Page 29 of Illusive
“I don’t have the authority to make a statement, let alone one that’s off the cuff.”
“Fine.” Gideon looked at one of the doormen. “Dwayne, would you ask them to move back, please?”
“Yes, Mr. Cross. Of course.” The doorman stepped outside and, with both arms outstretched, managed to move everyone back to the edge of the sidewalk.
Gideon hunched his shoulders, lowered his head, and pushed out the door. The female detective was directly beside him. He walked at an unhurried pace, almost strolling.
“Ya think the Crosses would have better coffee,” he said, adopting a thick Brooklyn accent.
“Yeah, well… No accounting for taste,” she returned, keeping pace with him and placing herself between him and the crowd on the street.
“Detectives!” someone shouted. “Any news on Ireland Vidal?”
“Above our pay grade,” she threw over her shoulder.
“At this time,” Wade’s voice broke in behind them, “we don’t have any further details. But listen, keep sharing the tip line number. Someone, somewhere, saw something or knows something that can be helpful.”
Gideon’s pace picked up as they crossed the street, and they continued walking briskly until the crowd was some distance behind them. He glanced around, looking for a reporter or photographer. When none was spotted, he broke into a run.
As he was about to race across another crosswalk, a black SUV squealed to a halt in front of him, stopping them in their tracks.
The window rolled down, revealing Chase in the passenger seat. “Get in.”
Skirting the rear of the vehicle, Gideon took the seat behind the driver. The detective slid in beside him, and Raúl took off, whipping around the corner while the light was still green and speeding down Fifth Avenue. Dawn had given way to the sunrise.
“Victor call you?” Gideon asked.
“Yeah.” Chase unfastened his seat belt and shrugged out of his black suit jacket. “Exposing yourself on the street isn’t the best idea, boss. Reach into the cargo area and put on a vest.”
“Standing in for the NYPD is also not smart,” the detective snapped.
Gideon glanced at the detective as he moved between their seats and into the third row. “Sorry, I didn’t get your name.”
“Hernandez.”
Chase threw his jacket onto Gideon’s seat.
“At this time of morning, the Terrace won’t be crowded,” Hernandez noted, “but some civilians will be in the area. I doubt the officers stationed in the park have had time to evacuate. I’ll take the west staircase and sweep the Arcade. Don’t come in until I give the okay.”
“Understood.”
“You two in the front, even if you see imminent danger, don’t draw your weapon unless you’re a crack shot. You hit a civilian, and you’re going in a cage.”
“Don’t worry about us,” Raúl reassured her.
Hernandez opened the backpack he’d grabbed and dumped the contents on the floorboard. She returned a thermos to the bag to give it some visible heft. “They knew what they wereasking was impossible in the time allotted. They’re testing how far you’re willing to go.”
“As far as I have to.” Removing the NYPD windbreaker, Gideon slid the body armor over his head.
“They’re taunting and toying with you, Cross. I’m not saying getting rich isn’t the goal, but needling you isn’t necessary. They may not know you, but I think they dislike you, and that’s a far cry from viewing you as an ATM. I wouldn’t rule out a sniper, and there’s zero cover on those Terrace steps.”
“It’s not as if I have a choice.” He reached for Chase’s jacket and put it on. “You want more time, but they’re not giving it to us. I can’t stand around doing nothing when they’ve made a demand.”
Lifting her head as they pulled up to the Engineers’ Gate at 72ndand Fifth, Hernandez scanned the area. “The Terrace is a mile from here.”
But Gideon was already out of the car and running. He could boast a six-minute mile in good conditions, but the armor added close to ten pounds, Chase’s jacket fit poorly across his shoulders, the ill-fitting shoes quickly blistered his feet, and the heavy thermos threw off his balance. Still, he poured everything he had into the sprint, highly conscious of the time. It was the longest stretch of minutes in his life.
He left Hernandez behind at some point. His team did better at keeping up, with Raúl taking the stairs alongside him as Chase remained on the vantage point of the Upper Terrace. The steady cascade of the Fountain drove his unyielding urgency higher. Dropping the backpack on the top step as instructed, Gideon raced down the stairs. There were at least a dozen people milling around the fountain, and he looked at every one, wondering if any of them had something to do with Ireland’s abduction.
