Escape by Robert K. Tanenbaum

Author:Robert K. Tanenbaum [Tanenbaum, Robert K.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Thrillers, Suspense, Legal
ISBN: 9781416546795
Google: bwNA53wqiNYC
Amazon: 1416546790
Publisher: Pocket Star
Published: 2009-02-24T06:00:00+00:00

23

As the F train rumbled south, Malovo and Hazzan stayed near the door, ready to get off quickly. Malovo nearly lost her balance and had to reach out and grab her companion's arm as the train swung around a sudden bend in the rail line. He started to laugh—having ridden the subway system since childhood, he knew how to keep his footing the way a cowboy knows how to stay on a bucking horse. But since he'd known her, he'd never seen Ajmaani lose her composure, or her balance, and it seemed comical until he caught the look in her eye.

When the train reached the Delancey Street station, the woman they were following waited until the last moment and then stepped out as the doors were about to close. Malovo wondered if Miriam was on to them. But the younger woman never turned to look back. Instead, she stood for a moment to study the subway station signs and then headed for the exit she wanted, her two trackers following.

The sky had darkened considerably by the time they walked onto Delancey Street in the Lower East Side. The sidewalks were in transition, with some people heading home and others walking to the area's restaurants, which were doing a brisk table business as people enjoyed one of the last warm evenings of August.

It took Malovo a moment to spot the back of the lime-green hajib, but then she spotted Miriam heading into Sarah Roosevelt Park. The younger woman cut through the park onto Chrystie Street, which she followed north until she reached Rivington. Suddenly she stopped and wheeled.

This time Malovo anticipated the move by stooping to inspect the wares of a sidewalk purse vendor, who tried to sell her a knock-off Prada. Meanwhile, Hazzan pointed to a framed photograph of the World Trade Center as it had appeared at night from the art vendor seated next door. Their target just seemed to be trying to get her bearings before crossing Chrystie to Rivington, where she was set upon by two bums looking for change.

With Miriam distracted, Malovo crossed Chrystie and hid in a doorway. She was tired of this game. We should have just killed her after her idiot husband blew himself up, she thought. At the time, she'd argued that they had no idea what Jamal might have told his wife about the plan—maybe enough that someone could piece some of it together. "I'll make it look like just another violent crime for which New York is reputed," she had said to Jabbar.

Malovo suspected that the imam had his eyes on the Widow Khalifa, although he was twice her age and reminded the Russian of a lizard with his bulgy eyes and the way his pink tongue constantly wet his thin lips. He'd argued that if something happened to her, Mahmoud Juma, the old man, might raise enough of a stink that the NYPD might start asking questions. The attorney, Dean Newbury, had agreed. "So far, according to my sources, the federal agencies haven't linked her husband to the mosque," he said.

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