By the time they emerged from Central Park, it was clear to Maggie that Emily wouldn’t last. Her feet dragged a little more with each step, breathing labored, and face wincing from the stitch in her side.
Maggie checked over her shoulder. There had been no further sightings of Aleksandar and his men, but that didn’t mean they weren’t close. They needed to get off the streets and out of sight as soon as possible.
Which meant the subway.
They used the pedestrian crossing to avoid unwanted attention. Cops were everywhere, and no matter Maggie’s views on how ludicrous an offense jaywalking was, the last thing they needed was to get stopped and charged for being in a hurry.
The 86th Street station was closest, and Maggie and Emily merged in with the crowd as they travelled to the terminal. Yana may have been mugged, but not Maggie. Paying for two tickets with fresh bills, she and Emily waited for the C train and hopped on. Maggie double checked the lines depicted in the car’s interior once they’d found a seat. Five stops and they’d be at 42nd Street. From there, the E train would take them to Lexington Avenue, leaving them a short two-minute walk to the British Consulate.
The car was filling up fast, and Maggie kept an eye on each passenger who stepped inside, evaluating their threat level before moving on to the next. None of them were Aleksandar’s men.
The car was fuller than Maggie liked, passengers squeezing to fit in like sardines even though the one next to it lay empty. Having visited the city several times, Maggie knew that meant the smell was unbearable, thanks to what was usually the result of someone throwing up or using the floor as a toilet. City life had its glamorous side, but public transport wasn’t one of them.
Maggie turned to Emily, checking her red knees. The blood had stopped, but the open skin would need cleaned. “Are you okay?” she asked.
Emily nodded, arms wrapped around her waist.
Maggie tucked some of Emily’s braids behind her ear. Fear was painted over her young face, the remnants of childhood still in her round cheeks. She was holding up well, all things considered. Homework and petty arguments with friends should be the extent of worries for a girl so young. Not being scared for her life.
If the Russian’s had their way, this would be the last day Emily ever saw, her last moments spent with people who’d held her captive.
A dark thought shadowed Maggie’s thoughts and her nails dug into her palms.
“Emily, did anyone…” Maggie stopped, trying to find the right words.
“Touch me?” Emily finished for her. She shook her head. “No. I would have torn their eyes out if they tried.”
Maggie smiled with chagrin. While girls needed to be aware and ever watchful in today’s world, it pained her to think about the necessity of it. A child’s innocence was such a fragile thing, and Maggie knew more than most the ways in which it could be torn from them.
Emily seemed to calm a little while talking, so Maggie kept her chatting. “What age are you?”
“Twelve, but I’ll be thirteen in a few weeks.”
“A teenager,” said Maggie, the idea of having an infant never mind a teen hitting her like a ton of bricks. Emily was her responsibility right now, but taking care of the life growing inside her would be a full-time job.
Emily sighed. “Yeah, I’m getting old.”
“I know the feeling.” Maggie grinned. “I like your dress.”
“I don’t,” Emily groaned. “My mom made me wear it for the party. I still wore my Chucks, though.” The hint of a mischievous grin tugged at the corner of her lips.
Maggie nudged her. “Rebel. What was the party for?”
“Some boring thing for some boring colleague of my mom’s. She’s a human rights lawyer.”
Which explained why Emily found herself at a party with a UN official. It wasn’t lost on Maggie that Emily could tell her more than Jonathan Cole and Danielle Hawkins.
“And you saw something?” Maggie asked. “Something bad.”
Tears filled Emily’s eyes. “Yes.”
Maggie wiped Emily’s eyes dry with the sleeve of her shirt. While Maggie’s curiosity about the assassination was strong, she didn’t want to upset her further. Especially not in public with prying eyes.
“Do you work for the UN, too?” Emily asked.
Maggie shook her head, and filed the tidbits of information with what else she knew.
“But you were hired to come get me?”
“Something like that,” admitted Maggie. Even with the panic and deadly situation she found herself in, Emily didn’t miss much. Her mother had raised her well, and although Maggie had been trained to keep charges at an emotional distance, she couldn’t help but warm to the girl.
“I don’t even know your name,” Emily said.
“I’m Yan—” Maggie stopped. “My name is Maggie.”
“Maggie, do you think I can go home now? I wanna see my parents.”
“Soon.” Maggie took Emily’s hand and gave it a squeeze.
The car slowed down for the first stop at 81st Street, right by the Museum of Natural History. People got on and off, a mixture of bored looking locals and excited tourists trying out the famed underground system for the first time.
Four more stops, a switch in line, then another four stops. They’d both be safe soon, and Maggie could return home to deal with her own predicament. So many things were about to change.
Just as the doors made to close again, three men in suits squeezed through in time before the train set off again.
Maggie tensed and swore under her breath. Aleksandar headed towards them with a sneer on his face, and two men at his back.
There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.
They were locked in until the next stop.
“Thanks for getting me out of there,” Emily said, who hadn’t noticed the Russians’ arrival.
“You’re very welcome,” said Maggie, standing from her seat. “It’s all part of the job.”
Emily stared up at her. “What is your job?”
Maggie took the baton out from her waistband and flicked it open.
“To keep you safe.”