Pestilence (Jack Randall #2) (38 page)

Jack stared out the window at the park as it moved by. The cab driver wasn’t the aggressive type and Jack had some time to think. He studied the folded map of the city in his hands and tried to predict where he might be headed next.

One billion worldwide face starvation.
November 15, 2009—CNN
 

—THIRTY-THREE—

J
ack did his best to ignore the eyes on him. His outfit and backpack screamed tourist to the casual observer and he got a few strange looks as he stood on the corner. He had arrived a few moments ago and had carefully scanned the buildings and surrounding people but nothing jumped out to his trained eye. He didn’t really expect anything. He had no doubt that this was one of several stops he would make today. Sooner or later he would be told to leave the backpack somewhere or hand it off to someone. He could only comply with the man’s demands at this point and hope the vials he was carrying did not become damaged during the exchange. He had made it very clear to everyone on the team that the recovery of the vials was priority one. The capture of the Deliveryman and the money were a distant second and third. There had been some muttering in the ranks, but he had been adamant. One way or the other, it would most likely be over by the end of today. Jack looked up just as an HRT helicopter flew overhead. As the sound faded he heard the phone ringing in his hand.

“This is Jack.”

“I would hope so, Jack. Very good job on your first assignment. Now if you would just dance for me once again.”

Jack raised his arms and moved in a slow circle, which only drew more strange looks from the people around him.

“Satisfied?”

“Yes, Jack. Time for another cab ride. This time let’s go to Washington Square Park. Check out the coeds, maybe play a little chess.”

“You’re enjoying this?”

“Not really, Jack, just trying to keep things light. Get out on MacDougal and walk through the park to University. I’ll call you back.”

•      •      •

The Deliveryman ended the call and then settled in to watch the chess match. Friday was a popular day for people in the park and several students as well as a number of tourists always gathered to watch the chess players. A young man, maybe twelve, was currently holding his own against one of the park’s regulars and the Deliveryman took advantage of the crowd to blend in. He would wait to see Jack walk past and confirm that he was unarmed and that the seal was in place before he sent him on his next trip. He checked his watch against the notes he had taken and figured he had a long wait. On the next leg he would start giving Jack time limits. That’s when it would get interesting.

•      •      •

Sydney watched as the red dot representing her boss moved south toward New York University. She heard the babble of radio chatter behind her as the fire chief moved the trucks again and Greg positioned his people, but mostly she just watched the dot. She was worried about Jack, but refused to let it show or to voice her concerns to anyone. It would disappoint him if he knew, so she pushed her worry aside and tried to think. What would Jack want her to be doing? Thinking ahead. She tried to see the situation as he would. She knew everyone else was thinking about the exchange and the vials, but had anyone thought of how this guy may have planned his escape? Suppose he did manage to get the money and slip away. How would he exit the city? They had the bridges and tunnels all being watched. The airports were all manned with as many agents and officers as they had been able to scramble. They had people on every subway train and in every station. Every ferry in and out of the city was being watched. The helipads had agents at the desks. Where was he going to go?

The van tilted to the side as they took another corner at high speed. The mobile command center was heavy on the suspension, but light on comfort. She gripped her chair as they leveled off.

She concentrated on the screen again. Think ahead, Sydney. Where was he going?

•      •      •

Jack thought the same thing as he exited the cab and stepped out into the park. Foot traffic here was heavy as the spring weather drew the students out in mass numbers. He worked his way through the crowded park, looking for a face that held his for just a little too long. The park was perfect for what the man needed. Not only was there a sea of people, there was a sea of backpacks. People on bikes and rollerblades flew past and loud music from people dancing on the sidewalks mixed with even louder music from passing cars. Jack was quickly swallowed up in the mass of people.

•      •      •

The Deliveryman caught sight of Jack as he worked his way past the crowd at the chess tables. He kept his head aimed at the contest in front of him, but his eyes behind the sunglasses followed Jack as he passed. He examined him carefully from head to toe as he walked by not ten feet away. He saw no bulges that might hide a weapon or any telltale ear buds or wires that could be communication devices. The backpack looked to be the one he had mailed him and the seal was affixed to the closed zippers and in full display, just as he had instructed. He saw Jack scanning the crowd as he walked past, but he didn’t linger on him and moved on without breaking stride. He’d let him get to the other side of the park before leaving the area to call him. Maybe it was time for Jack to walk a few blocks. Things would be speeding up soon. He casually left the chess game and skipped through traffic to stand on the steps of Judson Memorial Church. He pulled out the phone and pretended to send a text message as he scanned the crowd for Jack’s retreating figure. He saw him in the distance, Jack’s height giving him an advantage over the students and other people in the park. He flipped the phone shut and headed in the opposite direction.

•      •      •

Jack walked all the way to the curb before stopping and scanning the crowd waiting on the other side. He palmed the phone in his hand, waiting for it to ring.

“I’m at University, just north of Fourth,” he spoke into the mic, “no call yet.”

“We have you, Jack. The trucks are in position and we’re two blocks north of you,” Greg replied in his ear.

“Okay. Any sign of our guy?”

“No, nothing concrete. We’re interrogating your two cab drivers but looks like they don’t know anything. So far it appears this guy is still acting alone.”

Jack tilted his head and took in the surrounding buildings. There were a million places he could be watching from right this second and there was no way to check them all. He was at the mercy of the next phone call. He just had to wait.

The wait wasn’t long before the phone rang. He looked at the screen. So far the calls had been from a different number each time. The first one they had already traced to a pre-paid cell. Jack had no hope in the other numbers being any different, but they would trace them all anyway. He punched the answer button.

“Yes?”

“Good job, Jack. You’re doing well. I’m glad to see you wore some comfortable shoes today. Nike Shocks? I have a pair, too. Let’s put some wear on them okay? Take a left on Fourth and go east to Broadway. Head south on foot until I call you back. Got it?”

“Yes.”

The connection broke. The man knew better than to get into a long conversation or say too much. Technology had improved to the point he was sure they could track the call in seconds.

“Did you guys get all that?” Jack asked.

“Fourth to Broadway and south till he calls,” Greg echoed the instructions. Jack heard him address the others in the truck. “Leapfrog the decon trucks south, no sirens, and start deploying the backup officers around the lower Manhattan area. This guy seems to prefer staying on the island.”

“I agree,” Jack spoke. “I’m moving.”

He waited for the light and then moved across with the crowd.

New flu “unstoppable,” WHO says, calls for vaccine.
July 13, 2009—Reuters
 

—THIRTY-FOUR—

F
our hours later, Jack and the team were getting frustrated. The man on the phone had Jack on a marathon. He had seen the Chrysler Building and Tomkins Square Park, taken a walk through Chinatown and Wall Street and was now sitting on a bench in Battery Park. He had been in three more cabs and walked countless blocks of pavement. But the exchange had not been mentioned yet. The only thing accomplished so far was to make Jack tired.

The frustration for Jack was on a whole other level. Not only was he tired from all the walking, his patience was at its limit. Twice more the man had commented on Jack’s appearance or movements and that made them all angry as it was obvious the man had Jack in sight when he said it. Yet they could not locate him. The phone numbers changed with every call and while they could quickly track them to a certain tower in the city, the towers covered a range of several blocks in all directions. With the city having one of the highest populations per square mile in America, it was a lost cause as the man kept him constantly moving. Jack had no choice but to play the mouse to his cat, and the team just had to follow along as best they could. He had managed to buy a bottle of water from a street vendor and now sat on the bench waiting for the next call. He noticed that traffic was quickly increasing as the afternoon rush hour was just starting. Since it was Friday, it looked to be even heavier than usual. He watched a bike messenger weave in and out of traffic with a skill and dexterity that kept him always seconds away from being killed.

Jack sipped the water and waited. “Anything?” he asked.

Sydney’s voice was in his ear this time. “Nothing, Jack, we’re looking.”

“Okay.”

They had been nervous twice. Once when it looked like they were heading toward the United Nations building, and again in Chinatown, as it was close to the bridge. Both times they had turned away. After a quick conversation, they had decided that if Jack was told to approach what they considered a high profile target, he would refuse. If the guy wanted his money he would just have to change the destination. So far they had not had to do so.

His thoughts were interrupted by the phone ringing in his hand.

“We’re on,” Jack spoke.

“We’re with you,” was Sydney’s quick reply.

Jack punched the answer button. “Yes?”

“You look a little tired, Jack. Don’t worry, this won’t last all day. Grab a cab and tell the driver to take you up William Street to the financial district again. Leave the windows down this time, Jack. I like to see you.”

“Are we going to do this or not?”

“Patience, Jack, patience.”

Jack stared at the dead phone in his hand, rose and hailed a cab. A car edged out two vans to beat them to the curb. Jack climbed in the back and looked up to see the driver looking over his shoulder.

“Where to today?”

“Wall Street. I need you to take Williams.”

The driver made a face. “You sure? Traffic will be bad. Hope you’re not in a hurry.”

Jack shook his head. “Look in my hand for me.”

The driver made another face, thinking he was getting robbed again. Didn’t these guys know that all cabs had cameras in them now? This guy didn’t really look the type though so he looked down and saw a badge instead of a gun. He looked back at Jack with a questioning look.

“What gives?”

“I’m FBI. I don’t really have time to explain, but I need you to do what I asked exactly how I asked it, okay? When I get out someone will talk to you and explain.”

The driver turned around and put the car in motion. “No problem. Just tell me what you need.” They entered the traffic and soon slowed to a pace matched by those on the sidewalk.

Jack read the nametag on the back of the seat and relayed the information and the cab number into his mic. Once Sydney answered, he took a minute and examined the driver over the seat. He had a large scar on his unshaven face and long hair. But his eyes were clear and sharp and he handled the cab with a practiced skill. As he rotated the wheel his sleeve ran up his biceps and Jack caught sight of the bottom half of a red-white-and-blue tattoo.

“82nd Airborne?” he asked.

The driver caught his eyes in the rearview mirror. “Yup, Gulf One. Name’s Jerry.”

“I’m Jack. How long you been driving the cab?”