“Jake,” said a voice softly from behind him, “we’re being followed.”
Jake froze and lowered his body weight instinctively on hearing the news. “Where?” he asked inadequately, when what he wanted to know were the answers to a dozen questions to correctly identify the threat and formulate the appropriate and accountable response.
“Two behind, hanging back,” came Sebastian’s voice, the smooth concierge showing an even more surprising skill-set with each minute that passed. “Keep moving slowly.”
Jake resumed their cautious advance at the previous pace, his inherent obedience to receiving orders from senior ranks so ingrained that he didn’t hesitate for a second. Not that he felt Sebastian was a senior rank, but something in the man’s voice said he knew what he was doing, and moreover made Jake really believe it, so he did as he was told after making a mental note to ask why a hotel manager was seemingly trained in night operations.
“Keep moving,” Sebastian said in the same low voice for the others to hear. “In a while they will probably block us in from the front and then try to rob us,” he told them, hearing an alarmed noise from the traumatized Louise between Cal and Jake. Jake swallowed on hearing the words. He knew about the gang activity in Central Park to some degree, but being stationed miles—and in a tightly packed place like Manhattan a couple of miles was an eternity in terms of people and crime statistics—away from it down in the One-Three, he rarely needed the information. Plus, there was also a task force set up for that kind of thing when it rolled around as flavor of the month for the brass to throw overtime at.
Jake could imagine the CompStat meetings held at 1 Police Plaza, or 1PP as they liked to abbreviate it, where crime statistics were fed to a room full of brass and overtime budgets were thrown back casually as though money could prevent crime.
He changed his mind about his earlier decision not to give Louise a weapon, and took away the hand with the flashlight to unsnap the fastening of the compact 9mm under his left arm. Holding it out behind him to Louise he whispered, “Know how to use this?”
“Yes,” she answered, taking the small gun and nestling it in her hand. A tense minute and a half later, Sebastian muttered two last instructions and then disappeared.
“Keep moving,” he said, “and don’t hit the flashlight until I call it.” Then he was gone.
Muscle rolled his thick neck on his shoulders, put on his meanest game face, and stepped out to block the path. He could see them approaching, not clearly but more a sense of darker shadows moving amongst the dark shadows. Once more he saw the glint of reflection ahead, telling him that the gun was there and it would soon be his. Then he would be taken seriously. What he didn’t see was any reflection from the black polymer of the three Glocks in the shadows ahead. Had he known, he would have hunted easier prey.
Just as a shadow ahead stepped out and partially sky lined itself on a slight incline, so too did the two followers pick up their pace to pen in the others. Sebastian, silently tucking himself into the foliage to his left and standing stock still with his breath held, felt the two pass right by him without ever knowing he was there. He slipped out and followed the unaware marauders on practiced feet, enjoying the adrenaline more than he thought he would. Sebastian Hill, remembering a life he tried so hard to escape and one he had promised, literally on pain of death, never to return to, suddenly found himself wondering why the hell he had ever retired. Hearing and sensing the inevitable confrontation ahead, he stalked forwards and struck twice, felling the two children with savage blows to their hoodie-covered skulls. Melting back into the undergrowth, he silently circled back around with a smile on his face which bordered on evil.
“Hand over everything,” Muscle demanded confidently, flexing his upper body autonomously even though his intended victims wouldn’t be able to see him sufficiently to fully appreciate the spectacle. A rustling to their right snatched their attention as two more figures emerged from the bushes, both brandishing reflective strips of sharp metal in their hands, held low but menacingly.
“Put your weapons down and step back,” Jake told them in the unmistakable tone of voice of an eager cop. “Do it now and you can walk.”
Muscle chuckled, a theatrical show of confidence which he actually felt, and sucked his teeth. He knew that people, especially cops, lived by rules. He felt free of rules and this empowered him, made him confident that he would easily triumph in this conflict even though he had literally brought a knife to a gunfight.
Jake drew in a breath to issue his next, and final, ultimatum when Sebastian struck. “Now!” he called, prompting Jake to hit the flashlight’s switch with his thumb and cast a blinding light straight into the face of the one directly in his path.
Sebastian had worked around, smelled, and sensed the two others lurking in wait, and held his breath for them to spring their rudimentary trap. As he stepped forward and called out to Jake, he brought the butt of his weapon down onto the base of the skull of the man closest. The second one responded quicker than he expected, but he still had no chance.
He didn’t realize this, because he was a young thug; full of the exuberance of angry youth and lawlessness, but with none of the calm confidence of experience and training. He was six feet from Sebastian, which was too far away to close the distance and stab him before he could fire, and too close to have any other options. His only chance of surviving the ambush was to surrender, but he failed to grasp that. The instant he made a move, Sebastian put two rounds dead center into his chest and killed him. He turned his attention to the one in front, who still had his hands up to shield his eyes from the bright light, and took three fast steps toward him. Sebastian kicked him brutally between the legs, which would have felled almost every person, man or woman, but it had the simple effect of doubling him over. Sebastian brought the gun down where his skull met his neck, but the exaggerated muscles of his upper back prevented the full effect from knocking him out. The second blow brought the huge youth to his knees, one hand on the tarmac of the path to steady himself.
“Come on!” Sebastian told them urgently, prompting the other three to follow. They ran, eager to put distance between themselves and the failed street robbery, with the bouncing beam of Jake’s flashlight lighting their way. They didn’t stop until they were forced to when Louise stumbled and fell in the dark, then they were forced to slow their pace.
Far behind them, having heard the shots and homing in on the sound like predators in the dark, two black-clad infiltrators found the three unconscious, one dead, and one injured youths on the park.
“Where did they go?” one asked the hugely muscled boy still gasping for breath.
“Go fuck yourself,” he replied bravely, still believing that pure aggression and hostility were the only weapons at his disposal.
The man standing over him wasted no more time on questions, simply drew a bead on the likely path of his quarry and turned to put a single round into the heads of the entire crew at his feet.
RUN AND HIDE
Saturday 2:50 a.m. – Greenbrier Mountain, WV
Troy’s unit touched down at the moth-balled forward operating base in the Allegheny Mountains in the dark; their expert pilots executed the maneuvers flawlessly using night vision. Troy had been there once with Chalky, travelling there in one of their dedicated Black Hawk helicopters and escorting a small flight of Chinooks, all weighted down with underslung loads. Whilst the Black Hawks could land easily on the artificially flattened earth, the Chinooks were too large to set down so had to hover whilst they took turns to cut away their cargo straps.