Jay could see there were six buttons on Damien’s screen: mute, keypad, speaker—that button was already highlighted—add call, voice activated and location. Damien hit the location button.
‘What now?’ Damien said.
‘Swipe from the top down,’ Aviary said.
Damien swiped down, pulling a new window over the top. It was a map with markers for both Aviary and Sophia. Jay could see Aviary was around Grand Central while Sophia was further west, in the theatre district. He could see their own location much further south, near the east coast of Manhattan.
Below that, Jay noticed a string of characters.
18TWL8584008819
It was Damien’s MGRS — Military Grid Reference System. The first two digits were the grid-zone designation, the rest narrowed the precision level to one meter.
Damien started rummaging around in the Marauder’s glove box. He grasped a hands-free with earphones and mike that plugged into the phone.
Aviary hadn’t given Jay or Damien any wireless earpieces, so a hands-free would have to do. Jay considered checking the rear cabin for a hands-free of his own but couldn’t be bothered. He knew he wasn’t going to be running around for a while.
Damien slipped the wire under his shirt, pulling his bow-tie off. He left the mike on a bit of slack around the collar so he could talk into it.
‘Damien, what’s your condition?’ Sophia said.
‘I’m fine,’ Damien said.
‘Good, because right now you’re the only person who can stop Denton from—’
‘Collecting all the Pokémon,’ Aviary said.
‘What’s that?’ Jay said.
‘A joke lost on an entire generation of operatives,’ Aviary said. ‘As you were.’
‘Aviary,’ Sophia said. ‘I need a favor.’
‘You got it,’ Aviary said quickly.
‘Can you find the nearest train for Damien?’ Sophia said. ‘Plot a route between us. I need an RV somewhere in between. A tunnel, a station, whatever. We need to do a handover and we need to do it quickly.’
‘On it,’ Aviary said.
Jay could hear the rhythmic drum of keys and mouse clicks as Aviary did her computer thing. The only other sound was the rain and wind battering the Marauder’s armor.
‘You’ll have to leave Jay somewhere,’ Sophia said.
Jay shrugged at Damien. ‘I’d just slow you down anyway.’
Damien looked at him, those big eyebrows narrowed.
‘You’re coming with me,’ Damien said.
Jay shook his head, but Sophia said the words for him.
‘He can’t,’ Sophia said. ‘He won’t make it.’
‘You have to go. And you have to go now.’
‘Damien,’ Aviary said from the phone’s speaker. ‘I found a train at a platform. Second Avenue, a few blocks south of you.’
‘I have a better option,’ Damien said. ‘Williamsburg Bridge. It’s less than a mile from here. If I make it across—’
‘No,’ Sophia said.
‘I can do it,’ Damien said.
‘They’ll have it locked down,’ Sophia said. ‘There’s no question.’
Jay watched him plug the hands-free in, lock the phone and shove it into his pocket.
‘Second Avenue, got it,’ Damien said. ‘Jay, what about you?’
‘The sooner you get the fuck away from me the better my chances.’ Jay eyed off the .50 cal platform above him. ‘And that doesn’t hurt either.’
Damien shook his head. ‘They’ll look here first, the least I can do is get you off the street.’
Damien was already eyeing off the six-story building on their right. He pointed to an apartment entrance squeezed between a Thai and Mediterranean restaurant. The Thai restaurant’s roller door was closed, scrawled with graffiti, while the Mediterranean place was all glass, half submerged in dirty water.
Jay rolled his eyes. ‘Fine, hurry up then.’
Damien jumped from the driver’s cabin, carbine in both hands, and waded through the leftover water and battering wind. Jay landed in the murky water with his leather shoes. His stomach was on fire once again. If there was any fresh bleeding around his stomach Damien hadn’t noticed it yet. Instead, Damien cut a swift path through the water, toward a little red apartment entrance on the other side of the road.
Jay looked up. Deep gray tendrils curled the sky. The rain pressed his shirt to his skin and the wind made him falter with each step. He covered his face with one hand to keep debris from his eyes and waded after Damien, dodging a cluster of trash bags that floated past.
‘I’m guessing the carbine doesn’t work,’ Jay called out to Damien.
Damien slammed the butt stock into the glass door, shattering it. ‘Works for me,’ he said.
Jay ducked under the metal handlebar. His body seized up, pain flaring along his leg and through his stomach. He clenched his teeth and tried to remain upright.
‘Do you have picks?’ Damien said.
‘Yeah,’ Jay said. ‘The only thing I am carrying in this monkey suit.’
Damien was also still wearing his complete tuxedo, missing only his bow-tie. He handed Jay the carbine. Jay wasn’t sure what he could use it for except maybe to bluff someone. The better option was finding and raiding a police station for a shotgun or even a working carbine. At least they wouldn’t be fingerprint protected and he could actually shoot something for once.
Damien was about to leave. He checked his phone, then hesitated. Before Jay could walk up the stairs Damien reached through the door and gripped his arm. But he didn’t say anything. He knew he had to leave.
‘Go,’ Jay said.
Chapter 36
Damien shed his tuxedo jacket. He pulled the webbing straps on the ruck, tightening them around his shoulders. According to Aviary, two operatives were as of this moment two blocks north of him and another two further away. The closer pair moved independently of each other.
Damien didn’t know where the masked Blue Berets might be, but he figured they’d be in a vehicle. Which meant he’d hear them coming sooner. It also meant they’d catch him sooner. Especially with someone riding a .50 cal.
Aviary had sent him a map of the subway stations. She’d set the tracks. All he had to do was remember which stations to pass before stopping. His destination would be Union Square. Where Sophia would meet him.
He kept his phone in his pocket, a single earbud in his ear so he could still hear Aviary. Sophia was moving to her own subway station so she’d drop out of the call until they reunited.
He stepped onto the sidewalk. The hurricane had blotted out the sky. The water was barely ankle level here, only deeper in the gutters. The rain and wind channeled through the streets, slowing him down. With the wind roaring in his ears the whole time, he’d never hear an operative coming. He wasn’t happy about that.
The thought was enough to spur him into a run, south. He reached the first corner and hesitated when he saw a green sign for Williamsburg Bridge with a picture of a bicycle. It pointed farther south. The subway station he was supposed to go to was southeast.
He considered the bridge for a moment. If there were a way to slip past the National Guard or Blue Berets or whoever might be posted there, he’d improve his odds of survival dramatically. Trapped in New York City, he was a rogue operative in a barrel.
An overhead traffic light groaned against the wind, then the traffic light itself tore from its frame and dropped to the road with a punctual splash.
Subway it is, he thought.
He took a right past Benny’s Burgers, splashing through the deeper water in the street and reaching the sidewalk on the other side. He started running west.