Джеймс Паттерсон - Ambush

He had taken her for drinks at a sports bar called the Hill. It was a younger crowd, but she appreciated his showing her new places. Then they strolled down Third Avenue to a little Italian place named Bistango, and she tried not slurp down clams marinara in an unladylike manner.

After dinner, Tom calmly accepted Alex’s decision to catch a cab back to her hotel. A quick kiss good night turned into just a little more. Enough to make Alex wonder if she was making the right choice, leaving this handsome, horse-loving man for the evening. But it was for the best.

After they parted, she wanted to walk instead of ride in a cab. That’s when it happened. She realized she was getting sloppy. Someone was following her. She knew it wasn’t the police. This was a pretty young woman with short dark hair, wearing a skirt no cop would wear, even undercover.

This was something Alex had dealt with once before. In Madrid, two years ago, some members of a local gang started to follow her. They were subtle, but not nearly as subtle as this young woman now. In Madrid, Alex simply kept walking until she found a police officer and chatted with him. It only took about twenty minutes for the gang to lose interest and wander away.

Ironically, this time she was coming from talking to a police officer. And she had no idea who would want to follow her.

She worked out a plan in her head anyway. She turned east, toward the river. She wasn’t far from the United Nations building. Once she had gone a couple of blocks, she made another assessment. The woman was still back there.

Alex didn’t like to commit violence she wasn’t being paid for. Especially violence against a woman. She would do what she had to, but she didn’t relish the idea of using her stiletto on this woman, who was using a phone to call out Alex’s movements to someone else.

Alex led the woman down to the FDR Drive, then found a place to cross.

She had the river on one side of her. Now she focused on what was coming toward her.

Alex was now on the banks of the East River, and she no longer saw the young woman who had been following her. That didn’t mean she was no longer in danger. She sat on a bench to wait. A few minutes later, she saw the two men.

Both men were young. One looked to be in his midtwenties and a little on the heavy side. The other one was tall and lean with long, straight hair.

Alex needed to draw them closer. She dug out her iPhone from her purse, leaving her stiletto and pistol within easy reach. She pretended to be engrossed in texting, but in fact she turned on her camera and was watching the men as they approached.

Alex made a quick survey of the area to ensure there were no witnesses close by. She even had a moment to enjoy the view of the East River and the relative quiet compared to the rest of the city.

As the men came closer, Alex casually dropped her right hand to her purse and gripped her stiletto. She rested the stiletto in her lap and suppressed a smile as the men came blundering into her trap.

She felt a change in her breathing, and her heart rate picked up. It was more excitement than fear. These were the types of challenges she had to overcome in her profession. One of the biggest things in her favor was the fact that men tended to underestimate a woman. That was their choice. She’d make them regret it.

Now they were close. She could tell they were Hispanic. Her guess was that they were Dominicans.

The heavier one said in Spanish, “Hello, beautiful. Why would you be sitting alone on a lovely night like this?”

Alex said, “Unfortunately, I am not alone. I’m being bothered by a couple of assholes who showed up uninvited.”

The chubby man let out a laugh. “Show me where they are, and we’ll get rid of them for you.” He looked to his thinner friend for support.

The young man drew a long fixed-blade knife from behind his back. His smile told her he enjoyed terrorizing women.

Alex stood quickly, pressing the button to extend her stiletto as she came to her feet. The movement clearly took both men by surprise.

She leaned back as the young man with the knife took a wide swipe at her. After all her training and experience, it felt like it took place in slow motion. But the young man meant business. It was a blow designed to kill her. And he had aimed it at her throat.

Now she felt anger at the way these men would treat a person, not to mention a woman. She took two steps and let the men bump into each other as they tried to grab her.

Now she stepped to the far end of the bench. She needed them to come to her.

“I hope whoever you work for didn’t pay you too much. You must be new to this.”

It was an insult — and, more important, it was an insult coming from a woman. She knew that would force one of them to come at her.

It was the heavier man who moved first. He stepped forward, still unaware that she had a weapon in her hand. He reached behind him as though he had a gun. She wasn’t going to wait to find out if he really did.

Alex took a step to the side and then, almost like a ballerina, shifted her weight and stood up on her toes as she drove the stiletto into the man’s solar plexus and up into his heart.

She knew she had hit the target immediately. The way the man stopped midmotion, and the way his eyes went blank, instantly told her he was out of the fight.

As she stepped away, pulling the stiletto from his chest, the man crumpled and tipped over the low seawall into the East River. She couldn’t have planned it any better.

She had no time to admire her handiwork and immediately had to parry a lunge from the man with the big knife. It was a good thrust, but all she had to do was turn sideways, and the blade missed her completely.

She grabbed the young man’s wrist with her left hand and drove the butt of the stiletto hard into his forehead.

She caught him as he lost consciousness. She said, “Have a good sleep. You’re going to need it.”

I was sitting on the couch trying to hide how tired I was from Mary Catherine and Juliana. I was recovering, but the long days seemed to hit me hard in the evenings.

I never wanted to say anything to the family, because I cherished these evenings at home with the children. Working on school projects, talking sports, listening to their dreams and hopes. It was magical. Usually.

At the moment, I was in a serious conversation with Juliana. I know that an eighteen-year-old in New York can legally make her own choices. But that’s not what parenting is all about. I’m not naive. Sometimes you can’t be the fun dad who always cracks jokes. This was one of those times.

Juliana said, “You don’t even know Cade.”

I said, “You mean Carter?”

“I mean the man I’m currently dating.”

That stung a little bit. I didn’t like to think of my daughters dating. But I was realistic. She was a beautiful girl, and now she was going to be on TV. I had to watch what I was going to say.

“You mean the twenty-six-year-old man you are currently dating.” So much for watching what I said.

“I’m legally an adult. It doesn’t matter how old he is.”

Now Mary Catherine leaned in and said, “This isn’t getting us anywhere. Let’s take a break and talk about it tomorrow.”

With that, Juliana stood up quickly and said, “Fine.” She stormed out of the room and left me shaken.

I looked at Mary Catherine and just shook my head.

She put an arm around my shoulders and said, “She has a point. She is an adult. Maybe it would be better to give her a little space and not push too hard.”

“It’s just that I don’t like to see my children make mistakes. I’m trying to save them from going through the same things I did.”