Authors: Christopher Smith

Tags: #Horror

You Only Die Twice (28 page)

FROM MANHATTAN WITH REVENGE
The Fifth Avenue Series

By Christopher Smith

BOOK ONE

CHAPTER ONE

She was being followed. She was aware of it. And she was
prepared to act when they acted.

If they have a chance.

It was nighttime in Manhattan. Past eleven. Earlier, she tried
to sleep, but since sleep no longer came as easily as it used to, she was
walking down Fifth, because outside, the city offered distractions she needed
to lean on right now.

The Park was next to her. The cool fall breeze carried with it
the smells of the city—exhaust from the cabs darting past her to her
left, the rot of damp foliage off to her right, but also a crispness that
hadn’t been in the mix when she was here three weeks ago.

Winter was coming. It was right at her back, not unlike the
sound of those shoes keeping time with hers as she strolled down the sidewalk.

Carmen Gragera listened to those shoes. She first became aware
of them when she turned onto Fifth from Eighty-First Street, where she kept an
apartment. At some point, she knew they’d find her, especially since she was
back in the city.

What they didn’t know is that she also had come back for them.

She had returned to Manhattan three days ago, after burying her
fellow assassin and lover, Alex Williams, in Bora Bora, where he was murdered
while they were on vacation. There, they had been making plans to leave their
professional lives as assassins behind so they could be together in a tropical
paradise that offered a measure of security due to the sheer remoteness the
island provided.

But with his murder and the burning down of her longtime home,
it proved a costly assumption. For reasons that still were unclear to her, the
syndicate she and Alex worked for killed Alex and tried to kill her. She
managed to escape, but now they were after her.

After all, the sound of those shoes didn’t lie.

She could tell by the definitive strike of the footfalls that
they belonged to a man. When would he act? She didn’t know, but in her coat
pocket was her Glock; her hand was wrapped around it and she’d use it if
necessary.

Unless he shot her in the back, which was possible, though it
would be stupid on his part given that they were on Fifth, which was alive with
traffic.

She could feel him behind her. The footsteps were coming
closer. She kept her pace steady, her body loose. Fifty feet. Forty. Closing
the gap and doing so in such a way that was so obvious, it was amateurish. Why
was he giving himself away like this?

He was probably twenty feet away from her when she approached
Seventy-Seventh Street. The traffic light was red and there was a line of cabs
waiting for the light to change. Grab one? Plenty were empty. But if the light
didn’t change quickly, he might be brazen enough to approach the cab and shoot
her, because otherwise, he would have missed his chance and disappointed
whoever hired him.

Best to move on.

She looked as far down the sidewalk as she could and saw others
coming toward her. The area was well lit, just bright enough to quell a murder,
unless the man following her was determined to take her out. Again possible,
but again, stupid. Still, who knew what his orders were? Who knew if he was
just young and naive enough to believe he could pull this off? If he was, she
was ready for it.

In fact, when the light turned green and traffic roared to
life, she decided she’d had enough. She stopped and faced him.

He also stopped. Their eyes met. He wasn’t the young man she
was expecting. Instead, he looked somewhere in his late thirties. Tall. Brown
hair. Good looking. Wearing a knee-length black coat to keep out the cold and
also to better conceal whatever he was carrying.

“Carmen Gragera?” he asked.

She watched his hands. Said nothing. A couple brushed past
them, the woman’s head on the man’s shoulder. Carmen could smell the flowery
perfume the woman left in her wake.

“You and I should talk,” he said. “I’m a friend of Alex
Williams.”

“That’s your first mistake,” she said. “Alex didn’t have any
friends.”

His brow furrowed. “What gives you that idea?”

“Maybe you meant to say you were colleagues?”

“That’s not what I meant to say. I was his friend. Since
childhood.”

“Then you know Alex well. Where did he grow up?”

“Indianapolis.”

Anyone could know that, but only those closest to Alex would
know what she was about to ask. During their last two weeks together, when they
spoke freely about their private lives, he brought up the one topic that
haunted him most. It was something he said he’d never be able to live down. Not
with himself, not with his family.

“What was Alex’s biggest regret?”

“There were a few things.”

“Why not take a shot at one of them?”

“Should I start with his family?”

“If you want.”

“OK, so you want the obvious one. Alex regretted not being
there for his father’s death. He had the opportunity to catch a flight and
spend some time with him, but instead he chose to take another job. He thought
his father had more time. He was wrong. He died while Alex was away. Alex
regretted that, and when he asked me if I agreed that he’d made a mistake, I
told him that he had. He knew better. He should have been there.”

It was the correct answer. He took a step closer and she took a
step back.
Watch his hands.

“I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Even if you were, I’d kill you first.”

“I’m here to help you.”

“Help me with what?”

“I work for Katzev.” He raised his eyebrows as if in
bemusement. “Strike that. I used to work for Katzev. Now, he wants me dead just
like he wants you dead. If we talk frankly, we might be able to help each
other. I think that would be a smart idea.”

“How do I know you’re not working for him now?”

“You don’t.”

“Well, there’s a balm of reassurance. Take your hands out of
your pockets.”

He did.

“Who are you?”

He looked around him. “We should get a cab,” he said. “I’ll
tell you what you want to know inside. Right now, we’re too exposed.”

“Can’t handle it?”

“After what happened last night, I’ll admit I’m on edge.”

“What happened last night?”

“They came after me. I’m lucky to be alive.”

“I wonder how lucky that makes me.”

He didn’t answer.

“How did you find me?”

“Do you want the 101 version, Carmen? I used my contacts. You
were seen at LaGuardia. You were followed to your apartment on Fifth and
Eighty-First. Done.”

“Bullshit. I wasn’t followed.”

“Sorry, but you were.”

“Nobody followed me. I would have known.”

“Apparently, you didn’t, because you were followed, just as you
and Alex were followed to Bora Bora.” He paused. “Which you also knew about.
Right?”

Obviously, she didn’t know. Point taken.

“I received a call from Alex not long before his death. It was
just before you went to the island. He told me he was in love with you, which
concerned me. You have a reputation for being arrogant. I told him to stay away
from you.”

“I wish he had. He’d be alive now.”

“We don’t know that. All we know is that Alex and you were
targeted, and now I am too. Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then maybe we should help each other figure it out before we
both wind up dead.”

“What’s your name?”

He didn’t answer.

She sighed. “Then, what do you want me to call you?”

“Jake.”

“Jake?”

“You got something better?”

“I’m Carmen Gragera,” she said. “But you already know that.
We’ll call you Jake for now. When you’re comfortable telling me the truth and
that your name is probably Hamlisch, or worse, we’ll likely be on better terms.
As for now, you’re Jake.” She nodded at the street. “So, Jake, let’s grab that
cab so you can tell me everything you think I need to know. I’m eager to hear.”