Maybe I was being paranoid, but I doubted it.
Keeping my expression neutral, I glanced at the cars beyond, not letting on I’d made them.
“Got a match,” Jacob said after only thirty seconds. Jonathan Kirk. Former special forces. He fell off our radar about a year ago. Apparently he’s been operating without a leash.”
“Merc?” I eyed Broadway, but I’d lost the car.
“Yeah.” Jacob paused, but I could feel what was coming next. “Most recently, he’s been doing wet work.”
“
I ran, picking and dodging between people on the sidewalk, the phone still pressed to my ear.
“Was Morrissey part of the package?” I asked.
“Yes. Came with the deal.”
A hum rose in my ears. I’d invested myself in protecting Julie, not just because it was my assignment, but because I’d started to care. The possibility that I might have been set up from the beginning to deliver the girl to her death made me grind my teeth.
“Jacob? Are we being used here? Who’s the VIP?”
“You’re thinking Kirk was brought in on purpose?”
“It occurred to me.”
“We don’t have any evidence that Kirk’s working for the VIP. A third party could have intercepted Morrissey before our agency was brought in.”
Of course, Jacob was right. But often playing devil’s advocate could help sort through confusing or complicated situations like this one. I was hoping that strategy would work now, because I was confused as hell.
I kept moving, rimming Columbus Circle, my mind racing as fast as my feet.
“Or Kirk could have taken out Morrissey himself, maybe with the VIP’s blessing.”
When we’d been in the limo, Kirk had a chance to kill Julie and me. But that would have been a mistake. First of all, driving around with two dead chicks in your car wasn’t safe. Second, killing me would have brought a shit storm down on him and whoever controlled him. Better to wait until the heat died down and let me deliver her, thinking the op had ended there.
“He must need her alive,” I said.
“Agreed. Kirk has had sniper training. He could have taken her out without involving you at all. Or you could have been ordered to do it.”
I hesitated. Could I have killed Julie if that was my assignment? Probably not. But there were other female assassins they could have assigned in my place, women who didn’t have a history similar to Julie’s and wouldn’t hesitate to complete the job.
“So why lie to us about the father?”
“It’s the government, Chandler. I think lying is merely the default setting.”
“I don’t like being lied to. Or used.”
Jacob paused for a beat before replying. “I do have one thing. The assignment was routed through the defense department.”
“So the VIP is someone in the Pentagon? Or is it the Pentagon itself?”
“Don’t know. I’m trying to find more.”
And maybe, if I could catch up with Kirk, I could do the same from my end. “Thanks, Jacob.”
“Good luck.”
I stuffed the phone back in my pocket and eyed the streets leading off the circle.
I wanted answers.
I also wanted to make sure Julie was safe.
But apparently I wasn’t the only one looking for her.
The SUV holding the men I’d noticed earlier was just inching onto Broadway.
Cabs clogged the flow of traffic like cholesterol in a fat guy’s bloodstream, but not one had its light on indicating it was for hire. Even if I could flag down a ride, traffic was moving so slowly, I’d never catch the men I’d pegged as Middle Eastern operatives, let alone Kirk. He’d be long gone and so would Julie.
I needed to find another way, and running wasn’t cutting it.
The jingle of a bell caught my ear, followed by a voice speaking heavily accented English.
“Out of the way. Move!”
I spun around just as a bike/cart combination drew even with me, one of the pedicab drivers I’d noticed earlier taking a couple of tourists into the park. I shot out a hand and grabbed the handlebars, wresting the vehicle to a halt.
“Get off,” I said evenly.
He stared at me as if I’d lost my mind.
“Get off. Now.”
I grabbed his left hand and jammed his wrist backward. Using the leverage, I twisted his arm and his whole body moved to the side and off the seat.
“Okay, okay, take it,” he said.
He also held up his wallet. Only in New York.
I released him, climbing onto the seat.
“Hey, you can’t do that, lady!”
The couple in the cart. I’d almost forgotten them.
I shot the man a hard look. He was in his fifties, soft around the middle, with a bulbous nose, sitting next to a woman who had the exact same face, only twenty years older.
“You and your mom get out,” I said. “This is your only warning.”
“You’re stealing this man’s bike! I’m calling the cops!”
“Call them, Walter!” Mom chimed in. “And make a citizen’s arrest!”
Neither got out.
“Your choice.”
I drove the balls of my feet down on the pedals. Pedestrians in the crosswalk scurrying out of the way, I cut across Central Park West and skirted the edge of the circle and onto Broadway.
“Stop!” Walter yelled. “You’re under arrest!”
North of Columbus Circle, Broadway turned into a boulevard, traffic flowing both up and down town. The faux Morrissey had headed uptown, I suspected on his way to the expressway and maybe the Bronx or New Jersey.
I couldn’t let him make it out of Manhattan.
“Tell her to stop, Walter!”
“Stop!”
“Tell her again!”
“Stop!”
“She didn’t hear you! Tell her again!”
“I said stop!”
“My son said stop!”
Ahead, vehicles choked the street, barely moving. Brake lights flared red. I cranked the bike to the right and jumped the curb onto the sidewalk. The bike’s front tire shuddered, and it was all I could do to keep the handle bars steady. The back cart followed, jolting, and the couple let out squawks of surprise.
“She won’t stop, Ma! I told her to stop, but she won’t stop!”
Forcing pedestrians to dive out of the way, I skirted two food carts and bounced off the edge of a trash can.
I regained my balance and thrust down on the pedals with all my strength, gaining speed. The cart rattled
