Pestilence (Jack Randall #2) (39 page)

“Off and on since I got back. Figured if I could drive a Hummer halfway to Bagdad I could handle the streets here. Sometimes it’s not much different, ya know?”

“Yeah, I can imagine.”

“Anything I should know?”

Jack shook his head. “Not really. I’ve been waiting to meet a man all day. If he should show, just roll with it okay?”

“Got it.”

•      •      •

The Deliveryman passed a fellow bike messenger going
against
the one-way traffic and they performed the obligatory wave as they flashed by. He changed lanes so he was out of the middle and gaining on the cab in front of him. He rose up in the pedals and looked over the cab, judging the traffic in front. They were a block or two short of Wall Street and it being just after the market closed on a Friday, it was crowded with messengers. Now was the time.

He cranked the pedals and pulled up next to the cab, grabbing onto the B-post between Jack’s window and the driver’s as they all moved down the street. He looked down to see Jack’s startled face.

“Hello, Jack. Don’t speak, just take off the pack and show me what’s inside.”

Jack closed his mouth and complied. He tore the seal open and unzipped the backpack, holding it wide open for the man’s scrutiny. Once the man looked and smiled, he shut it and simply waited.

“Fair enough.” The Deliveryman unbuckled the pack from his back and slid it around in front of him, the vials making noise as they tumbled on one another. Jack cringed at the sound. He opened it to show Jack a bag full of vials.

“We do this at the same time,” he said. Jack grit his teeth but nodded in agreement.

They both placed the identical bags on the frame of the window and with a nod exchanged them. The Deliveryman added a small bag hanging on his handlebar before zipping the bag closed and slinging it over his back.

“Good-bye, Jack. Nice doing business.” He let go of the window and pedaled into traffic, leaving the cab behind.

“Greg, it’s the bike messenger! He just did the exchange and he’s moving up Williams! Red and black shirt! Black bike! Wearing a white helmet! He exchanged the backpack for a duplicate.”

“He just turned west on Pine!” Jerry added.

Jack rooted through the bag quickly and got a count. There were only half of them here! There was also a note. He quickly unfolded it and read it out loud.

“Location of the rest when I’m clear,” Jack read aloud. “Shit. Are you tracking him, Greg, he only gave us half the stuff!”

“We lost the signal! Can you follow him?”

Jerry looked over his shoulder. “That thing he dropped in the bag before he closed it?”

“Yeah . . . Damn it!”

“What do you want to do?”

Jack shook his head and gazed out the window before returning Jerry’s gaze.

“Can you catch him, Jerry?”

Jerry’s face cracked into an evil grin. “I thought you’d never ask.” He quickly swiveled around and gripped the wheel. “Hold on.”

Jack scrambled for a handhold as the cab jumped the curb and darted around the gridlock and into the intersection. With one hand on the horn, Jerry spun the tires as they took off after the man on the bike.

•      •      •

Greg was in a frenzy of activity. After the constant movement from place to place all afternoon he had been caught by surprise by the rapid exchange.

“Bravo two, do you have signal?”

“Negative, no signal on the package.”

“Alpha two?”

“Negative also.”

“Anyone have a visual?”

All he got was silence. “Damnit people! How did we lose him so fast? I want a six-block perimeter around his last location. Guy on a bike with a black backpack. Red and black shirt and a white helmet. Find him!”

“Charlie three, I’ve got two that match that at Wall and Pearl.”

“Charlie seven, I’ve got one at Gold and John.”

Greg looked around the unit in confusion, “What the hell?”

“A uniform maybe? Do those guys wear uniforms?” Sydney offered.

“I don’t know,” Greg answered.

“What do we do?” Sydney asked.

Greg thought about it for a few seconds while he stared at the screen. More locations were being called in and the dots were popping up on the screen.

“Fuck it. Start arresting people! Stop every one of them and hold them!”

Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned.

“You heard me! Do it!”

Everyone scrambled to comply.

Greg turned back to the screen and tried to figure out his next move. Somehow the man had defeated the tracking device and had also found a way to not only disguise himself, but to move through heavy traffic quickly. It was so simple it was stupid and he kicked himself for not seeing it sooner. He still had one chance though.

“Where’s Jack?”

New flu resembles feared 1918 virus.
July 22, 2009 Reuters
 

—THIRTY-FIVE—

T
he Deliveryman pedaled hard. When he heard screeching tires behind him, he had looked back in time to see Jack’s cab jump the curb and just miss getting hit as it crossed the intersection after him. Just his luck, Jack had found a cab driver crazy as he was. He had thought of this when he planned the exchange and now increased speed in order to ditch the cab.

At the last second he made his turn onto Pine and angled up on the sidewalk. Jerking the front wheel up, he climbed the two short flights of stairs and angled between the large flower pots at the top. He had to stand on the brakes to avoid a crowd of people, but he quickly recovered and angled right around the fountain and headed for the gap between the buildings. He was essentially cutting diagonally across an entire city block, and there was no way Jack could follow.

•      •      •

Jerry pounded on the horn again as he cut across the front of traffic and made a left on Pine. Jack had crawled into the front seat, doing his best to keep the Deliveryman in sight as he pedaled through traffic. He shut his eyes involuntarily as they just missed a delivery truck parked in the street. Jerry pulled up onto the curb on the right and stopped just in time for Jack to see the Deliveryman pedal away at the top of the stairs. The stairs were shallow and the car could certainly make it up them, but the heavy concrete flower pots at the top could not be breached.

“Damn it!” Jack moved to get out but was stopped by Jerry grabbing his arm.

“Don’t leave yet, Chief, Jerry’s not out of tricks yet. Hold on, we’ll catch up to him on Liberty.”

He grinned again as he once more leaned on the horn and gunned the engine. People in suits and street vendors all scrambled to get out of the way and he and Jack were roundly cursed, as only New Yorkers could deliver, as they jumped the curb back into the street and headed west on Pine. Jerry gunned the engine and hit the horn as they raced up the block, barely keeping between the parked cars lining both sides. Jack waited for a door to open in front of them, but they made the intersection without hitting anything or anybody. Jerry used every inch of the open intersection and put the car into a controlled drift around the corner before slamming on the brakes.

There was construction going on to the building on the right and a large dumpster blocked half the street, making the narrow opening even worse. Two workers were carrying a load of wood across the street while another stopped traffic. The two men froze at the sight of the car, unsure which way to exit. The man blocking traffic just held up a hand with a sneer. Cabs could all wait in his view.

That view changed when Jack leaned out the window with his badge in his fist.

“Move your ass! Now!”

The men quickly changed their minds and found new strength, moving the materials aside before staring after the cab as it raced by. Jack returned his view out the windshield just in time to see the Deliveryman ride down the stairs at the end of the block. He quickly crossed the intersection and headed west on Liberty.

“That street’s one-way. We’ll get jammed if we follow him!” Jerry shouted. Before Jack could answer he stood on the brakes and slid to a stop. Slamming the transmission in reverse he spun the tires as they backed up a few yards.

Sydney’s voice suddenly sounded in his ear.

“Jack, where are you?”

“Where the hell are we, Jerry?”

“West on Cedar at Nassau! He’s west on Liberty heading for Broadway!” Jerry replied as he spun the wheel.

“Did you get that?” Jack asked.

“Got it. We’re north of you. Southbound on Broadway at . . . Fulton.”

“Where are the damn birds? We can’t get some eyes on this guy?”

“These streets are like canyons, Jack and they’re over thirty stories deep. A lot of shadows. They’re trying. Can you see him?”

“Not right now.” Jack grunted as Jerry swerved around a double-parked car. His eyes widened as Jerry showed no signs of stopping as they approached Broadway. Jerry leaned forward and judged the traffic. Evidently making a decision he tapped the brakes enough to loosen the rear end before sliding sideways into the intersection. Jack closed his eyes and waited for the impact.

•      •      •

The Deliveryman was sweating now. Moving up Liberty against traffic was bad enough and he had been shocked to see the cab just half a block away when he had rounded the corner of Manhattan Plaza. From the elevated position he could see the cab clearly and had been lucky that the one-way street was right in front of him. He wasn’t sure if Jack would try taking a shot at him in these crowded streets, but he didn’t really wish to find out. He spotted an NYPD cruiser parked on the corner but there was no sign of the officers. A Starbucks on the corner was their most likely location. Foot traffic on the sidewalk was not as heavy as the vehicular traffic, so he jumped the curb between two cars and continued west. As he approached Broadway he cut across the corner past the big orange cube with the hole in it and looked north to find a gap in the traffic which he could use to cross Broadway. On the other side was Zuccotti Park, really just a landscaped concrete gap in the surrounding high-rise buildings with a few trees, but it allowed him some cover. He could now hear sirens echoing off the buildings coming from the north. It was impossible to determine just how far away they were.

He saw a suitable gap in the traffic and made for it.

•      •      •

Jack opened his eyes to find the cab in the middle of the intersection and aimed north, facing oncoming traffic. Several cars screeched to a halt and there was one minor impact. Jerry had placed the cab in park and was now sitting in the window on his side looking north over the traffic. Jack quickly matched him on his side.

“I don’t see him!” Jerry shouted over the multiple horns and yells of the drivers. One man exited his car with the obvious intent of killing Jerry, but Jack waved him off with his badge. Jack scrambled out the window and stood on the cab’s hood. He scanned the street before him and the park off to their left, but saw nothing.

“You think he turned?” Jerry asked.

“I don’t know. Any idea where he might have gone?”

Jerry had the entire city firmly implanted in his head, but after a few second’s thought just shook his head. “There was nothing but buildings on his route. No place to go unless he turned around.”

“Or stopped?”

“Maybe.” Jerry shrugged.

Jack was just about to jump down from the hood when he saw a flash of color dart out into the traffic. The cars were now going around the cab to his right and traffic was moving again. He followed the biker and got another look as he jumped up on the curb and entered the park.

“That’s him!” Jack pointed. “Let’s go.”

Jerry dropped back into his seat as Jack dove into the passenger side. Jerry spun the wheel and they were once again racing down Cedar Street.

•      •      •

Sydney pounded the dash in frustration as the driver fought his way through the traffic. They had become their own enemy as all responding units were stopping the flow of traffic all across lower Manhattan. The four fire trucks had superior sirens and weight to back them up, not to mention the universal respect of the city’s inhabitants. People tended to yield to them more readily than an unmarked panel truck with the same lights flashing. She looked at the map and was about to yell to Jack on the radio when he beat her to it.

“He’s crossing Zuccotti Park heading west!” Jack yelled in her ear.

“Got it!” she yelled back.

She looked at her map and then up at the coming street sign just in time.

“Turn right!”

The HRT driver didn’t hesitate. He just threw the truck into a sweeping right turn and they were now on John Street.

“Sydney, what the hell?” Greg emerged from the back.

She held up her map and pointed. “If he turns north on Church we can head him off. He’ll be stuck up against the World Trade Center site.”

Greg looked it over before replying, “And if he doesn’t?”

She looked into his face and frowned. “I don’t know.”

•      •      •

Walter paused to watch the fire trucks speed down the West Side Highway. There had been quite a few of them out today and he had lost count of how many times they had passed. He took a sip of his now cold coffee and watched the crews covering the concrete with sheets of plastic. The forecast had only predicted a small chance of rain, but they would cover the newly laid foundations just in case. Too much money and too many labor hours had been invested to let a little rain screw it all up. The trucks had come at a steady pace all day and he had been rushed for most of the afternoon. He now took a short break while the guys downstairs cleaned some stray mix from the dumping mechanism. It wouldn’t do to have it lock up on them right now.