On the phone he told Stone, “Let’s figure in a six-block radius with the deli as the center point. It’s a lot of ground to cover, but not nearly as much as we had to check before.”
“That’s good work, Joe.”
“So who do you have on your hunting team?”
“Harry Finn, Mary Chapman from MI6 and me.”
“And me.”
“No, Joe, not you.”
“Alex Ford saved my life. I owe him this.”
“I thought you were going to retire.”
“I will, right after this. How we getting up there?”
“Private wheels. For all I know Friedman has a way to put markers in the electronic system too, so rentals are out.”
“We can take my Rover. When do you want to leave?”
“You really sure about this?”
“Don’t ask again. But what about the rest of the Camel Club?”
“Reuben is shot up. I don’t want Annabelle going anywhere near this. And Caleb, well.”
“Enough said.”
They headed out at four in the morning. Knox drove. Stone rode shotgun. Finn and Chapman were in the rear seats. Stone had explained the plan to them the previous night. Except for Knox they were all disguised, just in case Friedman had scouts out doing what they were doing. Friedman might have gotten a look at Finn when he was tailing Turkekul and Stone was not willing to take any chances.
They each had a photo of Ming, and Knox also had one of Friedman, although it was doubtful the woman looked anything remotely like she had before.
“Six-block radius,” Stone repeated to them as they reached the Big Apple, which was fully awake by now as millions set off to work. Knox was going to roam in his wheels after he dropped the other three off in different locations around the South Bronx. The area they were in wasn’t exactly Park Avenue, but they were all armed and well capable of taking care of themselves.
Stone walked his route inward toward the deli. He had no need to look at Ming’s photo again. He’d memorized each of the man’s distinctive features, the most prominent of which was a pair of blank eyes. Stone knew if he weren’t a hired killer Ming would have simply become a sociopath and done the same thing for free. But even sociopaths made mistakes. Ming’s error had been using his credit card for a pastrami sandwich, a can of Sapporo and an order of fries.
While there were many gentrified areas of flourishing neighborhoods and retail strips, the South Bronx also contained over half of the borough’s public housing projects. And despite the presence of the new billion-dollar Yankee Stadium, about fifty percent of the population lived below the poverty line. Crime was a problem and there were parts of the area one should avoid. Stone and company were in precisely one of those areas.
However, Stone was less worried about domestic criminals than about a team of imported killers. His gaze kept moving, but as the sun rose high overhead and sweat began to trickle down his neck, he understood quite clearly that it would take a minor miracle to find them.
He was only hours away from getting one.
Chapman reported the sighting. She gave the address where she was. “He’s headed west, just crossing the street.”
The others moved in while Chapman relayed updates via texts.
She texted one last time and then called Stone. “He just went into what looks like a machine shop on… hang on. Uh, East 149th Street is what the sign says.”
“What’s the cross street?” Stone asked, and Chapman told him.
He said, “Now get some cover. They might be watching the street.”
She crossed over and entered an alley. She looked back at the four-story brick building. “It looks abandoned,” she said into her cell phone.
“Stay put and keep watch,” said Stone. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
In nine minutes Stone joined her in the alley. “I’ve got Knox and Finn approaching from the other side,” he told her. He glanced at the building. “Seen anything else?”
“Figure at a window on the third floor. Didn’t look like Ming. But I couldn’t be sure.”
Stone studied the area and wondered why Friedman would have chosen this spot to hide. Certainly parts of the South Bronx offered lots of space that no one else was using. Still, it was an odd choice, thought Stone. But he was coming to realize that Marisa Friedman was far more complex than he had originally believed. And he had thought she was quite talented to begin with.
He gazed southeast toward the East River where more than a few bodies had been dumped over the years. To the west was the Harlem River, beyond that upper Manhattan and beyond that the Hudson River where Interstate 95 connected the city with New Jersey to the south and New England to the north.
“What’s the plan?” asked Chapman.
“We sit on the place and observe.”
“How long?”
“As long as it takes for us to figure out what they’ve got, who’s there and how we get to them at minimal risk to ourselves.”
“How about we call in NYPD and/or the FBI?”
Stone glanced back at her. “When you insisted on coming I took it for granted that you were going to follow my lead.”
“I will, to a limit. We need to do everything possible to ensure that Friedman gets back alive, to stand trial.”
“You said you were going to have a hard time not pulling the trigger.”
“I only said that to make you feel better. I’ll have no problem with it. She’s not worth screwing my life over. But the question is, can you stop yourself from pulling it?”
“If I have to, yes.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I seriously doubt the woman will walk out with her hands up so she can be tried, convicted and executed for treason. If she tries to harm anyone of my team I’ll do my best to kill her. I’m assuming you feel the same way.”
“How much weapons training does she have?”
“I checked her file. She’s got plenty. And all top of the grade performance-wise. Close-quarters and long-range.”
“And here I was thinking she was just a pretty face.”
Stone snagged her shoulder. “This is serious stuff, Chapman. No time for anything but your best game face. So cut out the wisecracks.”
She pulled herself free from his grip. “I’ll let my performance speak for itself. How about that?”
Stone looked away and took up surveillance on the building again.
A few minutes later he received a call from Finn. “In position. No activity back here. Two entry points. One center and one east of center. Appears to be locked and would assume watched. They might have a portable surveillance system in place too. At least I would if I were them and had picked an area like this to hole up in.”
“I agree with that, Harry,” said Stone. “Is Knox there?”
“Affirmative. What do you want us to do?”
“Let’s sit on the place and see what we can see. When we hit it, I want it to be as clean as possible. Any chance on getting the interior plan for this building?”
“Already downloaded it onto my phone.”
“How so fast?” asked a surprised Stone.
“Got a buddy in the city planning office. We served together in the navy.”
“Give me the layout.”
Finn did so.
“Lot of problem areas,” noted Stone.
“Agreed. Once we gain entry. That’ll be the hard part. Unobserved, I mean.”