Page 138 of Witness 8

Checked my watch.

11.58 a.m.

The elevator doors opened in the lobby and I ran for the exit. It was a wall of reinforced glass. Two large panes on either side of the double exit doors.

A few people were filing out of the building ahead of me.

The sun was coming through the glass, bathing the faded tile lobby in golden light. I stood in that light for a moment. Breathing hard, but not from the run. From the adrenalin.

My fist clenched. Jaw tight.

I walked up to the solid pane of glass and stood in front of it. Then took the gum out of my mouth, set it in the middle of the page and slammed it onto the glass.

The page stuck.

I turned on my heel and walked away, toward the coffee shop on the ground floor.

I needed coffee. It would be another long day.

Tonight, I had to meet Buchanan. Had to straighten things out with New York’s Finest.

Either I would walk away tonight, or a few days later a paramedic would carry me out in a body bag.

Nothing I could do about it.

I had to end this. One way or another.

67

Angel

Angel held the crosshairs on Flynn. His finger on the trigger, body perfectly still.

But Flynn wasn’t taking any chances.

He had merged into a tight crowd as soon as he set foot out of the Aztek, and stayed in that crowd until he got inside the court building.

Frustrating, but there would be another chance. A better one.

When Flynn left the court building, he would be walking toward the line of fire. That’s optimal shooting conditions. May as well be standing still, holding a target.

Angel waited.

He was good at waiting.

The hours ticked by and, on the hour, the clock tower bell rang. He was glad he’d brought the ear defenders. Without them his hearing would have suffered. If Flynn so happened to leave the court building on the hour, the chimes from the bell could be enough to put Angel off his shot.

Not with this head gear.

He drank water. Kept watch.

Waited.

His scope zeroed on the exit doors. A glass wall, with two doors in the center. He would need to wait until Flynn was out in the open.

Almost noon.

And there he was. Walking toward the exit.