Cliff Ryder - The Finish Line

"Thanks, I'll let you know if I find anything more. NiteMaster out."

Kate's call was answered on the first ring. "Go for M-One."

"This is Primary, we have a lead. St. Pancras Station. Must warn you that locals are involved."

"MPS?"

"Government."

"Mmm. Just have to watch our steps even more, then. Will report in when we are on-site. M-One out."

"Primary out." Kate disconnected and sat back, rotating her shoulders to relieve some of the tension that had tightened them into knots. She kept a careful watch of the time, waiting to tick off the seconds. When five minutes had elapsed, she dialed a familiar number.

"Hello, Samantha. Yes, we just got something. Our target has been sighted near St. Pancras Station…"

Marlene quickened her pace as she approached the St. Pancras Station, barely glancing up at the refurbished building's Italian gothic facade with its new, ornate clock tower that was currently tolling eight o'clock. She hurried past the bustling rows of brand-new retail shops, cafes, bookstores and bakeries that catered to the commuting and tourist crowd in the packed station. Thousands of travelers flowed to and from the neighboring King's Cross Station, as well as catching or getting off trains heading to Scotland, the East Midlands, Sheffield, Yorkshire and elsewhere.

And of course, there was also the Chunnel rail link, which allowed a passenger to step onto a single high-speed train in London and step off in Paris. If all went well, that was exactly what Marlene planned to do.

She got in line and nervously counted her money — a little over two hundred pounds at the moment. Once she got a ticket, she'd still have to cool her heels at the station for fifteen minutes until the train was ready for boarding. First things first, she thought, concealing her nervous impatience as the line inched forward. At last, she got to the ticket window, and even though it cost more than she would have liked, she secured her seat — the last one in her traveling class — on the eight-thirty train departing for Paris. If she'd had more cash, she would have bought several tickets to different destinations, hoping to confuse anyone monitoring the system. But getting out of the country was the most important goal at the moment, so she had to take the direct route and hope she was still ahead of her pursuers.

Now all she had to do was sit and wait inconspicuously until the train was ready for boarding. Marlene found a bench under the Barlow train shed, which she had read about in the Times having suffered from cost overruns during its restoration. All looked fine now, with new steel framework supporting clear Plexiglas panels that let in the wan English sun. Marlene tried to at least appear as if she was enjoying the morning, but she couldn't help glancing around her, trying to see everywhere at once. Stop it, you only look more suspicious, she thought as she leaned against the back of the bench, trying to blend with the commuting crowd once again.

The announcement to board the London-to-Paris train echoed from the loudspeakers, jolting Marlene into alertness. She pushed off the bench, making sure her laptop case was secure, and walked down the platform, keeping a wary eye on anyone who looked to be taking any sort of interest in her. She saw the doors only a few yards away. Just a few more steps, and she'd be safe…

Marlene felt a hand grip her arm at the same moment something needle-sharp pricked into her back.

"Just keep walking right on past those doors," a tony British voice said in her ear. "We're going to keep going for a few more steps, then you'll stop as if you forgot something, and we'll retrace your steps and walk right out of the terminal. Any attempt to resist me will be met with a painful deterrent." The point of the knife jabbed her rib cage to emphasize the instructions.

Marlene tensed, then forced herself to relax and keep moving with him. "Are you from Mercury?"

"Let's just say my employers are very interested in talking to you about an item of ours that you have in your possession. All right, we're going to stop in the next few steps."

While he spoke, Marlene had been looking around for what she needed. Up ahead, she saw him — a uniformed Metropolitan Police officer patrolling the platform a dozen yards away. She whirled around, pushing the laptop case between herself and her captor to not only break his hold, but also to keep the case between his blade and her body. Before he could grab her again, she picked up the laptop case by its handle and shoved it into his face, knocking him off balance, while screaming.

"Help, police, he's trying to kidnap me! Help, police!"

The effect was immediate. The uniformed officer turned and began trotting toward the scuffle. At the same time an unremarkable man who had been waiting for a nearby train dashed up and tackled the man, sending his blade skittering across the floor.

"Knife, he's got a knife!" Blowing a whistle, the uniformed cop piled onto the melee, and the three men fought and cursed as they wrestled each other. Marlene looked around, fearful that the scuffle had attracted too much attention, but other than a few passersby stopping to stare while giving the struggling, swearing men a wide berth, the platform was still fairly clear. She edged toward the platform, willing the doors to open as if she could pry them apart by her desire to escape alone. For some reason the train still wasn't ready, and she glanced at the main entrance one more time, and that's when she saw them.

Two men, one a lean, blond-haired man with an alert, wary gaze and a slightly hunched posture, as if he was hiding something in his Windbreaker that Marlene certainly didn't want to know about. The other man was pure predator, scanning the crowd with measured sweeps of his gray eyes, his dark brown hair cut short to his skull, his stance alert, ready.

Their gazes met, just for an instant.

Although Marlene had never seen either man before, she knew they were there for her.

"Damn it, of all the times to catch the morning traffic! There's got to be a faster way over there than this!"

Although David usually wished Robert would just shut the hell up, this time he couldn't help agreeing with the wiry Welshman. Even with the congestion-charge plan introduced in central London a few years ago, the morning traffic was still as thick as the city's legendary fog, with the bumper-to-bumper crawl trapping them on Gray's Inn Road, still a half mile away from their destination.

"Isn't there a quicker way than this?" David asked.

"Yup." Cody swiveled in his seat. "Kanelo, you're with David as Team One. Tara and Robert, Team Two. Get out and get up there. I'll stay in touch via cell. If all goes well, by the time I get up there, one of the teams will have spotted her and made contact. Try not to cause a scene — just get her out of the station quietly. I'll meet you by the front entrance. If anything strange goes down, report it immediately."

"What if the other shooters are there?" David asked.

"If any fireworks start, defend yourselves or the target only — do not intervene if other civilians get in the line of fire. Also, we know that MI-6 is on the hunt, as well — so be careful and do not engage them if at all possible. Team One, get out at the next intersection, cut up one, then move over to the station. Team Two, you'll go at the next light, head down one block, then come up the back way. Stay alert and watch for trouble. Team One, you're up."

Robert's eyebrows waggled up and down. "Looks like it's you and me, girlie. Hey, Kan, bet you a tenner we get to her first."

David caught Tara's eyeroll in the side mirror. The tall black man loosened his sport coat and put his hand on the door, ready to move.