabs. A fender bender had occurred and those who weren’t trying to drive around it were inching their vehicles out for a better look. The sidewalk to either side was a crush of humanity.

“Bloody hell.”

But Beau didn’t even break stride. An easy leap took him onto the trunk of the nearest cab and then he was running across its roof, jumping down to the hood and taking a running leap onto the next in line. Mai followed fast, and then Alicia, leaving Drake at the back to be shouted at and targeted by the vehicles’ owners.

Drake was forced to concentrate beyond the norm. These cars weren’t all the same, and their metals shifted, some were even rolling slowly forward. The race was hairy, but they leapt from vehicle to vehicle, using the long line to make headway. Crowds stared from either side. The good thing was they were unobstructed up here, and able to see the approaching intersection of Broadway and 54th, then 57th. As the crush of cars eased out, Beau rolled off the last car and resumed his sprint along the road itself, Mai at his side. Alicia glanced back at Drake.

“Just checking you didn’t fall through that open sunroof back there.”

“Yeah, dicey one that. I’m just thankful there were no convertibles.”

Past another crossroads and 57th was lined with concrete mixer trucks, delivery vans and red and white barriers. If the team had thought they’d gained ground, or that this run would be as straight forward as the last, their illusions were abruptly shattered.

Two men appeared around the side of a delivery truck, handguns pointed straight at the runners. Drake didn’t miss a beat. Constant battle, years of combat, had honed his senses to the max and kept them there — twenty four hours a day. The threatening forms registered immediately and, without hesitation, he flung himself headlong on top of them, right in front of the oncoming cement truck. One of the guns rattled away and the other became stuck under one of the men’s bodies. Drake reeled back as a punch battered the side of his skull. Behind them, he heard the screech of the cement truck’s wheels as it braked hard, the cursing of its driver…

Saw the enormous gray body swinging around towards him…

And heard Alicia’s terrified scream.

“Matt!”