It seemed that they weren’t the only ones with the same idea, and the rows of empty moorings were testament to that. Sebastian peered through the light of the pre-dawn to find his own boat, breathing out a sigh of relief that it was still there. The basin operated a boat office by the café, and the others followed Sebastian’s obvious lead as he strode toward it, kicking in the wooden door without even checking if it was open. He hit the lock of a metal cabinet twice with the butt of his gun, opened it and ran his fingers over the ranks of keys until he found the right mooring number. Grabbing the keys on the big, floating keychain he turned and went back outside.
Leading the way along the wooden pier, he stopped at a small fishing vessel with a covered pilot deck and froze.
The characteristic sound of a shotgun being pumped to chamber a round chilled their spines in unison. Sebastian slowly holstered his gun and held his hands aloft as he turned.
“It’s okay, Jake,” he said, trying to reassure the young cop that he didn’t need to try and take charge. “Cal, Louise, lower your weapons.”
As suddenly as he had frozen, he now dropped his hands and laughed.
“Jesus, brother, you scared the shit out of me!” he said, stepping forward and grabbing the man with shotgun in a tight embrace. The two men rocked back and forth as they hugged it out, laughing.
“I’ve been here since midnight,” the man with the shotgun said, disengaging. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t make it.”
“Me? Come on, man…” Sebastian said, hands out wide and wearing a smile. “Nothing’s killed me yet!”
“Cal, Jake, Louise, this is my friend,” he said. “Meet Joe Wilkins. CIA”
Joe hit him in the shoulder. “Asshole, you’re not supposed to tell people that,” he said.
“That explains a lot,” Jake said, shaking the man’s hand. “I’m guessing that’s where you learned to do all that stuff?” he said to Sebastian.
“Yeah,” he replied, “retired two years ago.”
“Well, not really retired…” Joe said, smiling more broadly.
“Enough about that,” Sebastian said quickly, changing the subject. “Any calls?” he asked his former colleague.
“Nothing,” he said seriously, “protocols to head north are in play.” Sebastian turned to the others.
“We’re heading for Canada to reform. You’re welcome to join us,” he told them.
The three of them looked at each other.
“I’m going home, to West Virginia” Louise said groggily. Cal tried to be gallant and said that he was staying with her to make sure she got back safely. Jake was torn between rejoining the fight against terror and protecting civilians, but just behind the first thought came the realization that any government base would likely be a target and heading inland to get off the grid was a safer option. He wanted to say that he would head home, find his family, but he knew that the likelihood of finding them safe as he headed toward a nuclear fallout cloud was less than sensible.
“Okay,” Sebastian said, “we’ll take you to the other side of the Hudson.” He unclipped the duty belt and handed it back to Jake as he stepped down to the deck. Jake began to respond as Sebastian used the keys to open the heavy tackle box built into the boat’s furniture. Before the cop could offer for him to keep the weapon, he straightened with a compact submachine gun and slapped in a magazine before tossing it to Joe. Jake kept quiet about his offer to give up a single Glock.
They cast off inside of two minutes, Sebastian revving the boat’s engine and pointing them west. Jake stole a look into the box to see more weaponry on show before he summed up the courage to ask if he could play with another boy’s toys.
Two men dressed in black and carrying suppressed assault weapons jogged onto the pier just as the five people floated away from the wooden walkway. The leader stopped and pulled a face, knowing that his quarry had escaped, even if it was only a personal mission and not critical to the overall plan. His backup raised his weapon and leaned into it, taking a bead on the back of the vessel. A hand appeared on the rifle stock and gently lowered it before he was spoken to in Mandarin.
“Leave them,” he said, “signal the rest of the team to pull back.”
“Any chance of the Mossberg?” Jake asked, indicating the shotgun that Joe had brought with him. Joe and Sebastian exchanged a look, the latter nodding to his friend, and Jake was happily reunited with some heavier weaponry. Cal was now wearing the duty belt and the chrome semi-auto had made its way into the bag he carried.
It took them twenty minutes with the cold, watery air stinging their faces to cross. Sebastian throttled down and turned the boat to allow it to bump against a wooden pier where Joe threw a lashing line over a post to hold them steady. The three of them climbed unsteadily to dry land and turned to face the others.
“My advice,” Sebastian said seriously, “is to get a car and head west, but stay off the main road and away from big towns unless absolutely necessary. Good luck,” he said, turning away to power the boat back out into open water.
The three stood on the side of the river and watched the boat motor away, all of them wondering if they had made the right choice. To Cal, his two companions were invaluable. He was a stranger in the country, totally unaware of the customs and cultures and still not possessing even the slightest clue about how big the continent truly was.
“There’s a dealership just north of here,” Jake said, “come on.” He set off, not waiting for the others to follow. Louise was still quiet, almost catatonic and didn’t answer either of them when they spoke. Cal took her left hand after switching the Glock to his left and half pulled her along. Finding the dealership in an alarmingly empty street devoid of activity, Jake told them to wait while he looked around. Cal tried to figure out why nobody was fleeing in panic, but guessed that most had either already left or were simply asleep as normal, like the events on Manhattan didn’t affect them.
“It’s locked up,” Jake said as he returned to them. “We’ll need to break in.” Cal nodded his agreement, leading Louise after him and growing more concerned that she may be in shock.
“Jake,” he said, “she’s exhausted or in shock or something, she needs to rest.” Jake looked at her, seeing a vacancy in her eyes and pursing his lips as he thought.
“Car first, rest after,” he said.
He led them on a short lap of the forecourt, knowing that they would never get one of the premium vehicles from inside through the huge glass walls. Pointing out a pickup truck to Cal and gaining agreement, they went back to the entrance. Breaking a panel in the glass door Jake leaned in and flipped the bolts, pushing the door open over the protesting screams of glass catching on metal. Walking confidently into the sales office he repeated the actions of Sebastian on the other side of the river and forced open the key locker. He found a selection of Ford keys and took them outside to press the buttons in turn, until one was rewarded with a flash as the doors unlocked.
They piled into the truck, throwing the big price tag from the window onto the ground. Jake backed it out carefully and slid the selector into drive. Driving through the mostly empty streets and out into more open country, Cal saw the young cop nodding his head and struggling to maintain a steady 60 mph.