Chapter 26 #2
My tracking program flashes. “I’ve got his phone. It’s just pinged off a tower in Georgia.”
“Not sure that means anything,” Logan says. “He could just be out for a ride.”
“Probably in more danger from that damn bike than he is from your friends, Maxie,” Manny jokes. “Send him a text letting him know he might have eyes on him so he sees it as soon as he gets where he’s going.”
I do. And watch as its delivered but not read. I scrub my hand through my hair in frustration.
A screen pops up, blaring red.
“Fuck,” Manny says at the same moment. “Max?”
“I see it.”
Cynnie’s pressed her panic button.
A black window pops up below the warning as Squid begins feeding me information. Signal’s weak; she’s probably still underground. She should reach 86th Street Station in three minutes.
I read that into the call, start a timer on my phone, then ask, “Manny?”
“I’m calling my cousin, see if we can get a transit cop to meet her train. Gimme a minute.”
While he calls his cousin on the force, I try Cynnie. She doesn’t answer, but she might not have good reception. Or she might not be able to take a call. I try a message instead.
Are you safe?
She doesn’t respond but our app pings.
Staring at the bumble chibi with tears running down its face and the Band-Aids on its knees, I free up a hand to rub my chest before my heart bursts through my ribs. “Guys, Cynnie says she’s hurt or scared or something. Fuck!”
“Breathe, Maxie,” Logan says. “We’ll get to her. I’ve got an Uber on the way.”
“It’ll take you twenty minutes at least, Lo.”
“Tell her to stay on the train. She’s safer on the train than on the street. They won’t be able to move her to another vehicle.”
Seeing the sense in that, despite my panic, I text her.
Stay on the train. We’re coming for you.
The app pings. Her chibi with her hands together and stars circling her head. That’s her being a good girl.
“She’s staying on the train.”
I hear doors opening and closing. Logan grunts, “I’m in the car. Find out which train she’s on, Maxie. I don’t want to head for Woodlawn if she’s on the way to the fucking Bronx.”
I text Cynnie.
What train are you on, baby?
The app pings. Her chibi holding up two peace signs.
“She’s on the four train, Lo. Headed to Woodlawn.”
“On it,” Logan answers.
The timer pings. Her train’s reached the station.
“Manny?”
“Hold on,” he says.
I grip the edge of my desk to do just that. After a long, tense minute in which no one says anything, I text her again.
Still on the train, baby?
She responds with her good girl chibi.
“She’s still on the train. Should be past the station now—”
“Result,” Manny cuts in. “Transit’s getting on the train at a hundred and tenth. They’ll work their way from the front of the train to the back. They’re in uniform. Tell her to stand up and raise her right hand when she sees them.”
“Got it.”
I text Cynnie and wait, every muscle rigid, until she responds with another good girl chibi.
“Cynnie knows to signal the transit cops,” I say. “I’m calling an Uber.”
“Maxie, I know this is hell, but we need you where you are. You’re our communication hub. You’ve got resources there you won’t have on the move. I’m twelve minutes away. I’ll bring her straight back to you. Just stay there.”
“Jesus, Lo.”
“I know. It’s hell. I absolutely know how you’re feeling right now. But Cynnie needs you there, mate.”
I blow out a breath. I trust Logan’s judgment. But this might be the hardest command to follow that he’s ever given me.
The next fifteen minutes take three hours. I can’t help myself and text Cynnie constantly. She replies with good girl chibis, but each one makes my heart beat faster, my fingers pound harder on the keys as I search through anything that will get me a live feed of 110th Street station.
I don’t have enough time to hack into the city’s CCTV network—which is locked up even tighter than that fucking NHS database—but there are often vloggers who feel the need to tell the world about the skinny soy hazelnut latte they got on their morning commute.
Unfortunately, the Gen Zers are quiet this morning.
Fucking snowflakes can’t even be noisy when I need them to be.
Finally, finally, Logan’s voice breaks into the tense silence on the line we have open. “I see her, Max. I see her. She’s with two transit cops in the station. She’s okay.”
I sag back into my chair and close my stinging eyes.
“Thank Christ,” Manny sighs.
“I’ll help her make her statement to the cops and then head back, Max. I’m going to hang up and put my phone away. I’ll text if I’m going to be more than a half-hour.”
“Thank you, Lo,” I say, rubbing my eyes.
“No worries, mate,” Logan says, before he clicks off.
“Between watching Logan get hit in the head and this,” Manny says. “You two are shaving decades off my life.”
“Thanks, Man. Ask your cousin what kind of flowers she likes, ‘cause I’m buying her ten dozen.”
“She takes payment in chocolate.”
“Text me her address and I’ll have the entire Hershey’s store delivered.”
Manny chuckles. “You got it. Chill, Maxie. Good guys won today.”
I scrub my hands over my face. “Yeah, once Mac calls in. I’m wiring that fucking bike of his.”
“Good luck with that,” Manny says. “Imma get back on my body. You need anything, call me.”
“I will.” I close the call and take a minute to get my breathing and heartrate under control.
While I wait for Logan to return with my bumble, I check my other phones. There’s only one message from Ness, rather than the slew I expected. It’s short, and not at all sweet.
“Hi, Max. We still need you. No one knows this system like you do. It’s a clean job.
Long distance. You never have to leave your bunker.
Make the smart choice, buddy. We’re watching you.
We’re watching your friends. We’ll make our move soon.
Call me on this number when their lives mean more than your bullshit principles. ”
Rubbing my hands over my face, I save the message to the Cloud. Ness was using a voice modulator again. I don’t expect to get anything out of the message, but Squid might catch something I’m missing. I ping him the link.
Squid: Got it. Saw Logan’s signal meet up with your girl. All safe?
All safe. Thanks for your help.
Squid: Any time.
I tap my desk, contemplating calling Ness and telling him to fuck himself. It’s tempting. So fucking tempting. But it’s not the smart move while Mac’s AWOL. Smarter to wait and make sure he’s safe before giving Ness the middle finger.
Logan, Emily, and Cynnie finally pull up in an Uber. I’m at the front door, waiting for them. Once Cynnie began texting me, saying she was safe and finished giving her statement to the police and on the way, I got too antsy to wait upstairs.
I open the door as she jumps out of the car, hold my arms open, and snatch her up against my chest as soon as she collides with me.
“Oppa! Oppa! Oppa! I was so scared!”
“I have you. I have you, baby. I have you. You’re safe. I’m so proud of you, my brave bee.”
“I don’t want to go home,” she says, peppering my face with kisses. “Want to stay with youz.”
I nod. I want her where I can see her, too.
When Logan and Emily come up the front steps, I hold the door open, then carry my bumble to the elevator. I’m not letting her go and I can’t carry her all the way up to my apartment. She stays wrapped around me, equally unwilling to have any distance between us.
Once we’re in my apartment, I strip off the black sack she wore to be safe on the subway, then wrap her around me again. I carry her to the couch so we can sit and be comfortable, but I don’t let her go.
Logan and Emily sit down on the futon. Emily curls into her daddy’s side.
“Transit cops are pulling the CCTV footage,” Logan says. “But they weren’t hopeful. Although the fuckers gave her a scare, they didn’t do anything criminal. Even if the cops catch them, I’m not sure they can do much more than give them a warning.”
I nod. As soon as she was free to text, Cynnie explained that two men grabbed her as the train neared Lexington Avenue and demanded she come with them.
Showing the presence of mind that comes from being a New Yorker, she immediately began screaming.
When bystanders intervened, she scooted into a corner, hit her panic button, whipped out her phone, and started a livestream to her two million followers.
The two men disappeared into the crowd, but she wasn’t sure they’d left the train.
She felt they were still watching her and she was afraid to do much with her phone other than continue the live stream in case they tried to grab her again.
If I’d thought for a second, I’d have checked her damn social media instead of looking for vloggers at the station she was headed to. Once we’re no longer in crisis mode, I’m setting up alerts on every one of her accounts.
“Max, what do you want to do from here?” Logan asks.
“Take the fight to them,” I say. “When Mac checks in and we know everyone’s safe, we hit back. No more hiding. I’d have let the drones and the bullshit in England go. But they’ve tried to grab my girl. DefCon One, buddy.”
Logan nods. “I’m pulling De Leon back in.”
“No argument from me.”
“Let’s go hunting. Where do we start?”
I take a deep breath, the density of Cynnie’s body against my chest pressing on me like the best weighted blanket.
Her resourcefulness on the train gives me an idea.
“I contact Ness, agree to his terms, start the op, and blow it wide open. Turn a spotlight on the entire fucking thing. Stream it live. All over the internet. Make sure they have nowhere to hide.”
Logan rubs the hand he doesn’t have in Emily’s hair over his face. “What about you? Won’t it expose you?”
“It will,” I admit. “I’ll proxy it as much as fucking possible, but anyone with better skills or resources than me will be able to trace it back.”
“No, Maxie. It paints a huge fucking target on you. And what if it opens you to investigation? What if the feds come knocking on your door?”
“It won’t be on American soil. None of the ops Ness has had me working on have been.”
“What if Interpol comes knocking on your door?”
“Risk I’ve gotta take. I don’t see any other way to turn the tables on them.”
Logan sighs and strokes Emmy’s head. “Okay. For now, okay. But if we come up with a better plan that doesn’t expose you, we go to Plan B.”
“Again, no argument from me. I don’t really want to burn myself, but I don’t know what else to do. Walking away didn’t work. Scorched Earth is all I have left.”
“I’ll help you,” Cynnie says, her voice muffled by my shoulder.
I thought she’d fallen asleep, as pliant as her body has gone against mine.
“Fairy kei and other kawaii artists can be persecuted, particularly in countries with more restrictive social media, like China. They’re experts at hiding their digital identities.
I’ll put out a call over my social media. We’ll have help. You’z see.”
“I believe you, bumble-baby. Thank you.”
She wriggles a little closer. “Anything for you, Oppa.”
I kiss her temple.