“Not really something you can argue with, is it?”
“No, it’s not.” Nash turned to Sophia. “We’re going to position ourselves in and around The Vessel. Please notify your team accordingly.”
Sophia’s features morphed into a mixture of surprise and admiration, though Nash would be reluctant to put a percentage on either. Skewing her mouth to the side, she hit her comms device and spoke to her team. Sophia told Alain and Claude to continue their mall entrance surveillance but the rest of them would now be searching The Vessel itself and the immediate surrounding area. Baptiste would continue to guard Pinchot. Their mission was exclusively to identify and neutralise the terrorists.
In quick succession Alain, Claude and Baptiste confirmed their orders and their readiness to proceed. They were set. All they needed now was a target.
Chapter Ten
The crowds grew by the minute. Whether it was the holiday or the reopening of the iconic landmark, Nash wasn’t sure, but what he was certain of was his growing dread.
He and Sophia stood by the base of The Vessel, elevated on a set of steps to see over the heads of the ever-growing crowd. The attraction had opened to much fanfare and those with passes climbed the steps of the massive structure, more closely resembling ants than humans. The crowds were thick, both in the attraction itself and in the surrounding public space connected by the shopping mall.
Nash and Sophia scrutinised every face in the crowd. A headache was forging its way through the back of his skull— the strain was taking its toll. He refused to acknowledge it. He couldn’t afford to.
It was only a half hour or so before the scheduled time of the attack and they had yet to see any sign of terrorists, or more accurately, to knowingly identify any terrorists. There was still a high probability the terrorists would blend in with the crowd and carry out their attacks, killing Nash, Sophia, Eva, Bishop and countless others. Their focus was on every member of the crowd, looking for the tiniest tell—anything—which would give the extremists away and allow Nash and the team to take them down. The non-stop concentration was beginning to drain Nash’s sleep-deprived brain. He stabbed his palms with his fingernails to stay focused.
“I can’t believe you told them.”
Sophia’s eyes remained fixed on the crowd. Nash wasn’t the only one who was having trouble concentrating.
The break in their self-imposed silence was jarring. Besides the regular ten-minute check-ins, they’d stood side by side for the better part of an hour in total focused quiet. Sophia’s gaze was unchanged, totally fixed on examining every face, gesture and change in body language in the ever-increasing crowd.
Not taking his gaze from the milling throng of New Yorkers, Nash replied, “They’re my friends. I didn’t tell them so much as they figured it out.”
“They figured you had a child by looking at your stupid beard?” She stopped and added, “Your beard isn’t stupid, by the way, it’s rather distinguished. Damn you men aging so gracefully.”
Nash accepted the compliment with a bob of his head. “Eva figured something was up and I filled in the gaps.” It was his time to pause. “And don’t you dare chastise me about aging. You’re more beautiful than I remember, and that’s a hell of a thing, let me tell you.”
She elbowed his ribs. “You old smoothy.”
“Enough with the old, thank you very much.”
Sophia let loose one of her legendary belly laughs, part amusement, part tension relief. Nash was conflicted. Here they were, searching for terrorists who had been deceived into perpetrating a hideous and violent act that would take hundreds of blameless lives. They had no plan, no way to identify them. The clock was ticking and the threat of a fiery death increased with every passing second, and yet he couldn’t think of anywhere else in the world he’d rather be than there with Sophia.
“What’s she like, Sabine?”
Sophia’s smile remained in place, but it now held a shade of melancholy. “She’s super smart, although her school results don’t always reflect it. She a little too smart for her class. She devours books. She’s currently ripping through the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy novels.”
“They’ve always been some of my favourites.”
“I know.” Sophia’s voice caught slightly. “That’s why I gave them to her.”
Too shocked to say anything for a moment, Nash worked to compose himself. “Does she know about me?”
“I’ve never lied to her. When she was ready, I told her the truth. She knows about you.”
“Has she asked to meet me?” Nash realised he may have rushed the delivery of the question.
“She has.” There was the slightest hint of hesitancy in her tone, unusual in the strong woman. “I told her one day we may organise a meeting if we’re still all amenable.”
“So you were intending to tell me one day?”
“One day,” Sophia smirked, still scanning the crowd, “but nowhere near as clunkily as I actually did. C’est la vie.”
About to ask more, Nash was distracted. High above the growing crowd a drone buzzed, stationary, adjacent to The Vessel. He watched it hover for several moments before Sophia quietly cleared her throat to regain his wandering attention.
Sophia said, “My father spends his weekends in a field flying those things around with the silliest goggles you’ve ever seen. He’s even teaching Sabine now.”
“Yes,” Nash replied, his attention still focused skyward, “that’s the thing. In a field.”
“I don’t get it.”
Nash pointed up. “You’re not allowed to fly drones in a city, not without getting through a mountain of bureaucratic red tape. Especially not at an attraction where they’re concerned about bad publicity from suicides. They wouldn’t take the risk.”
“So…”
“I’m guessing it’s connected to the terrorists somehow. Surveillance, proof, gloating, whatever.”
“And they only have limited battery power… so…”
They hit their comms buttons simultaneously. A renewed sense of urgency surged through them. Whatever was coming was mere minutes away. With a flurry of chatter, the group redoubled their efforts with a state of resolve Nash would have thought impossible mere minutes ago. Every face, every movement, every piece of body language was scrutinised for any hint of malfeasance.
The crowd was shoulder to shoulder now. The line for The Vessel snaked to the perimeter despite the event being ticketed with specific entry times. Those not in the line were enjoying the first sunny day, even with the still-present chill, and many were laden with shopping bags. Collectively, they were in good holiday spirits.
It was then that Nash saw him.
In the line waiting to get into The Vessel, almost every member of the crowd glanced up to observe the drone as it dipped low before ascending once again.
