The Woman in Red (The Stone Chronicles: Book 3)

Chapter 3

New York City. August 17th, 2015. 1000 Hours.

Emily

I released my grip on the rusty bar of the scaffolding and allowed myself to drop the rest of the way to the ground in the deserted alleyway. The woman was gone, but I ran to the skip and torched the hot chocolate cup with an old lighter just to be safe. It was my dad's; he used to smoke pipes every so often, and whenever he was stressed, I used to find him flicking it open and closed, the flames igniting and extinguishing constantly as if the fire were burning in his soul. When the bombs went off, my parent's wills were incomplete. I managed to snatch a couple of things, including the lighter, before the bank had a field day with their belongings.

The woman was good; it took me a couple of sweeps to notice her in the crowds. When I peaked behind me on the last turn, it was a glint on her face that caught my attention. Not from the sunglasses, but just lower: from the earrings. They were the same earrings that hung on the lobes of the woman standing three spots behind me in the line at Starbucks.

I realized that I had a tail, and I had to act quickly.

The scaffolding was a lucky bonus, but even then, I'm surprised it worked. I waited a few minutes after the woman left before dropping out of my hiding place and back to the ground. Dumping the phone with the cup was a good diversion, but I doubted it would last long. She was obviously a professional, not to be swayed by a message left in a notes app.

I was lucky enough to turn down an alley with a route to my destination, so I kept away from the main roads, following the more confusing back way. Any other day I would've found a phone box to cancel and somewhere to hide out for a while, but this was important, and the tail just made it even more imperative.

I reached the place before I even recognized it. The little hideaway was unmarked except for a bright green A of graffiti: not obvious, but a marking big enough to draw the attention of those looking for it. I ducked into the doorway quickly and removed my oversized sunglasses so that I could see.

Two guns were pointed at my head before I even had time to adjust to the lack of light. Two giants stood on either side of the doorway, both dressed in black from head to toe. I raised my hands to a surrender position and rolled my eyes annoyedly. The behemoth on my right growled, "Name and reason for intrusion."

"Really, mate? We do this dance every time I come here; is it really necessary?"

"Name and reason for intrusion."

I smiled, "Kevin Bacon, here to blow some shit up." The guard growled and released the safety. I glared, "Emily Stone, the girl your boss owes his damn life to."

"Bradley!" I heard over the behemoth's disgruntled breathing, "Let 'er in."

Bradley stared at me for a second and then clicked the safety, grunting as he holstered his pistol. I rolled my eyes and made my way down the dim corridor, turning into the second room after yelling, "I'll be sure to blow some special shit up just for you, old chum!"

I slammed the door shut behind me and surveyed the room. Kilogram bags of cocaine were piled up on stainless steel tables pushed against the filthy white walls. A circular table sat in the center of the room, with four muscular, Mexican men surrounding it. They were playing some card game: poker, from the looks of it.

The first man looked up from his hand and smirked, "Hey, chicka! Hope you got some money stuffed somewhere in there, or you ain't gettin' any of our specialty products over here."

I raised an eyebrow, "Not here for that shit, pal. Where's your boss?"

The man laughed hysterically, "Eh, ese! Look! Bitch gotta mouth to her!"