*
Isabella crouched beside Luke, their position not the best in the world. They had some cover, but not much. Rising up and shooting would involve exposure, but she saw that Luke was willing to risk it. So was she. A lot of rounds were being expended. Their eyes met and signaled that they would do it together. Luke nodded and up they went.
The platform had gone quiet.
A body lay on the concrete near the train, a second off to the left in the shadows.
“Malone,” Luke called out.
“Here.”
And she saw a dark figure emerge from behind one of the support pillars. He held a gun at his side and rushed toward the man down near the train.
They did the same.
It was Howell.
Luke rolled him over. Howell was breathing, but spewing blood with each exhale, more fluid pouring from two chest wounds.
“Hang in there,” Luke said. “We’ll get you some help. Stay with us.”
Her heart sank.
“Kim used him as a shield,” Malone said.
“We had some issues on the train,” she noted. “All hell broke loose just before we got to the station. Three more are dead on board.”
“The daughter was holding a stack of papers,” Malone said.
She’d seen them, too.
“I’m going after them,” he said. “You two get some help. Don’t let him die.”
And Malone ran off.
*
Hana followed her father as they rushed from the train station and onto the street. She’d seen many a town just like this in China and North Korea. Compact and quiet, the paths through it narrow and angular with abrupt endings. Even worse, they knew nothing of the local geography. Above them stood the chief glory, a cathedral with twin bell towers and ornamental windows, its brightly lit belfries framed by the night, then blurred by the fog.
“We go that way,” her father said.
And he ran up the inclined cobblestones toward the church, turning a corner and disappearing into the darkness.
She glanced behind them and noticed no one.
All of the commotion remained inside.
In the distance she heard sirens.
And knew what that meant.
*
Malone ran through the station toward its street exit. The few attendants on duty were all in a panic, providing enough confusion for him to make his way through the building. He slipped the gun, still in hand, beneath his jacket. Outside, in the mist, he spotted Kim and his daughter rounding a bend, headed up an inclined way between the closed shops toward the cathedral. He saw nothing of the second Korean who’d also left the platform. He doubted he’d fled, so he told himself to proceed with caution.
Sirens in the distance were drawing closer, maybe only a few blocks away.
He hustled off in Kim’s direction.
*
Isabella could see that Howell was in a bad way. Two slugs to the chest could do a great deal of damage. Luke cradled Howell in his lap, the man’s eyes open, his breathing labored, blood still spewing with each exhale. That meant a lung had been pierced. One of the station workers had called the police and an ambulance. Several of the passengers from the train stood off to the side, watching. She wondered if there was a doctor anywhere among them, but her callouts in English for one had gone unanswered.
“Hang in there,” Luke told Howell again. “Stay with me. Help is coming.”
Luke’s gaze up to her asked if that were true, but she could only shake her head and hope.
“Malone shouldn’t have gone alone,” she said. “One of the guys shooting at us is out there, too.”
“I agree,” Luke said. “Go.”
She hadn’t expected that.
“I’ll stay here with Howell. Go. Help Malone.”
She did not need to be told twice, leaving the platform and entering the station. Her gun was inside her coat pocket where she’d concealed it when she and Luke had rushed to Howell. Out the front doors and she caught a glimpse of Malone through the fog, fifty yards away, rushing up an inclined street. The sirens were nearly here, the night air overhead strobed by red glows drawing closer.
She headed after Malone.
Another figure appeared.
To her right. Thirty yards away. Holding a gun and advancing. It had to be the second Korean she’d seen escape the platform during the gunfight. She stopped, gripped her weapon with both hands, and yelled, “Stop. Now.”
Her target hesitated an instant, turned her way, then decided to risk escape, rushing off down the street. The night and the mist complicated things, but the uphill path slowed him just enough. She led him like a bird in flight, then fired. The round slammed into him, jarring his balance. He whirled and tried to swing his gun around.
She shot him again.
He dropped to the cobbles.
*
Malone heard a bang and turned.
Twenty yards back a man holding a gun staggered in the street.
A second bang and the form collapsed.
He rushed back, his own weapon ready, and saw Isabella, just outside the train station, poised to fire.
She lowered her pistol.
A police car appeared behind her, wheeling to the station. Another followed. Uniformed officers emerged. One saw her with the gun and drew his own. Malone was far enough away that he could slip back into the darkness, but Isabella stood exposed in the penumbra of light from the station’s exterior. She wisely remained frozen, her gun still aimed his way, her back to the police. All of the officers had now drawn pistols and were screaming orders her way.
Isabella saw him.
“Go,” she said loud enough for him to hear. “Get out of here.”
Her gun clattered to the street and her arms were raised in surrender. Slowly, she turned and faced the police, who advanced her way with their own weapons still trained.
No one had seen him.
She’d covered his back and taken one for the team.
Which allowed him a chance to get Kim.
SIXTY-FOUR