Chapter 27 Eddie

27

Eddie

The lobby of the Cardozo was always busy, day or night.

More business was conducted on the grounds of this hotel than in the US congress. I had hoped to get more of a reaction from Ellis. Feel him out. But he was too damn abrasive. Still, Harry was right – we'd gotten some important information. Somebody was blackmailing him too.

Bloch stood as she saw us, walked ahead to make sure the street was clear.

Lake stepped in behind us, making sure there was no one in the lobby who had managed to go unnoticed and would now make their move.

Harry made it through the revolving doors first and into the bright sun. I followed him. He stopped. Bloch was straight ahead. Stationary. A van drove past, from left to right. Her gaze followed the van. I noticed the driver wasn't looking at the road.

He was looking at Bloch. His eyes were hidden behind wraparound tactical shades. His beard was long and thick and brown and hung over his chest.

Harry and I stood on the sidewalk. Waiting for Bloch to give us the all clear. She followed the path of the van as it got to the end of the block and made a turn.

I had the sudden feeling that something was wrong. Bloch turned her head side to side – scanning the rest of the street. Lake came out of the hotel and stood behind me.

‘Are we good?' he asked.

Bloch said nothing.

‘You see something?' he asked.

Bloch said, ‘No.'

‘Then why are we standing here?' asked Lake.

‘Because I feel something,' said Bloch.

I felt it too. An electricity in the air. The sun was already over the building directly opposite us. Coming from the muted lighting of the hotel into a neon furnace of sunlight momentarily blinded me.

Then things happened all at once.

Someone stood in front of me, blocking the sun. My eyes couldn't adjust immediately.

I blinked and something wet hit my face.

I flinched and at the same time I heard a sound. Unmistakable.

A gunshot.

At the same time as something wet slapped me, I realized I was falling. A force, hitting my chest, throwing me to the ground with tremendous velocity.

The back of my head hit the sidewalk. I don't know if I blacked out, but I couldn't see anything for a few seconds. My eyes couldn't focus.

There was a weight on my chest. I wiped my face. Something red on my fingers.

Blood.

I tried to move, but I couldn't.

Something was pinning me to the ground.

The back of my head was wet, blood running down my neck and into my shirt collar, my heart thumping in my temples.

Then, inexplicably, the weight lifted off me.

I sat up.

Harry was on the ground. He'd fallen into me, knocking me over. His shoulder must've hit my chest.

I looked down at the blood gushing from his stomach. He gazed up at me. Lake flung himself on the ground, planted both hands on Harry's belly and cried out for somebody to call a paramedic. Blood, glistening in the sunlight, pooled over Lake's fingers.

Everything was quiet.

Harry tried to talk. I took his hand. He coughed and more blood spat from his lips.

Suddenly, it wasn't quiet any more. Bloch, still on her feet in front of me, was firing that hand cannon. Pointed up. At first, I thought she was shooting at the sun, then I heard glass breaking and chunks of masonry falling into the street.

She was shooting at a window, high on the building opposite.

I told Harry I loved him.

He squeezed my hand.

I told him to hold on.

He gripped tighter.

Lake was screaming at him to stay awake.

Harry's eyes began to close.

Bloch reloaded, let out a howl of anger and grief and shock and then emptied another load at the building.

As the echoes of gunfire faded in the steel, concrete and glass canyons of Manhattan, I heard a siren in the distance.

Harry's fingers went limp.