“That guy keeps staring at us.”
Avery glanced over her shoulder and gasped. It was one of the men who had chased them at St. Paul’s church. She looked away, but not before their eyes met. She saw recognition in his face, and he began walking toward them.
“Get out of here!” Corey gave her a push in the back to get her moving, and then followed along behind her.
“What do we do?”
“He sees I’ve got the cylinder. When we get to the next bridge, I’ll lead him away. You blend in with the crowd and make your way back to the street and meet up with Matt. You and the map need to stay out of their hands.”
“But, you…”
“There’s the bridge. Go!”
Before she could protest, Corey took off in the opposite direction. Avery hated to leave him to the mercy of Locke’s men, but what could she do? Cursing him under her breath, she weaved through a crowd of college kids who were poking along, taking in the sights. When she reached the end of the second bridge, she stole a glance behind her.
Corey’s ruse had not worked. The man was after her.
Dane stood on the deck of the U.S.S. Constellation, a nineteenth-century sloop-of-war. The last remaining intact Civil War ship and one of the last sailing warships built by the United States Navy, she had also seen action in both World Wars prior to her final decommissioning in 1955. She was now a National Historical Landmark and served as a floating museum and attraction.
“Right on time, I see.” Locke seemed to materialize out of the crowd. The man was good. He stopped a few feet from Dane. “Do you have them?” His tone was relaxed, as if they were two friends engaged in a casual conversation.
“Where’s Angel?” Dane hated feeling he was at Locke’s mercy. Hopefully, their plan would turn the tables.
By way of answer, Locke pointed toward the harbor, where a speedboat floated fifty feet from Constellation’s stern. A man stood guard over the hunched figure of a dark-skinned young woman. She was gagged, her hands were bound, and her face was a mask of bruises. Anger surged through him.
“You bastard. I’ll kill you for that.”
“Not today, unless you want your girl to meet the same fate. Now, give it here and don’t try anything foolish.” He held out his hand.
It was only by supreme force of will that Dane did not knock the man’s teeth down his throat. He looked again at the speedboat, and spotted an odd disturbance in the water by its stern. Good!
“Fine. But I want Angel released now.” He slid the backpack he’d been wearing over one shoulder, and handed it to Locke.
“Of course.” The lie was evident in his eyes. Locke opened it just enough to expose the dagger’s white hilt. He fished deeper into the backpack and withdrew a clear plastic bag that held the map. “Very good. Now…”
He cut off in mid-sentence as two men, so pale they looked almost like albinos, converged on him. Somewhere in the crowd of tourists, someone yelled, “Stop right there!”
And then it all went to hell.
Bones hauled himself over the speedboat’s stern, careful not to make a sound. At his hip, the dagger gently vibrated, concealing him from sight. He wondered, absently if someone who looked in his direction would see water dripping from… nothing. He wasn’t about to waste time finding out.
There were two men in the boat: one at the helm and the other standing behind Angel. He wore a pistol at his hip, but his arms hung loosely at his side. Both were staring up at Constellation, where Maddock and Locke should be making the exchange right about now.
Bones crept up behind the guard and, fast as lightning, slipped the gun from its holster, clamped his free hand over the man’s mouth and nose, and pressed the gun to his temple.
“Don’t move and don’t make a sound,” he whispered, quiet enough not to be heard by the man in the helm over the sound of the idling engine. The man froze. If the barrel of a gun against his temple wasn’t enough to guarantee his cooperation, the shock of being held by an invisible enemy did it. “Down on your knees.”
The man complied instantly. Bones clubbed him across the back of the head with the pistol and he crumpled to the ground.
Angel still sat slumped forward, and hadn’t seen him. Even though she was gagged, if he frightened her, she might cry out and alert the man at the helm, so he reached down and pressed the dagger, turning off the cloak.
“Angel, it’s me.” He kept his voice soft. “I’m getting you out of here.”
Angel sat up fast and jerked her head around.
It wasn’t Angel.
“Who are you?” Bones whispered, forgetting for a moment the danger and that the girl couldn’t speak. “Never mind. Let’s go.” He helped her to her feet, removed her gag, and led her to the stern.
“What’s happening?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
Just then, chaos erupted on the Constellation. An instant later, the boat lurched forward as the man at the helm made a beeline for the sailing ship’s stern.
The woman was thrown off balance and tumbled into the water. For a split second, Bones considered letting her swim for it. If he waited on the boat, maybe he could ambush Locke, but the woman had sank out of sight and showed no sign of surfacing.
His decision was made for him when a bullet zipped past his head. Someone on shore had spotted him. Cursing his luck, he dove into the dark water.
Avery hurried on, looking back on occasion, only to see the guy gaining on her. Every time she thought she’d lost him in a crowd, he turned up again— sometimes ahead of her, sometimes behind her, but always closer. She looked around for a police officer, security guard, anyone who might offer some help, but there was no one.
As desperate panic welled inside her, her eyes fell on an oblong, modern building of gray metal and glass. The National Aquarium. Surely they’d have a security staff there. She made a beeline for the front door. Let them bust her for gate crashing. She’d be safer in custody than out here pursued by Locke’s man. She circled around an arguing young couple and there he was again. He stood twenty feet away barring her way to the entrance, smiling.
“No more of this foolish chase. Give it to me and you can be on your way.”
She didn’t even think. She just ran. Behind her, she heard him call out, more in annoyance than surprise, and then she heard his feet pounding the concrete, hot on her tail.
She rounded the building and saw a man in a work uniform unlocking a side door.
“Hold on!” she cried, adding a burst of speed she hadn’t thought she had at her disposal. The man gaped as she sprinted past him, crashed through a set of double doors, and clambered up a staircase to her left.
She had only a moment to consider where she might be. It definitely wasn’t any sort of public area. At the top of the stairs, she brushed past a girl in a polo shirt and khaki shorts, causing the girl to spill her bucket of chum or something equally stinky.
“Hey! You can’t go that way! That’s…”
Whatever it was, Avery didn’t know because her pursuer chose that moment to take a shot at her. Avery and the girl both screamed as the roar of the gunshot filled the stairwell and the bullet tore through the ceiling. The door in front of her was propped open and Avery dashed through.
Big mistake.
She had only a split second to realize her mistake and then she was flying through the air. She flailed her arms and legs as if she could take wing, and then she splashed down into deep water. As momentum and the weight of her sodden clothes dragged her down, she kicked and paddled, trying to arrest her descent. When she finally got herself headed back up to the surface, she opened her eyes. Another mistake.