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As Bryant Park came into view, Alicia asked, “Was there a specific spot you’re to be taken?”

“No,” Jack said.

“He didn’t say.”

“Parking in this area is near impossible,” Stone said.

“I suggest just circling the park until he calls.”

They were just starting a second circuit when the throwaway rang.

Jack answered it on speaker.

“How you holding up, Johnny?” the digital voice asked.

“Getting tired yet?”

“Just tell me where you want me to go next,” Jack said.

The caller laughed.

“Here’s where the real fun begins. You have three minutes to get to Forty-First and Sixth Ave. When you arrive, get out of the car and bring the briefcase with you.”

The line went dead.

“Alicia?” Stone said.

“I heard, sir. It’ll be cutting it tight, but I’ll do my best.”

She made several quick lane changes, turned onto Sixth Avenue, and was in the process of stopping at the curb just shy of the intersection with Forty-First Street when the phone began to ring again.

Jack hopped out of the car, while Stone took a moment to put in one ear pod and call Dino.

“What’s going on?” Dino asked.

“Hold on. I’ll know in a second.” To Alicia, Stone said, “Find somewhere nearby to wait, and I’ll call if we need you.”

By the time he jumped out and circled around to the sidewalk, Jack was lowering the phone.

“New instructions?”

“We’re to walk west on Forty-First Street, and he’ll call again in two minutes.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s all he said.”

“Dino, you get that?” Stone asked.

“I’m betting he’s sending you to Times Square,” Dino said.

“Wants to take advantage of the crowds.”

“That’s what I was thinking, too.”

“We’ve got a lot of uniforms in the area. I can rally them as soon as needed. Wait a sec.” Dino talked with someone in the sedan.

“Everyone who’s not driving is getting out to follow you, me included. I’ll stay on the line, too, so we have direct contact.”

“Thanks, Dino.”

The light changed, and Stone and Jack crossed to the other side of Sixth Avenue, then started down Forty-First Street.

The throwaway rang again.

Jack answered, listened to the new instructions, then lowered the phone and pointed at a walkway on the north side of the street that went between two skyscrapers.

“We’re to go to Forty-Second Street through there, then continue west.”

Gennaro told Toomey to wait for him at the bottom of the stairs at the Columbus Circle subway entrance, then found a relatively deserted spot at street level.

He plugged his ear pod in, then called Rosa on his personal cell.

“The courier is almost there,” he said, then described Coulter.

“What does ‘almost’ mean?”

“Huh?”

“The way you use it, it could be ten minutes or it could be an hour.”

“We’re talking minutes, okay? A couple at most. So quit messing around.”

“Yes, sir,” she sassed.

Ignoring the attitude, he said, “I’m putting you on mute but stay on the phone.”

He silenced the line, then called Fratelli on the throwaway.

“Yes?” Fratelli answered.

“Where are you?” Gennaro asked.

“At the corner of Forty-Second and Broadway.”

“Cross the street, then enter the subway station. You have a MetroCard?”

“I don’t,” Fratelli said.

“Then buy one and go down the escalator. I’ll give you two minutes.”

He hung up.

As soon as Toomey had descended the stairs, he called Miguel.

“We’re at the Columbus Circle subway station,” he reported.

“Well, I am. Gennaro’s still up on the street. I think he didn’t want me around while he made some calls.”

“He’s not ditching you, is he?” Miguel asked.

“Nah. If he didn’t want me here, he’d just tell me to go home. I get the sense the exchange is either going to happen here, or we’ll take a train to where it will.”

“Have you seen Rosa?” Miguel asked

“No. Is she here in the station?”

“We don’t know where she is.”

“The new guy lost her?”

“Don’t get me started. Suffice it to say, he’ll be looking for new employment once he recovers from his exit interview. In the meantime, keep an eye out for her.”

“Will do.”

“And keep me posted.”

Two stops south of Columbus Circle inside the Broadway-Forty-Second Street station, Rosa held her phone to her ear while she kept an eye on the down escalator.

“You see him yet?” her brother asked.

“Not yet.”

“What the hell is taking him so long? I told him two minutes. It’s been more than three.”

Rosa could think of several logical reasons Fratelli might have been held up, like a line to get a MetroCard, but she wasn’t going to point any of them out.

It was more enjoyable to let her brother panic.

“Dammit,” he muttered.

Rosa started to sneer at his discomfort, then her eyes widened.

She knew what Jack Coulter looked like.

She’d looked him up online after hearing her brother telling Dominic and Manny that he was Fratelli.

Right now, Fratelli was nearing the bottom of the escalator, a briefcase in hand.

She was vaguely aware of her brother saying something, but all her attention was on Fratelli as he stepped off the escalator, then moved out of the flow of traffic and stopped near the wall.

That’s when she noticed that the man who’d been behind him also did the same.

“Rosa?” her brother all but yelled.

“Are you still there?”

“He’s here,” she said.

“And there’s a man with him.”

“Describe him.”

“About the same height, distinguished looking, maybe twenty or twenty-five years younger.”

“That’s got to be Barrington. He’s just a lawyer, so he won’t be a problem. How’s the crowd? Enough to work with?”

She glanced around.

People were hurrying this way and that, some in groups, some alone, giving the space its normal sense of controlled chaos.

“I think so.”

“Then let’s do this.”

Stone and Jack’s delay at entering the station proper had nothing to do with lines for the MetroCards, and everything to do with allowing Watkins and the other three Strategic Services team members to go down before them.

When the two men finally reached the bottom of the escalator, they stepped out of the way of other subway users to await the next call, which came half a minute later.

“Now what?” Jack answered.

He listened for a moment and glanced at Stone.

“I told you he was with me…You obviously have eyes on me, so you know I have the briefcase. If you want it, he stays.” He continued listening for several more seconds before lowering the phone.

“I’m guessing he’s unhappy about my presence,” Stone said.

“Very astute. But he’s not willing to risk me walking away, so you get to stay.”

“Lucky me. What are we supposed to do now?”

“We walk toward the Seventh Avenue exit. At some point, I’ll be approached.”

“By whom?”

“That, he didn’t say.”

“Well, this should be fun.”

“He didn’t say that, either.”