A Drone over New York
Chapter 29

He turned off Thom’s phone once he had sent the response. It was a nice phone, and it would be unfair to throw it away. Thom was being caught up in all of this, and the least Max could do was to try and return it to him somehow.

Giving up his borrowed phone also meant he had given up being able to contact Anton. His only way to contact him was the burn phone. He should have tried to memorize the number. Or leave the number in his dark email. But it was all too late now.

Max got off after three stops and stood on the platform. He waited for the crowd to clear before moving. There was no sign of anyone trying to following him.

He boarded the next train. The early-morning commuter crowd was already beginning. There were plenty of people in gym gear, on their way to various classes near their office.

Max trekked across town to the subway station he’d told Rachael about in his email to her. He waited deep inside the station, but still in view of the bottom of the stairs.

With a new hat pulled down over his face, he pretended to stretch for some fictional, nonexistent run. He hated waiting out in the open like this, but it was his only chance.

He had told her to come alone, and to catch a specific train. From there she would get instructions. He only hoped she was going to follow through with it. After all, she had $1.5 million riding on this as well.

He waited and waited and waited, slowly becoming worried she might not come.

Eventually he caught sight of the red hair coming down the stairs. She had her business face on. She was alone, or at least that was how she was meant to look.

Two suits were twenty feet behind. There was also a girl in a dress giving them the eye.

She had an MCW security tail, Max knew.

Rachael strode forward like a person with a purpose. Max could only wonder what was going through her head.

She walked straight through the barriers, with her private escort not far behind. Max followed them, trying to keep his distance. The group descended one by one down the stairs onto the platform. Max had to hurry to keep up.

As the train pulled in, the security people looked around. Max tried to hide himself in plain sight. There was no use pretending to do anything in here.

The train was fuller than he had expected. Peak hour traffic was now in full swing. He got on two cars down from her.

Three stops later they changed lines. Max watched Rachael as she walked. All the security people pretended to be part of the crowd. Keeping his distance, he watched and waited for his moment.

Rachael started staring at someone, a guy in a blazer. It was a moment or two before Max realized what she was trying to do.

A few moments later the train rolled into the station. The security people were too preoccupied with the guy in the blazer to see Max. This was his opportunity to get close.

They all boarded the crowded train and squeezed together in the madness. Max was less than six feet away from her now, but he might have as well been a mile. There was no way of getting to her without being noticed or seen.

The next stop came and went. People got off, people got on. All the others made that awkward shuffle to let the people through. The crowd had pushed him away. He was ten feet away now, with only three stations left before she changed and waited for instructions. Max could only hope she would improvise and not give up. But the more changes they made, the higher the risk. It wouldn’t be too long before there was no way of hiding himself. He had to make a move here, while he still could.

Another station and another shuffle. More people got on than off. The car started to suffer the peak-hour squeeze. Suits, sweatpants, and slacks were all there. But Max got closer this time, only five squashed people away.

One of them was her security detail.

The train shunted to a start and people began to rock back and forth, shuffling around to ensure they didn’t fall over. He could move now.

His eyes darted around the car. He had to be careful there was no one else. He tried to casually look back and forth. He saw only the three security guards and Rachael.

It was at the next stop that Max had to make his move. He waited until the train was pulling up. He joined the crowd as people moved slightly to give enough space to those pushing past. That was when Rachael turned.

Only a few feet away their eyes met.

It was now or never.

He reached into his coin pocket of his shorts and pulled out the drive. He stepped into the flow and was carried along by the people around him.

He shoved past one of the security detail. He was too busy eyeing the person two in front of him. Rachael moved her hand over to her purse. Max saw what she was doing. She opened it up slightly. Just enough for Max to make the drop.

But she was going to be just out of reach.

A big guy shoved past him, pushing him into the masses. The disembarking crowd was clearly not fast enough for him. After that Rachael moved to let someone else through. Her back now facing him, her purse perfectly placed.

Max tried to make it look natural as he placed the small drive in her bag. Anton would be proud. Max resisted the urge to look back as he put his head down and moved the few feet to the door. He waited for a hand to grab him, but it never came.

He stepped off the train and over the gap. The people waiting to get on closed in behind him. There was no chance of anyone following. Now he was clear. He turned to see Rachael trying to hide a smile. She was going to wait to tell them she had got it.

She glanced his way with those lovely eyes she had. He gave her a wink and a small smile. They had done it. The coast was clear and the money would be transferred. They were about to make $7.5 million.

Max glanced around to see the security detail’s reaction. They weren’t moving. They had no idea.

That was when he saw the blonde hair tied back under a Yankees baseball cap. The rose-tinted glasses hid the face he knew too well. Her mouth was wide open in disbelief. How Max had not seen her, he would never know.

Kate had seen it all.

The doors closed behind him and he watched Kate’s face change. She tried to push her way off the car, but it was too late.

Max could not help himself as he raised his hand and gave her a wave. Max tried to think if she would tell Martha. It might cost Kate her job if she did. Then again it might cost her job if she didn’t.

The train pulled away and Max watched the windows fly past. The money was about to be his. Now all he had to do was get away. Rachael would probably hand it straight over to Kate, who was helpless now. Rachael might get a stern talking to, but there was nothing they could do to her. They could never afford the reputational damage of not paying a source. The money would be transferred. It was his.

Now all he had to do was get out of the city alive.

His plan was to break into his apartment, grab his passport, and get to the airport. The ticket was in his name, so if Rachael didn’t show, it would be her own problem.

Max’s attention shifted when a scream pierced the air. Max joined everyone as they turned to look. Two bright flashes came from the train rolling out of the station. The sounds of gunshots cut through the entire station.

A million things ran through Max’s mind, but he didn’t have time to think. The crowd on the platform rushed for the exit. People pushed and shoved, fearing for their lives.

Max joined the rush. He started to run. People hurried up the stairs. An old lady fell in front of him and he just stepped over her. More people followed. No one stopped. No one helped. They just wanted to get out.

Everyone was yelling and screaming. Max tried to work out what had happened. Someone must have tried to get to Rachael. The security detail must have stepped in. They had to have stepped in.

The exit gates folded under the pressure of hundreds of people. The morning rush hour became a panicked mess.

Max kept running. He had to try and think. He needed to stay one step ahead.

People swarmed forward, up the narrow stairs, and out onto the street. The bright morning sun beamed down on Max from above.

He looked at the sign as he exited. He was at 34th Street station.

The sun made his mind kick into gear. Everyone would know the drive was no longer in his possession. But he would be a fool to believe he was safe—especially after what he just saw. There was no time to try and rendezvous with Rachael now. He had to get to Anton.

He counted the blocks in his head. He could make it if he ran.

He bolted through the crowd, which seemed to flood everywhere. The traffic stopped and people started to get out of their cars.

Max just kept running.

He did his best not to look up. He couldn’t. News drones would be circling in minutes, capturing the chaos for the morning bulletins.

Max stopped for a moment to gather his direction. He was only a few blocks from Grand Central, and only a few more from where Anton was waiting.

He started to run down the sidewalk. It was just a few blocks. His long strides gave him speed he didn’t know he had.

Max rounded the corner and ran across 5th Avenue—the traffic swerving around him, drivers yelling out their windows. Max didn’t care. He just kept running.

Eventually he caught sight of Grand Central Station. It was just in time. He was starting to run out of breath.

He ran into the station and slowed to a walk. He put his hands on his head. There were no drones in here. No one was following. Hopefully anyone watching would think he was on a train, going somewhere. But he had another two blocks to go. He needed to catch his breath.

It was only two blocks from the station, but it might as well have been ten blocks because he needed to be out in the open again. It was a dangerous play, but without a passport, there was no chance Max was getting out of the USA, and there was no way he was going back to his apartment now.

If he ran, then he might be able to make it. It was only two long New York City blocks. He was in gym gear too. Thom’s last little present for him.

He strode his way to the northeast entrance and pretended to stretch a little. There was a homeless guy sitting near the entrance. There was no way he was going to risk this run with the bag, so he handed it to the homeless guy. He gave Max a suspicious look, like it was stolen or something.

Max just smiled. For a moment he thought about giving this guy the original USB drive that was still shoved down the front of his underwear. He could tell him to take it to the AP. Tell him to give it to someone there. Claim the reward. Just in case.

That was stupid thinking.

Max was going to deliver it himself. He was going to hand it to Anton, and together they would work out what to do. The money was on its way, and now he could bring them all down together. He would do it all if Anton could get him out alive.

Max drew a few big breaths. It was time for him to make his dash.

He waited until the lights changed and then bolted out from under the entrance way.

Max sprinted across Lexington Avenue, maybe faster than his legs had ever carried him before. He wore someone else’s gym clothes, had a USB pen drive shoved down the front of his underpants, and was running for his life. The trail of money and deceit had finally caught up with him. But the paycheck of a lifetime was almost his. All Max had to do was make it before they found him.

He flew down 42nd Street, keeping a lookout for a break in traffic. Head down, his vision never drifted upward, avoiding any eyes in the sky. He only had a few minutes at best. Again and again, his mouth sucked in the already hot morning air.

The traffic gap came, and Max bolted across 42nd outside Foot Locker. Another stroke of luck gave him 3rdAvenue. The traffic lights were on his side. There was no way anyone could get a drone in the sky in time. He was going to make it.

The small USB drive shoved down the front of his underwear was by now surely covered in sweat—just the way he had been given it. That small drive had cost too much.

He kept running.

He rounded the corner and saw his friend standing with two security guards on the sidewalk across the street. Max knew they were looking for him. If he could get to them, he would be safe. Fifty yards was all. Fifty yards from surviving the worst four days of his life. He could make it.

He looked down 2nd Avenue. The traffic was thick and moving fast. Trucks rolled down the street, never giving a thought to braking. He had no way of getting across until the lights changed. He jogged lightly on the spot, ready to pounce on any opportunity. Max’s eyes darted back and forth, looking, hoping, praying for enough of a gap to make his move. But too many cars moved too quickly. His heart raced. He was almost there.

He glanced over his shoulder. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but it felt right. It was instinct now. He was on a busy New York City sidewalk, surrounded by the first suits of the day on their way to work. Any single one of them could be working for the people trying to replace him. Any one of them could be the man with the raspy voice.

Max looked across the road. Two cops stood on the other corner. He could only hope they weren’t involved.

He just had to make it fifty yards.

He glanced up to the metallic-black crossing light suspended on the other side. The blockish red man still told him the same thing: No go. Max wished it—willed it—to change. It had to change. It couldn’t stay red forever.

Then Max saw it. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw it: a single quadcopter hovering above the street. He looked up at it. It was black and still.

Suddenly the small barrel suspended below it flashed, and a single gunshot pierced the air.