06 Double Danger (33 page)

Jillian wasn’t sure where she was exactly. Only that she’d followed the assassin after she’d seen him disappear behind a metal shelf in the back of a closet and had emerged into what appeared to be a passageway running behind the walls of the conference room’s mezzanine.

The wallpaper was old and peeling, and some of the exposed boards in the ceiling and floor were rotted
through. Whatever the original purpose of the passageway, it had clearly been abandoned long ago. And it wasn’t easy to make progress, but she knew the man couldn’t possibly be that far ahead of her. So she quickened her pace, shining her penlight ahead of her and keeping her back toward the wall as she picked her way around the rotting debris.

A part of her wanted to turn back. To wait for help to arrive. But she’d seen Simon diving for Bilaal and knew that his safety was their primary objective. Which meant that Simon couldn’t possibly come to her until he knew for sure that Bilaal was out of harm’s way. So waiting would mean losing the killer. And she couldn’t let that happen.

She slowed as she approached a junction in the passageway, holding position for a moment, then risking a look around the corner. Another hall stretched off to the left, this one continuing straight ahead. Peering in both directions, she strained for some sign of which way the shooter might have gone, but everything was eerily quiet. So she headed left, praying that she’d chosen correctly, knowing that she couldn’t afford to let the killer get too far ahead.

There were openings along the way. What appeared to have once been doorways. But all of them were either boarded up or sealed off with heavy metal grating. And everything was caked with dust. She rounded a second corner, this time hitting a dead end, the wall abruptly terminating into a huge pile of debris.

With a sigh of frustration, she turned back, hurrying until she reached the intersection, this time continuing to follow the original passageway. It twisted and turned for
another hundred feet or so with only two doors along the way. Both of them sealed shut.

At one point, she came to a huge section of the floorboard that had fallen through, and she had to brace herself against the wall to inch by. Once safely on the other side, she questioned her sanity, but quickly pushed the thought aside. There wasn’t time for second thoughts. If she didn’t keep moving, the killer was going to get away.

Just ahead, a large wooden archway loomed out of the shadows, fading brown paint covering the rotted surface. Beyond the arch, the hallway veered sharply to the right, and Jillian sucked in a breath, preparing to step around the corner, gun leading the way.

But just as she tensed to move, something hit her from behind, and she fell to her knees, her gun clattering across the floor, disappearing into the shadows.

“Get up,” a deep voice ordered, a hand yanking at her hair.

She kicked out, fists flying, trying to get a hold on her assailant, but the man quickly pulled her against his body, one arm circling her neck. She jerked her arm back, intent on slamming him in the gut with an elbow, but he only tightened his hold, pinning her in place.

“Do that again and you’re dead,” he said, his voice cold and flat. “The only reason you’re still alive is that, should I need it, you’ll provide a handy ticket out of here. But make no mistake, if you cause me any problems at all, I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

S
imon slammed his hand into the wall, anger and frustration threatening to overwhelm him. He’d looked everywhere, and there was no sign of her. And no sign of any other way they could have gotten off the mezzanine. It was is if they’d simply disappeared into thin air.

He’d sent Danya back to get help. The rest of the team should be onsite by now. But there wasn’t time for him to wait. Jillian needed him now. There had to be another way out of here. He just needed to find it.

He blew out a breath, forcing his heart rate to slow. Anger wasn’t going to help anything. He had to focus. He’d searched every inch of both sound booths as well as the walls lining the hallway. There was no sign of a door—hidden or otherwise. Which left the closet.

Still fighting off the pain in his leg, he stepped inside the tiny space, the back wall lined with metal shelving. Every shelf was overflowing with junk. There appeared
to be no room for egress of any kind. But appearances could be deceiving, the voice in his head whispered.

Simon pressed forward, shoving aside a broom and a mop so that he could move all the way to the back of the closet. And it was then that he realized the shelf wasn’t actually sitting against the wall. Instead, it was about two feet in front of it, and directly behind it, centered in the damn wall, was a hole about four feet wide and six feet high.

“Son of a bitch,” he whispered as he pushed through the hole and stopped on the other side, the phone in his pocket vibrating. Activating the Bluetooth headset, he answered. “Kincaid.”

“It’s Hannah.” The sound of her voice was like manna from heaven. “Harrison managed to get around the jamming.”

“Jillian is missing,” he said, pulling out his gun and switching on the tac-light. “She’s just disappeared.”

“I know. I’m downstairs. The security guard you sent filled me in. Have you made any progress?”

“Yeah, I’m in some kind of passageway, I think. I got here through a closet. It must be how the assassin got in. And why Jillian’s disappeared. I’m guessing she’s following the shooter.”

“Makes sense,” Hannah said. “There’s a whole series of passageways running behind the walls of the building. I’ve got the blueprints in front of me. Originally they were designed as a network for servants. A way for deliveries to be made without being seen. They were abandoned years ago.”

“So which way do I go?”

“Straight ahead,” Hannah said. “There’ll be a turnoff
in a few yards, but ignore it. You’re headed for a staircase just on the other side of an archway.”

Simon nodded, fighting to keep from running, the rotting floorboards combined with the pain in his leg making it impossible to maneuver as quickly as he’d like. At one point, he had to edge around a large hole where the floor had given away all together, but once on the other side, his light picked up the archway.

“I’m here,” Simon said. “What now?”

“There should be a sharp turn to the right, and then just beyond that, you should see a doorway leading to a set of stairs.”

He maneuvered around the corner, but stumbled as his foot hit something. Stopping, he bent down, his light sweeping across the floor, his heart stutter-stepping when he recognized a gun lying next to the baseboard. The same make as the one Jillian was carrying.

“I’ve found what looks to be her gun.” His voice faltered as he picked it up and slipped it into his pocket. “But there’s no other sign of her.”

“Well, at least we know she came this way. Which means we’re on the right track.” Hannah’s tone was businesslike, but he could tell that she was as worried as he was.

He swept the light across the hallway again, and finally satisfied that it was truly empty, he ran forward, not caring about the danger anymore, sliding to a stop again when he found the door to the stairs. “Okay, the stairs are here, just like you said.”

“Go down,” Hannah said, her voice crackling a little as he began to make his descent. “Just keep moving until you get to the very bottom. You’ll be in the basement of the
building, but still in the hidden passageway. According to the blueprint, the hall at the bottom will terminate at a door leading outside the building—directly onto the FDR.”

“So that’s how he got in,” Simon said, taking the stairs two at a time, careful to keep his light trained on the risers to make sure he didn’t fall through a rotten one.

“Yeah. On a normal day, you couldn’t possibly access it without risking death by traffic accident. But with the highway closed, it makes for a perfect way in and out. And the damn thing was sealed up so long ago, I doubt anyone has thought about it in years.”

“Well, thank God we found it,” Simon said, as he passed the first floor landing still heading down. “If we’re right, and that bastard’s got Jillian, I don’t have much time to find her. He’ll only keep her alive as long as he’s worried about being intercepted.” The thought sent a cold spike of fear stabbing through him, but he shook it off.

“I think I’m near the bottom of the stairs.” He rounded the final turn and stopped, the steps abruptly ending, the bottommost risers completely rotted away.

Shining his light on the floor below and using the railing to push off, he leaped down, landing hard, but staying on his feet, fighting through another surge of searing pain. “Okay, I’m here,” he said. “Which direction?”

“With the stairs directly behind you, turn right,” Hannah instructed. “Any sign of Jillian?”

“Nothing so far,” he said. “In fact, except for the gun, there’s been no sign of anyone. How much farther?”

“About ten yards. You should be able to see the door any minute.”

“I’ve got it,” Simon said, breathing hard as he threw it open, the bright sunlight making him squint.

It was weird stepping out onto the highway, even without cars. The road stretched across with three lanes on each side, and he stopped for valuable seconds trying to decide which way to go.

“There’s a pier just across the highway and down to your right,” Hannah said, and he silently blessed her for reading his mind. “It’s a water taxi landing, but it hasn’t been running since they shut the FDR down. However, there are some private docks as well. And if I was trying to make a quick escape, that’s where I’d head.”

Simon nodded, already heading across the lanes for southbound traffic, then running down the median toward the landing before crossing the final northbound lanes. There was a running path on the far side, and, ignoring the protesting pain, he accelerated into a full-out sprint when he hit the asphalt. Ahead of him, he could just make out two figures struggling as they moved across the landing toward a large cabin cruiser anchored just off a small jetty.

“I think I see them,” Simon said. “They’re heading for a boat. I’m closing the distance, but I don’t think I’ll be in time.”

“Just keep moving,” she urged him. “Drake and Avery are coming in just down from the pier. They were heading for the highway from the access ramp on Thirty-fourth. So at least you’ll have backup.”

“Won’t matter if he gets her on that boat before I can get there.”

As Simon rounded the corner onto the landing, he saw the figures ahead of him detach, one of them clearly trying to pull away. He lifted his gun, but the distance was too great and the bodies too close together. Out of the
corner of his eye, he saw Drake and Avery, but they were even farther away than he was.

The two figures continued to fight, and Simon managed to close the distance enough so that he could see the sun glinting off Jillian’s hair. And then the man she was fighting grabbed her by the waist, hoisting her up and over the railing onto the cruiser.

Simon fired, but the shot went wide, and the man leaped over the railing and onto the boat, the motor roaring to life as he pulled the first mooring rope free. Simon couldn’t see Jillian, but he could see the killer, the man concentrating on the second rope, the tension from the boat pulling it taut, making it more difficult to untie the knot holding it in place.

Taking advantage of the moment, Simon pushed forward, his injured leg muscle screaming with pain, but he ignored it, his only thought to reach Jillian. He was probably less than fifteen feet away when the rope suddenly gave, and the boat was free, roaring away from the dock.

Jillian felt the boat moving beneath her and struggled to push to her feet, to fight to escape. She knew that the farther the boat got from shore, the more likely her fate was sealed. The killer had his back to her, coiling up the mooring ropes, but there was nothing at hand to use as a weapon. The deck was empty. And he was twice her size. Better to just use the opportunity to try for the side. If she could jump into the water, maybe she’d have a fighting chance.

Eyes glued on the man in front of her, she pushed to her feet, using the side of the boat to balance herself, fighting against a wave of dizziness. She’d hit her head
when he’d thrown her on board, and her vision was blurry, her mind foggy. But fear urged her onward, a shot of adrenaline temporarily giving her a boost.

With both hands on the railing, she climbed up, lifting a leg to throw it over, but before she made it, the boat jerked forward, and she fell backward onto the deck again. The man grabbed her around the shoulders, pushing her toward the front of the boat as it pulled away from the jetty.

Glancing behind her, she saw Simon standing on the quay, and just for a moment, her heart filled with hope, and she opened her mouth to scream. But before she could utter a sound, the world went black, her last cognizant thought that she’d never told Simon how much she loved him.

“Over here,” Drake called, but Simon barely heard him, his mind on Jillian and the rapidly departing cruiser. Leveling his gun, he shot after the boat, knowing he was too far away to hit it, but needing to do something—anything—to make him feel less impotent.

“Simon,” Drake said again, this time his voice cutting through the haze of self-pity and rage. “Come on. Avery’s commandeered a boat.”

The words sank in, registering, and Simon spun around in time to see Avery maneuvering a small speedboat next to the jetty. Drake was already climbing aboard. Crossing the distance in two strides, Simon jumped onto the back of the boat just as Avery hit the throttle, and the little racing boat began to skip across the water in pursuit of the cruiser.

“We have to hurry,” Simon yelled above the noise of
the engine, knowing it was a blinding glimpse of the obvious, but his frustration made the words still necessary. “If they make it into the harbor, we don’t have a chance in hell of catching them.”

Avery nodded, gunning the engine as Simon made his way forward to stand beside Drake, all three of them watching the cruiser in front of them.

“How are we fixed for weapons?” Simon asked, pulling his gaze back to Drake.