A vehicle engine roared. I gestured downward and ducked behind a tree. Moments later, a black Range Rover with tinted windows tore past us, heading for the stadium. A surge of anger ran through me. I wanted to spray the Rover with rounds but didn’t want to compromise the kids. Although the second activation had killed our plans for Hart Island, we still had to fight back.
Jack crawled to my side. “Got to be them.”
“Reckon they’re after the community or us?” I asked. “We shouldn’t put everyone at risk.”
“Might be Anthony or Jerry,” Jack said. “Let’s drop this lot off and find out.”
Rick nudged in between us. “Are we coming back for those fuckers?”
“You read my mind,” I said. “I’m sick of running.”
I looked along the line and caught Harris’s attention. “Can you handle a boat?”
“Sailed one a few years ago on Lake Windermere. I’ll be all right.”
“No sailing involved,” Rick said. “You’ll be fine.”
“Take your guys and protect Lisa and the kids,” I said.
“Where you going?”
“We’ll come for you when the dust settles,” I said. “Keep within earshot of the launch point.”
A burst of automatic fire echoed in the distance.
Our group moved again in a formation similar to a World War II shipping convoy across the Atlantic Ocean. Those of us who were armed led, flanked, and protected the rear of our precious cargo: Lisa and the kids. We crossed the dry dock to our tethered boat.
Harris’s men ushered the kids into the cabin. Jack and I took up defensive positions, facing the city. Rick took Harris to the front of the cockpit to give him an overview of the controls.
“Do you think they’ve been watching us?” Jack asked.
“You mean GA? I don’t believe in coincidences. That Rover was nearly on top of us.”
“So much for bloody laborers,” Jack said. “Looks to me like they’re trying to catch anyone who survived the first activation.”
“Either Brett was lying, which I doubt, or they’ve gone off-plan again.”
The second activation led me to a few uncomfortable conclusions. Genesis Alliance had managed to get the backup base on Hart Island functional, ahead of schedule. I’d stupidly hoped that their Headquarters would turn up, kill the local goons, and leave us in peace. We had killers to deal with again, and I wondered if the global population would shrink to an unrecoverable level. Finally, if Martina had knowingly used the launch codes and was neck deep in GA, the chances of Lea being alive were slim. Jerry and Anthony wouldn’t take her along for the ride.
“Where are you going?” Harris asked.
“To find that black Range Rover,” Jack said.
“Why risk it?”
“We can’t stay out of their way forever,” I said. “Time to get on the front foot.”
“I come with you,” French said.
“You need to guard Lisa and the kids,” I replied. “If we don’t start protecting what’s left, there’s going to be nothing to fight for.”
Rick hopped off the boat. “They’re ready to go. What’s our plan?”
I narrowed my eyes. “We’ll get some ammo from the stadium and teach those assholes a lesson.”
We said quick good-byes and watched the boat plow away from the pontoon, into open water.
With a smaller group, we made quicker progress. I led us through a large parking lot to the left of Citi Field, ready for a fight.
“Look out for the fresh ones,” I said to Rick as we passed two decomposing bodies. “One played dead at the airport and killed a good woman.”
The state of the bodies littering our alternative route suggested they were victims of the first activation. I stopped fifty yards short of the tennis center. A black Rover was parked outside the main entrance.
A single gunshot rang out from somewhere inside the stadium.
“They’re still here,” Jack said.
“This one’s for my brother,” Rick said and ran for the concrete steps we’d descended half an hour ago.
His excitable streak came to the fore, and he dashed for the fire exit. I winced as his feet thumped against the concrete steps. Shouting at him to slow down and proceed with more caution would only further advertise our position.
Our suite was only twenty yards to the right of to the stairwell entrance. Rick eased the door open and slipped inside.
“I’ll grab the ammo—give me two minutes,” Jack said.
“Be careful, Jack. We’ve got goons and killers about.”
I expected to find the place as we’d left it only hours ago. Somebody had ransacked it. Our bunk beds were pulled over, armchairs lay on their sides, and smashed crockery littered the floor.
“What the fuck?” Rick said.
I shook my head, crept to the window, and surveyed the stadium.
Morgan knelt on the baseline, hands tied behind his back. Two men dressed in black stood over him. Bodies from the second activation lay spread around them. One of the men punched Morgan in the stomach, and he cried in pain. The other yanked his hair back and shouted in his face.
“Are those GA?” Rick asked.
“Dressed in black. Rover outside. I’d put my house on it.”
“Whadda we do?”
“As much as I don’t like him, he’s one of us, and they are the enemy.”
One of the men walked to the tennis net and sliced off a length of cord with a knife.
I heard Jack’s double knock and gestured to Rick to open the door. Back home, he always knocked twice and burst in, no matter who was around or what I was doing. I didn’t mind; my house was his house, and we’d spent hours in that place, drinking cans and watching movies after finishing work. Now, he entered the suite with three full magazines, looked at the mess on the floor, and frowned.
“Two GA and Morgan,” I said.
Jack pushed the curtain to one side. “I’ll take the one on the left. You two kill the other.”
I slid open the balcony door. We crawled out and squatted behind the padded seats. Shouting echoed up from the court. Fist connected with skin.
“Ready?” I asked.
Rick nodded. “You betcha.”
I swung my rifle over the seat and aimed at the goon by the net. The three of us fired in unison.
My goon dropped to his knees, clutching his side. I repositioned my aim and fired. My next round punctured the side of his head. I looked to the left. The other sprawled on the surface next to Morgan. Jack fired again to make sure. The man flinched after a round slammed into his guts. His arms fell by his sides.
“Stay alert,” I said. “Might be others.”
Morgan’s battered and swollen face looked in our direction. His shoulders sank, and the noise of his sobs drifted up to our position.
“Players’ entrance,” Rick said.
By the time I swung my rifle across, he’d already fired. Another goon dropped to the ground.
“We can’t go down there,” Jack said. “Place could be crawling with them.”
“Morgan, get your arse up here,” I shouted.
He gingerly rose and headed through the court exit immediately below us.
“Guys, he could be activated,” Rick said.
“Something tells me he followed our advice,” I said.
A minute later, somebody knocked on the door. I covered Jack and he slowly opened it. Morgan stood outside. He had swelling around both of his eyes and blood across the right cheek of his tanned face. Jack grabbed him by his shirt collar, yanked him inside, and threw him to the couch.
Morgan scowled. “Touch me like that again—”
Jack jabbed a finger toward him. “Why didn’t you listen to us?”
“Listen to you? It’s all your fault.”
I needed to split this pair up and see to it that we remained vigilant. Besides the threat of killers, three dead goons out of radio contact could spell trouble.