Pestilence (Jack Randall #2) (40 page)

“You still awake up there?” his safety crew asked over the radio.

His hand gripped one of the joysticks and found the button for the mic. He keyed it up with a smile.

“Just barely. You guys about done screwing around? I’m getting bored up here.”

“Couple more minutes it looks like, Walt. Hang tight.”

He could barely hear him over the sounds of the sirens.

“No problem. Hey, what’s going on in the city today? I haven’t seen that many fire trucks and PD out in a long time.”

“We’re not sure, but they’ve been running back and forth all day. Joe checked the news but didn’t hear anything. You see anything from up there?”

“No, they seem to be going in all directions.”

“Maybe a drill or something. You ready?”

“Yup.” He put down the coffee and grabbed both joysticks.

“Give her a test run or two for us.”

The bucket responded and he quickly moved it over to the waiting trucks for another load. The sirens faded from his mind as he concentrated on his work.

Warning: Oil supplies are running out fast.
August 3, 2009—The Independent
 

—THIRTY-SIX—

“S
hit!” Jerry yelled as the truck pulled out in front of them. Past the truck they could see that traffic was at a stop on Church Street. Lower Manhattan was in gridlock due to all the emergency vehicles trying to get through. Everyone was confused and just trying to get to their destinations. Jack watched helplessly through the park’s trees as the Deliveryman pulled away.

“Damn it, Jerry, do something!”

Jerry looked from the street in front of them to the park on their right.

“Jack, you better back me up when this is over.”

Before Jack could ask, Jerry spun the wheel, jumped the curb and entered the park. He laid on the horn as they slalomed through the trees and down the broad steps. Pedestrians scrambled out of the way of the mad cab driver and Jack just held on for his life as they bounced over the steps. He could barely make out the figure on the bike as the scene through the window bucked up and down, left and right. For some reason his gaze was drawn to the meter as it billed him for their impromptu trip through the park. The bottom of the cab made a metallic tearing noise and the cab suddenly got louder as they ducked around even more trees. The park had a gentle slope, too, and they met short flights of steps every twenty yards or so. Somehow Jerry stayed in control as they plummeted over one flight after another. They avoided the last set of four and bounded out onto Liberty going the wrong way.

Here Jerry’s skill and luck became moot as the cab could take no more punishment. The right front tire blew as they impacted the curb and Jerry managed to steer them into a parked car rather than the stunned people on the sidewalk. Traffic in the intersection, while moving slowly, still managed to swerve into each other in a vain attempt to avoid an accident. The streets in all directions became an instant parking lot.

“You okay?” Jack asked.

“Yeah, I’m sorry, Jack. Damn tire blew.”

“Don’t be,” Jack replied as he scrambled to climb out the window. He hung his badge around his neck as he climbed up onto the roof and gazed west.

•      •      •

The Deliveryman was busy weaving in and out of the gridlock when he heard the crash behind him. Taking advantage of a small straightaway he gazed over his shoulder to see the vehicular carnage in the intersection. If it had not been for the slightly downhill grade of Liberty Street next to the park, he may not have beaten Jack to the intersection. The sight of the cab coming at him through the park had almost caused him to crash into a parked car. Jack was obviously determined to catch him. Maybe he should have just given him all the vials to begin with instead of keeping ten with him? He fully intended to leave them at the marina in a dock locker and phone Jack the location as soon as he was in the blue water.

He smiled as he saw Jack climb up on the roof of the cab. He was obviously on foot now and had no way of catching up to him. He would be back at the boat in a couple of blocks and then out of the city soon after. His plan was working.

Or, so he thought. Just as he turned his attention back to the road a car door opened directly in his path. Its owner’s wrist was crushed by the bike’s front wheel as it impacted the handle and the Deliveryman was thrown clear over the framed window and onto the concrete. The bike with its now mangled front wheel and twisted handle bars came to rest in the car driver’s lap as he screamed in pain.

The helmet saved his head, but the impact of his body with the door frame had broken a rib or two on the right side and the Deliveryman now lay in the street, gasping for breath as he stared up at the sky. The view was quickly blocked by pedestrians gazing down at him. He could see their mouths moving, but could not make out their words. Willing his legs to move, he was relieved to have no pain as they responded. He unbuckled the helmet chin strap in an effort to breathe easier.

“elp me nup.”

“What did you say, son?” a man asked.

“Help me up.”

“Are you sure?” The man reached out a hand and pulled even while he asked.

“I’m okay,” he managed to croak. Once upright he looked back to where he saw Jack. He was no longer standing on the cab, but was now running through the crowd toward him.

The Deliveryman pushed the man aside and ran down the street away from Jack. Within a few yards the pain in his ribs told him he would not be able to get away on foot. He needed a place to hide, somewhere he could shake Jack. The stores on his left were nothing but single storefronts, if he entered one he would be trapped. On the other side was the World Trade Center construction site. He really had no choice.

He grit his teeth against the pain and vaulted up onto the fence where there was a gatepost. Using the gatepost, he picked his way over the barbed wire at the top and dropped down into the site, yelping in pain as he rolled to his feet. He moved quickly behind the trailers and other parked equipment and was soon lost from sight.

•      •      •

“Syd, he’s jumped the fence into the World Trade Center site! I lost sight of him! Have the cops surround the site. Nobody leaves! Stop all the construction traffic too!” Jack yelled into the mic as he ran down the street. People all stared after him. While strange people were not unusual to New Yorkers, an FBI man running down the street screaming at someone that evidently only he could see was new. Jack slowed when he came upon the wreckage of the bike. The driver of the car was cradling his broken wrist and cursing while the others were gazing through the fence into the construction site.

“I got it, Jack,” she replied.

“Where did he go?” Jack asked the people still there.

They all tried to answer at once until Jack waved them all quiet and pointed to the man who had helped the biker.

“He just jumped the fence and ran behind that blue trailer. I haven’t seen him since.”

“Okay. Okay. Was he hurt?”

“I thought so, but he sure went over that fence with no problem,” the man replied.

Two NYPD officers approached from the west. They had abandoned their cars and followed the chase on foot until they found Jack. An HRT helicopter buzzed over the site and began to circle the area.

Jack addressed the two cops. “I need you two to secure the entrances. Get all the help you can on the radio and surround this place. Tell them I’m going in after him.” Jack paused and pulled out the collar of his shirt and spoke into it. “You get that, Syd?”

“We got it, Jack,” Greg answered. “I have the chopper overhead and the team from the truck is securing the entrance on the north and east sides. Wait for her, Jack, she’s almost there.”

“What?”

“Look behind you.”

Jack turned to see Sydney running toward him, complete with body armor and an HRT jumpsuit. She ran up and stopped with a smile. She wasn’t even out of breath.”

He checked her face. She looked determined. Okay.

“He crossed here, you ready?”

“Yeah.” She moved to climb the fence.

“Wait.” One of the cops stopped them.

Jack turned to see the man stripping off his own vest. “You’re about my size, right?”

“Thanks.” Jack donned the armor and accepted Sydney’s backup pistol from her ankle holster. It felt small in Jack’s hand, but it was better than the derringer for what they were doing now. He thumbed the slide back and saw gleaming brass in the chamber.

“Ready?” He got a nod and a bit lip in return before she turned to climb the fence. Jack quickly followed and was surprised to get a helping hand or two from the crowd. He looked back through the fence to see Jerry grinning back.

“Go get him, Jack. Just don’t forget.”

Jack just smiled back. “Forget what?”

“You still owe me for the ride.”

“I’ll come find you when I’m done here.”

“Okay.”

With a shake of his head, Jack turned and followed Sydney to the cover of the first trailer. They quickly slipped around it and were lost from sight.

•      •      •

The Deliveryman was quietly cursing his luck as he surveyed the workers standing around the truck. The maze of construction equipment and building materials on the other side of the road was what he needed. If he could just get there he could maybe make it to the other side of the site and exit close to the marina. His only other choice was to exit the site somewhere else and hope to hide in the city until he could get to the boat. Although the days weren’t getting longer, it would be dark in just a few hours and that would be to his advantage. He slipped the backpack from his back and rooted around inside. The bag he had dropped in contained two items. One, a device that gave off a signal that defeated most tracking devices. He couldn’t be sure if it was working or not, but he had no doubt the backpack contained at least one. He didn’t have time to search for it right now. The other item was a small handgun. He pulled it from the bag and palmed it in his gloved hand. With a last look at the stack of bonds he zipped the bag shut and slung it back on his back.

He had to move. The longer he stayed in one place the more cops they would surround him with. Mobility was his best friend. He eyeballed the men around the truck again. He could approach them and with the gun take control of the truck. Maybe even drive it right out the door? But the men all had radios on their belts. They would have the word out before he got fifty yards.

The decision was made for him as the men all climbed into the cab or up onto the flatbed and the truck soon moved off down the road. As soon as it was around the corner he bolted for the stacks of materials. His ribs screamed in protest, but he had learned to ignore such pain long ago.

Flow of investment dollars to farms seen growing.
June 23, 2009—Rueters
 

—THIRTY-SEVEN—

W
alter caught the movement of the running man out of the corner of his eye and turned his head in time to see him disappear into the stacks of materials in the supply yard. He immediately felt something was wrong. First, the man was not dressed as his fellow ironworkers, and second, he was running. Nobody ran on the site. It was against the regs. The dangers on the site were high and potentially lethal. They could come from any and all directions. A running man had no way of watching for all these dangers and that was why it was never done.

He stopped the crane with the bucket safely in the air and keyed the radio for his ground crew.

“Hey, Bobby.”

“Yeah, Walt?”

“I just saw some guy run across the road and into the stacks in G-8. He’s not one of our guys. Maybe you better call security and go find him?”

“Say that again?”

Walter rolled his eyes before keying the mic again. “Listen. I just saw a guy run across the road and into the supply stacks. He’s not one of our guys. Wearing a black and red shirt and a backpack. I can’t see him now, but he’s gotta still be in there.”

“Okay, buddy, I’ll call security and they can hunt him down.”

Walter took a last look toward the stacks were the man had disappeared but saw nothing. He was about to grab the joysticks and resume moving cement when his sharp eyes caught some more movement. This time he watched two people climb the fence on Liberty Street and run across the gap toward the trailers. They both had black vests on and what looked like guns in their hands. He saw what were obviously two NYPD uniformed cops on the sidewalk. They made no move to stop them or follow.