‘Drive, Mister.’ A gun pressed tight against the back of Zeb Carter’s head.
He didn’t move for a moment, stunned at the turn of events.
‘Move,’ the speaker gritted his teeth. He jammed the weapon harder. ‘Didn’t you hear what I said?’
It was just after noon. A New York afternoon in the summer. Bright sunlight on the sidewalks. Hordes of chattering tourists, cameras around their necks, following their tour guides dutifully. Office workers returning to their workplaces after hastily snatched meals. Skateboarders speeding through crowds in the daredevil way only they could manage.
Zeb had been out for lunch as well, along with Meghan and Beth. A Vietnamese joint near their Columbus Avenue office had opened up and the younger sister had talked them into trying it out.
And so they had gone.
They had returned from Jerusalem a few months back, high from the events of their previous mission. Israel had recognized Palestine as an independent country and the two nations were working on the finer details of a historic accord.
That single development had dramatically reduced terrorist incidents around the world. Zeb’s Warriors were benefiting from that lull. Nothing much was happening at the Agency.
‘You want to join?’ he asked the others as he followed the sisters.
‘Nah,’ Broker replied distractedly and focused on bettering his golf shot. Bear and Chloe, engrossed in something on their cell phones didn’t look up. Bwana and Roger were playing, aiming shots at the hoop on a wall. The two men waved them away.
Zeb went with the Petersen twins. Him and sunshine and laughter. He had taken their SUV to the joint and parked it in an empty space.
It had happened on their return.
He had slid into the driver’s seat, Meghan, next to him at the front, Beth in the rear. Standard seating when the three of them were in a vehicle.
He saw the blur of motion from the corner of his eyes. Felt the rear door open and bodies slid in.
By the time it registered on him and the sisters, it was too late. A barrel was digging into the back of his head.
His eyes flicked to the rear-view mirror. He was still stunned. Anger growing in him at his carelessness.
I’m losing my edge. I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings, at possible threats.
He blinked when he took in the assailants. Two of them. Male and female. The former’s weapon was on Zeb, the woman’s on Beth.
They’re kids! In their teens.
The boy looked to be sixteen, the girl a year or two younger.
Not that I am an expert on ages.
The gun at his head jabbed again. ‘How many times do I have to tell you? You want to die?’ the boy shouted. ‘You,’ he yelled at Meghan, ‘don’t turn back or your friend dies.’
Zeb looked swiftly at the elder sister who nodded imperceptibly. She too had caught the undertone of fear in the kid’s voice.
He’s scared. He isn’t a seasoned carjacker. Could be his first such gig.
‘Where to?’ he asked.
‘Columbus Avenue. Near the Lincoln Center.’
He turned the key, flashed his indicator and joined the stream of traffic.
Do they know who we are? They’re aware of our office location?
It didn’t seem likely. Zeb and his crew worked in a covert outfit that only a handful of people knew of. It was called the Agency, its director reported only to the president. It went after terrorists and international criminals.
The two kids didn’t fit that bill. They were smartly dressed, the boy in a Tee over jeans, neat haircut. The girl, her eyes wide, in a mid-calf dress. Both blonde-haired, green eyes, well-shaped features. They looked like high-school students.
Not scruffy, though. Preppy. Private school?
‘Where exactly on Columbus Avenue?’
‘I’ll tell you when we get there,’ the boy snarled.
There were ways Zeb could overpower his assailant. The gun was too close to his head. A swift move to the left or right and the barrel would be exposed. An elbow to the rear, break the kid’s jaw and the tables would be turned. Beth could easily overcome the girl.
He didn’t do any of that, though. Neither did Beth. Meghan didn’t react.
The three of them could read one another without having to speak. They wanted to see how this would play out. It didn’t feel like a mugging or car theft.
Ahead, a light turned red. Traffic slowed. Zeb eased on the gas.
‘Go!’ the boy showered spittle on the back of his neck. ‘I’ll tell you when to stop.’
‘You don’t want me crashing in those vehicles,’ Zeb explained reasonably. ‘We’ll draw attention. Cops might show up. I’m guessing you don’t want that.’
‘Please, mister,’ the girl broke her silence. ‘Drive as fast as you can.’
Her voice was breaking. The two of them are close to breaking down. They’re just about holding it together.
He looked in the mirror, at the girl, whose jaw was set tight. She stared straight ahead, didn’t meet his eyes. Her gun was jammed in Beth’s side.
The light changed. The snake of vehicles moved. Zeb accelerated. Overtook a cab. Honked to get a lumbering van to make way, got an upraised finger as they swept past.
New York. Attitude first, manners second.
Lincoln Center loomed in the distance. Their office building to their left. The kids didn’t look at it as it slid behind them.
Nope, this isn’t about us.
‘Left, at West 62nd Street.’
Zeb turned on his blinker and navigated. He felt the boy’s breath on his neck. Could hear him breathe harshly. Gulping as he swallowed. He spread out the fingers of his left palm.
A message to the twins.
Be ready.
A car nosed out of its parking space. He floored his SUV and squeezed in its place before another vehicle could.
‘What are you doing?’ the boy screamed. ‘I asked you to drive.’
Zeb turned off the ignition and swung around in his seat.
‘Shoot me.’
‘What? Can’t you see I have a gun?’
‘Yes. Use it. Go ahead.’
The boy swallowed. His face turned red. The gun, a Glock, shook in his hand, its barrel pointing at Zeb’s face.
‘Mister,’ the girl’s voice trembled.
He and Meghan looked at her. Beth was watching as well.
‘Please do as he says,’ a tear rolled down the young woman’s face. ‘We need to go fast.’
‘Why?’
‘There’s a gunman in our apartment,’ she sobbed, her gunhand falling limply to her lap.
‘If we don’t take this vehicle to our building,’ she shuddered, ‘he’ll kill mom.’
