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Authors: Robin Parrish

BOOK: Vigilante
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Eventually, after all the work he could do had been done, Nolan managed to locate an ambulance that wasn’t in use on the western edge of the park, where he ducked inside. He helped himself to some oxygen, breathing through a clear mask.

The vehicle’s driver had left the radio on, and he sat on the floor, breathing as slowly as possible, as the station cut to a live press conference at the White House, where the president was making a statement about last night’s tragedy in Battery Park.

Nolan had watched his old friend closely as he rose to power and became president. Hastings was never one to wear his heart on his sleeve; he was more calculating than that, more careful with his choices of words. But this was one occasion when the president simply couldn’t keep the emotion out of his voice. In his mind’s eye, Nolan could see the pools of water in his friend’s eyes, the uncharacteristic pallor to his cheeks.

“To the people of New York, I make a solemn pledge to discover the culprit or culprits behind this disgraceful attack, no matter who it is or where the search takes us. Be it a villain residing on our own soil or a terrorist operating elsewhere, we will find them.


To whomever is responsible for last night’s events: the blood of the NYPD and several innocent civilians is on your hands, and you will be held accountable. If you thought that an assault on the men and women sworn to keep us safe would deplete the city’s manpower or undermine this great nation, you must not know us very well. Americans do not bow down to cowards. We did not start this fight, but I promise you today that we will finish it.

Nolan couldn’t suppress a grim smile. These were fighting words, the very kind of passionate, fiery proclamations that had gotten Hastings elected in the first place. His zero tolerance policy for crime and his charismatic zeal had been a breath of fresh air for a nation that was tired of impotent leaders who never managed to make any real, lasting change. This was the man they’d put their faith in, and maybe this tragedy would be just the kick in the pants that Hastings needed to plow past Congress and get some things done.


Finally, I want to send one final message—to the individual known as The Hand,
” Hastings continued, and Nolan sat up straight as a rod, alarmed. “
There are those who have questioned your actions, your resolve, your reasons for doing what you do. Last night you answered those criticisms with your tireless, selfless work in the South Street Viaduct. You demonstrated the quality of your character beyond any doubt. On behalf of America, you have my gratitude and my respect. It would be my honor if someday we could find a common ground to build on, that we might work together to make a brighter tomorrow. God bless you, sir, and God bless America.

Nolan reached around and turned off the radio, sitting in silence for a very long moment. He wasn’t sure what to think or feel, and was far too tired to engage in either activity.

His last contact with the others was well over an hour ago, so he was glad to hear the crackle of static in his earpiece.

“General,” he said. “I’m sure you heard that, right? I’m still trying to process—”


I didn’t call to speak to The Hand,
” said a voice in Nolan’s ear that he didn’t recognize. “
Take off the hood for a moment. I want to talk to Nolan Gray.

47

T
he voice on the other end of the line was male, with a heavy accent, and it bore an unmistakable tone of self-satisfaction.

“Who is this?”

The voice turned bitter, harsh. “
I am not a husband. Nor am I a father. I used to be both. But that was before you took my family from me.

Nolan sat up rigid but perfectly still.

It was
him
. That man at the botched OCI raid. Russian Mafia, Branford had said. What was his name . . . ?

Vasko
.

“I didn’t kill your family,” said Nolan, bursting from the back of the ambulance and scanning the area, hoping to set eyes on the man. “They were dead before I got there.”


In your own hand you held the gun that killed my wife. It was still warm when I knocked it out of your grasp. At least have the decency to own your actions.

It struck Nolan that nothing he ever said would be enough to convince Vasko that he wasn’t responsible for what happened that night. He would never believe anything but what he’d seen with his own eyes.


You have made it your personal mission to save people, yes?
” Vasko went on. “
You are a failure, Nolan. A hypocrite. You’re not better than the rest of us. You’re much worse. A lying, conniving, highly functional sociopath.

Sounds like you’re describing yourself, pal
, Nolan thought. The dark night had just given way to morning, with the faintest hints of light dancing on the edge of the eastern horizon. He used his goggles to zoom and search, looking everywhere for this man who had broken into his com line.


Oh, I’m not in any of those buildings,
” said Vasko. “
Those glasses of yours are impressive. Everything you see—it’s transmitted back here to your underground lair, yes?

Nolan’s world stopped dead, and he felt an icy sweat pepper his forehead. His skin became damp and cold, and there was even colder blood pumping beneath it.

There was no disaster zone around him anymore, there was no sun just entering the skyline, no rescue workers or media or victims or dead bodies. There was no one but himself and this man in his ear.

This man named Vasko who was talking to him from inside the subway platform Nolan called home, right now.

This isn’t happening.

And then came an even worse thought. He wouldn’t have thought it possible for there to be anything worse than a Mafioso infiltrating his home when he wasn’t there. But as crazy as it sounded, this hunch
felt
true. And Nolan knew to trust these kinds of feelings.

This feeling was telling him that this entire disaster at Battery Park had been orchestrated by Vasko, as a means of getting him out of the way.

The bursts of static he’d been hearing all night that started as the sound of what he thought was crumpling paper, heard over the line back inside Agnes Ellerbee’s apartment. That static was Vasko, breaking in to the line and tracing it back to the subway platform.


Yes, I am here inside your ‘lair,’ Mr. Gray,
” gloated Vasko. “
Couldn’t resist taking a poke around. You have some truly cutting-edge equipment here. Fabulous stuff. I may have to help myself to a few things before my men torch the place.

Nolan faltered for just a second. “It’s not a ‘lair.’ It’s my home.”


Please,
” Vasko scoffed. “
You’ve fashioned this ‘masked crusader’ persona for yourself, steeped in the mythical archetypes of pulp fiction and comic book vigilantes. Of course it’s a lair.

“Where are my people?” Nolan demanded.


Where else would they be? The Hand would be nothing without his loyal support staff, yes? The elderly gentleman doesn’t look well at the moment; I’m afraid my men have been rather rough with him. They tried to get him to give up his passwords for your amazing surveillance network and database. You’ll be happy to know he never told them, but from the looks of it, I believe his spleen has been ruptured.


You leave them alone!
” Nolan shouted, not caring about who might be overhearing his voice where he paced on the edge of the park.


Now, the young man—he was much more helpful. He tried to be brave, but after losing a few teeth and then one of his fingers, he broke very quickly. Told us all about the wonderful contraptions he’s built for you.

“Listen to me very carefully. You hurt my people, and this will come back on you and yours,” Nolan seethed, already looking for the easiest way out of the park and back into the heart of Manhattan.


You do not frighten me, Mr. Gray,
” Vasko replied calmly. “
After all, I have nothing left to lose. Besides, I am one of the few who has seen the ‘real’ Nolan Gray.

“You’ve seen what I allowed you to see, what I’ve allowed the whole world to see,” Nolan said, his breaths coming faster and faster now. “You have no concept of what I’m really capable of.”


What I understand is that people do what they do because of the relationships they have. Love, hate, and the wide spectrum between. The laws of society are out the window when it comes to the people that matter to us. I wonder how far you will go, what laws you will break, to save the people that matter to you.

“Don’t you dare—”


Now, I must confess,
” Vasko went on, ignoring Nolan, “
I have not yet discovered your purpose for keeping the woman here. She is too old to be your lover, and her race would indicate that she is no relative of yours. My people have not had the chance to interrogate her yet. I do not imagine you would save us the trouble?


Don’t you touch her!
” Nolan screamed, spit flying from his mouth with the words. “
When I get my hands around—


There’s one other thing I was calling to tell you,
” said Vasko, his tone light and conversational. It made Nolan sick to the stomach how much the man was enjoying this. “
I have lined this subway platform with dynamite, and attached those explosives to a timer. My family was found dead in a fire, and
 . . .
well, I’m an ‘eye for an eye’ kind of person. Perhaps I should have mentioned it earlier: I started the timer when you and I began this conversation.

Nolan’s heart jumped into his throat. It was sick, all of this, a demented, elaborate construction that this man had dedicated significant time and resources to. He closed his eyes and prayed a single sentence of silent prayer before asking the obvious question.

“How much time is left?” His body was wasted and all but broken, but he willed his adrenaline to flow so that he could start running. He ran north, out of the park, beyond a horde of onlookers there to see the aftermath of the tragedy, weaving through traffic and then sprinting past anyone and everyone on the sidewalk.


I am not an evil man, Mr. Gray,
” said Vasko. “
I had no opportunity to prevent the deaths of my loved ones, but I will give one such chance to you. If you are the glorious hero that everyone in this city believes you to be, then it should prove quite easy for you to get here before the timer stops. If your skills are up to the task, you may even be able to disarm the timer before the dynamite is set off. If not, then this time
your
loved ones will pay the price for your failure.


How much time?!
” Nolan repeated, already feeling winded.


My men and I are leaving now,
” he said. “
We are already on our way out. Your friends are here, waiting patiently for you to save them. As for the timer, the last time I looked, I believe there were less than thirteen minutes remaining. My memory is not what it used to be, though. Don’t keep your friends waiting, Mr. Gray.

A high-pitched squeal tore through his earpiece, and he knew that Vasko would be speaking to him no more.

Over fifty blocks in thirteen minutes?!

I’ll never make it!

48

N
olan tore the earpiece out of his ear and threw it down while ripping through the pedestrians gathering on the streets. His training railed against the panic that wanted to take hold of his soul.

He had to go flat-out all the way, pushing himself and his equipment like never before. He didn’t dare stop or even slow down one single time.

Because he wasn’t going to lose them—Branford, Arjay, Alice. They were all he had. And they were
not
going to die today.

Nolan could think of only one way of beating the deadline, just one option for navigating the city as the sun was moving up away from the horizon and scores of New Yorkers were waking up to the news of last night’s disaster at the Battery. They would be coming out of their homes in droves soon, clogging the streets with their desire to gawk and gape at the remnants of Vasko’s orchestrated carnage. He had to avoid them, he couldn’t let them get in his way.

He checked his watch. Less than twelve minutes now, maybe eleven.

It was his only option.

As he crossed Wall Street, he pulled out the grappler and shot it wildly into the sky, aiming randomly for any rooftop its hooks might find. When it latched onto something, he retracted it immediately and was pulled up to the top of a building. He hadn’t been up here before, he didn’t recognize it. It might have been the New York Stock Exchange building, but he didn’t know for sure and didn’t have time to care.

He wheezed hard as he crossed the rooftop, his lungs not at all clear of the smoke and soot he’d inhaled in the viaduct. He had to force himself not to breathe too fast, or he could pass out.

No, that wouldn’t happen. He wouldn’t allow it.

He focused his mind, his senses, his body. He would take this one problem at a time. Later, there would be time to address his own injuries and see about dismantling Vasko’s bomb, but right now, he had to get to his friends. There was nothing else.

Nearing the far edge of this first building’s roof, he held his breath as he fired the grappler again, only horizontally this time, straight out toward the roof of the tallest building on the next block. He never slowed. He jumped free of the roof just as the hook caught on its next target and began reeling him in.

This landing was much sloppier, as he first slammed against the side of the brick building about a dozen meters below the roof. Nolan ignored the pain and let the grappler reel him up to the building’s ledge. He staggered onto the roof but kept running, determined not to falter, not to fail, not to stop until he was home.

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