“The tourists would see us if we were walking in the middle of them.”
“They’re not the ones trying to take your box away.”
Eddie paused suddenly, clutching the echo box and laptop tightly to his chest. “Who is trying to take the echo box from me?”
Butler floundered. “The people looking for you.”
Eddie turned to Skylar, desperate for reassurance. “Does Dr. Fenton want to take the echo box away from me?”
She wanted to lie to him. But she also knew she couldn’t. Skylar glared at Butler briefly before reluctantly answering Eddie. “Yes, Eddie, I think that is what he intends to do.”
“The echo box is mine!” Eddie attempted to slap himself, but both his hands were mercifully occupied with clutching his devices. He could not strike a clean blow. “I have to hear my mother’s voice! I have to!”
Skylar grabbed his arms and clenched them tightly. She spoke to him in a voice that was soothing but matter-of-fact. “I’m afraid the echo box is property of Harmony House.”
Tears welled up in Eddie’s eyes. “It’s my property. It’s mine!”
“They’re the ones who paid for it.”
“It’s mine!” Eddie started to cry. Butler looked anxious, because they didn’t have time for this.
Skylar had to think quickly. She knew what the echo box meant to Eddie. And what it would do to him if it were taken away. Skylar looked him squarely in the eyes. “Eddie, I promise I will do everything in my power to stop anyone from taking the echo box away from you.”
Eddie took several long breaths, wiping his tears on his sleeve. He believed her. After several more moments, she released him, and they continued through the park.
Butler stopped abruptly as they reached the park’s south side. “This is as far as I go.”
Eddie looked around them to see if there was any kind of physical barrier preventing the detective from going farther. “Why?”
“Because I’m in enough trouble as it is because of you two.” He pointed east toward Varick Street, where dozens of taxicabs were passing in both directions. “Catch a cab uptown. After that, you’re on your own.” He took out his phone.
“Thank you, Detective. For everything.” Skylar’s gratitude was apparent.
He nodded, dialing Detective Lieutenant Daniels as he turned and raced toward his car.
Eddie struggled to keep up with Skylar as they walked quickly to the corner. “Do we have to walk so fast?”
“You don’t want them to catch us, do you?”
Eddie clenched his hands tightly and managed to walk faster, staying by her side. “Why is Detective McHenry in trouble?”
“Because he helped us.”
“Isn’t that what police officers are supposed to do?”
“In this case, it was against the rules.”
“So why did he help us?”
“Because sometimes, to do what you think is right, you have to break the rules.”
Eddie nodded—not because he understood, but because he wanted Skylar to think he did. “Detective McHenry gave me graham crackers and milk at his mother’s house. He shouldn’t get in trouble for that.”
“I don’t think he should, either.” That was when Skylar saw him. Lutz. On the hunt. He was only a block away, frantically scanning the area. Skylar concentrated, trying not to let panic seep into her voice. “Have you ever ridden inside a taxicab, Eddie?” She waved at passing cabs, praying one would stop.
Eddie nodded. “Yes, when I was younger. I have ridden inside twenty-seven taxicabs, except for the ones I can’t remember as a baby.” He imitated her actions, waving at the passing cabs. It wasn’t subtle.
That was when Lutz spotted them. The former special operative started running toward them with impressive speed.
Skylar could see Lutz closing in from behind Eddie. A shark locked on its prey. Fortunately, Eddie could not see him.
A cab quickly stopped in front of Skylar and Eddie. “Would you like to ride in your twenty-eighth cab?”
“No. Twenty-seven is three squared, which makes it a much better number than twenty-eight, which is four times seven, or two times two times seven, and not nearly as interesting.”
Lutz was closing in. He was less than half a block away.
“What if I said please?” Skylar pleaded.
He shook his head. “The answer would still be no.”
She was on the verge of losing it. “Would you get in the cab if I asked you to do it for me anyway?”
Eddie stared at the sidewalk. “Yes, I would do it for you anyway, Skylar.”
Thank God. She quickly opened the door and helped Eddie get inside the cab. Skylar rushed in the other side and gave the driver a very simple command: “Drive!”
The Afghan driver may not have understood much English, but he did understand this particular instruction. His passengers’ heads were thrown back into the seat as he stepped on the gas.
Lutz came within eight feet of the rear bumper as he ran after the cab. He did not give up the chase for another two blocks. The man was incredibly fast. But man versus automobile was never much of a contest. Whoever had the better technology would always win this race, or any other.
Through the rear window, Eddie watched Lutz fade into the distance. Surprisingly, Eddie was not concerned. “This is kind of a game, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Like tag?”
“Like tag.”
“I don’t like tag, because people touch you when they tag you, and you’re it.”
“Then I’ll try to make sure no one tags you.”
Eddie stared out the windows, marveling at the many tall buildings all around them. “What if someone tags you, Skylar?”
“I won’t like it, either.”
“Then I will try to make sure no one tags you, either.”
CHAPTER 54
Varick Street, New York City, May 27, 4:47 p.m.
Lutz and Hirsch had split up when Homeland began their search inside the Sixth Precinct. Hirsch had remained by the precinct entrance while Lutz searched the perimeter, which was how he had come upon Skylar and Eddie. As the cab waded into a sea of others, Lutz focused his gaze on the vehicle’s license plate. It was a combination of four letters or numbers, as opposed to the usual seven required on passenger vehicles. These four letters or numbers also appeared on the vehicle’s top light, which was mounted on the roof beneath a Nautica advertisement featuring a nicely tanned man on a boat.
Unfortunately, Lutz could only make out two of the four identifiers on the license plate: 5E. He quickly punched the letter and number into his phone; he would later transmit them to Barnes, with the full knowledge that without at least one more digit, those two were practically useless, because they led to 1,296 license-plate possibilities. There was barely enough time to narrow it down from thirteen cabs, much less thirteen hundred.
Lutz quickly ducked into a Popeyes and waited in line as Homeland Security agents and NYPD officers rapidly expanded their perimeter around the station. The other customers all turned toward the street to see what the commotion was about. The agents and officers paid no attention to him or the other customers, or to the particular cab containing Skylar and Eddie, among the hundreds of others in view. It was just one of many other yellow metal fish swimming toward Midtown. Lutz may have only had half of the cab’s license plate, but it was still more than they had.
CHAPTER 55
Deputy Inspector Nataro’s Office, Sixth Precinct, May 27, 5:03 p.m.
Detective McHenry had just finished giving his fictionalized account of the suspects’ escape to his superiors and DHS Agent Raines inside the deputy inspector’s office. Butler knew the agent wasn’t buying a word of it, but he had no intention of offering any more than he was asked to.
Raines looked amused. “Is that it?”
“That’s all I can tell you.” Butler glanced calmly at Nataro and Daniels. Poker players at a table, except that they were all standing. Nobody was giving away anything.
“And this recording they played for you. You believe it’s legitimate?”
“I do.” Butler had to restrain himself from clarifying that what they had heard was not a recording.
“What makes you so sure?”