building from this level?”
Earnst nodded fearfully. “My private elevator connects with a common exit for mine and four other stores.”
“Fine. Your office first and then we’ll make use of it.”
They reached Earnst’s office. Blaine eased the old man inside and steered him toward a display case set against the wall. It was filled with small, unfinished diamonds.
“Grab as many of those as you can.”
“What?”
“T.C. sent me here to keep you safe and alive and that’s what I plan on doing.”
The old man moved to the case and drained a measure of its contents into a small black jewelry box. “But the diamonds, why?”
“Insurance,” Blaine replied and led the way back into the corridor, eyes peeled toward the security door. “They want you alive. We can make that work for us.”
The elevator was located at the opposite end of the hallway from the door. Earnst could barely fit his security key in the special slot to activate it. McCracken helped him and eased the old man in first.
Blaine drew his gun and had moved ahead to shield Earnst by the time the doors slid open again. The lobby before them was empty. McCracken wasted no time, grasping the old man gently once more.
“Let’s go.”
Blaine led him forward toward a set of glass doors which opened out onto 47th. He held the gun low by his hip, partially hidden by his sports jacket. Earnst gripped the jewelry box with both hands to his chest as he moved behind Blaine out the door and into the street.
“Stay by my side,” McCracken whispered and swung right, walking east.
West 47th was a snarl of pedestrians and vehicles. With the city clogged by the lunchtime rush, packs of humanity squeezed past each other, spilling into the street to merge with the gridlocked traffic. Horns blared. Tires went through a series of crazed stops and starts.
Blaine led Earnst on, moving with the flow of the crowd. A chill crept up his spine, warning him to beware of adversaries closing in even now, searching them out—but from where?
Up ahead the reason for the traffic tie-up became clear. A moving truck had wedged itself into an impossible position across the street. The slightest acceleration would crumple a car on one side of it or the other. Several individuals were helping the driver with his delicate maneuvers. Blaine slowed.
“What’s wrong?” Earnst wondered.
“That truck up there, I don’t like it.”
“How can you tell? How can you know ?”
Blaine’s response was to grasp the old man’s arm at the elbow to urge him to go faster. The gnawing feeling of an attack soon to come was tight in his stomach. Yet from where would it come? Who might the assailants be, if there were any here at all? Everywhere he turned another shoulder brushed his own. Too many to be sure of anything. But as long as they wanted Earnst alive, he—
Through the cool spring air, Blaine caught a sound. It was faint but terrifyingly distinct: the clang of a machine pistol bolt being yanked back followed by a sudden click.
Alive, damnit, you’re supposed to want him alive!
From tranquilizers to real bullets. Something had changed. The drawing-back of the bolts meant the gunmen had spotted them and were closing even now.
Wait! The crowd! There was a way he could make use of it!
They were halfway to Fifth Avenue now. Just ahead a temporary scaffolding was in place for construction on the upper floors of a building.
“Open your box of diamonds,” McCracken whispered to Earnst.
“What?”
“Just do as I say. And when I tell you, fling the contents up in the air.”
The old man gawked in disbelief. “Are you crazy? Millions of dollars, you’re talking about. Millions!”
“Still not worth your life. There’s no time. They’ve got us. This is our only chance. When the excitement starts, mix with the crowd and disappear. You’ve done it before. You can do it again.”
“The killers will still chase you. ”
“That’s the idea.”
Somewhere behind
Earnst nodded fearfully. “My private elevator connects with a common exit for mine and four other stores.”
“Fine. Your office first and then we’ll make use of it.”
They reached Earnst’s office. Blaine eased the old man inside and steered him toward a display case set against the wall. It was filled with small, unfinished diamonds.
“Grab as many of those as you can.”
“What?”
“T.C. sent me here to keep you safe and alive and that’s what I plan on doing.”
The old man moved to the case and drained a measure of its contents into a small black jewelry box. “But the diamonds, why?”
“Insurance,” Blaine replied and led the way back into the corridor, eyes peeled toward the security door. “They want you alive. We can make that work for us.”
The elevator was located at the opposite end of the hallway from the door. Earnst could barely fit his security key in the special slot to activate it. McCracken helped him and eased the old man in first.
Blaine drew his gun and had moved ahead to shield Earnst by the time the doors slid open again. The lobby before them was empty. McCracken wasted no time, grasping the old man gently once more.
“Let’s go.”
Blaine led him forward toward a set of glass doors which opened out onto 47th. He held the gun low by his hip, partially hidden by his sports jacket. Earnst gripped the jewelry box with both hands to his chest as he moved behind Blaine out the door and into the street.
“Stay by my side,” McCracken whispered and swung right, walking east.
West 47th was a snarl of pedestrians and vehicles. With the city clogged by the lunchtime rush, packs of humanity squeezed past each other, spilling into the street to merge with the gridlocked traffic. Horns blared. Tires went through a series of crazed stops and starts.
Blaine led Earnst on, moving with the flow of the crowd. A chill crept up his spine, warning him to beware of adversaries closing in even now, searching them out—but from where?
Up ahead the reason for the traffic tie-up became clear. A moving truck had wedged itself into an impossible position across the street. The slightest acceleration would crumple a car on one side of it or the other. Several individuals were helping the driver with his delicate maneuvers. Blaine slowed.
“What’s wrong?” Earnst wondered.
“That truck up there, I don’t like it.”
“How can you tell? How can you know ?”
Blaine’s response was to grasp the old man’s arm at the elbow to urge him to go faster. The gnawing feeling of an attack soon to come was tight in his stomach. Yet from where would it come? Who might the assailants be, if there were any here at all? Everywhere he turned another shoulder brushed his own. Too many to be sure of anything. But as long as they wanted Earnst alive, he—
Through the cool spring air, Blaine caught a sound. It was faint but terrifyingly distinct: the clang of a machine pistol bolt being yanked back followed by a sudden click.
Alive, damnit, you’re supposed to want him alive!
From tranquilizers to real bullets. Something had changed. The drawing-back of the bolts meant the gunmen had spotted them and were closing even now.
Wait! The crowd! There was a way he could make use of it!
They were halfway to Fifth Avenue now. Just ahead a temporary scaffolding was in place for construction on the upper floors of a building.
“Open your box of diamonds,” McCracken whispered to Earnst.
“What?”
“Just do as I say. And when I tell you, fling the contents up in the air.”
The old man gawked in disbelief. “Are you crazy? Millions of dollars, you’re talking about. Millions!”
“Still not worth your life. There’s no time. They’ve got us. This is our only chance. When the excitement starts, mix with the crowd and disappear. You’ve done it before. You can do it again.”
“The killers will still chase you. ”
“That’s the idea.”
Somewhere behind
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