The crowd on the street around me seemed to be growing thicker by the moment. I kept getting bumped because some of them were already wildly drunk. When I came up to the front steps of the historic Driskill Hotel, I paused and checked my watch. I wanted to knock on Greta’s hotel room door at exactly eight. I didn’t want to do anything that might mess up this opportunity. She had clearly been skittish up to this point. I didn’t want her running again. For reasons I still had not yet confirmed, she had a skill set to easily evade my pursuit. I again thought about the old photo of her standing inside the CIA building. Was Greta a CIA agent? Hopefully, I was about to find out.
But before I could take another step forward, I felt something hard suddenly push up against my back, followed by the voice of someone in my ear who now stood uncomfortably close behind me.
“Stay very still, Alex, or I will shoot you on the sidewalk.”
I stiffened, felt a surge of panic race up my spine. The man had a slight Mexican accent. Antonio Perez? The CNI agent? I didn’t move. I believed he would shoot me dead right there. Could no one else see the gun? We were surrounded by people on all sides of the sidewalk and street. But no one was paying attention.
“What do you want?” I asked over my shoulder.
“We’ll get to that. Walk slowly forward, and turn right at this next crosswalk.”
I took a few steps forward, gave a quick glance back. It was indeed Perez. My mind started churning. Had Greta set me up? Was she somehow involved with Perez and Joe’s abduction? Or was the text telling me to meet at the hotel tonight a fake? Had Perez really sent it? I had no way of knowing at this point. But I certainly didn’t like the idea of letting this man take me somewhere outside of this crowded party strip. I had to do something, and quick. I turned right, as instructed. Then I spotted two police officers across the street. I wondered if I could somehow grab their attention. As if sensing my hesitation, I felt the gun jab me even harder from behind.
“Keep moving, Alex. Don’t be stupid.”
“Like Ethan Tucker.”
“That was unfortunate. But yes, he was stupid.”
“Does the CNI know what you’re doing?”
“Stop talking and just walk.”
The crowd was beginning to thin out as we made our way up the sidewalk away from Sixth Street. I was growing more concerned. If I was going to make a move to get away from this guy, I had to do it soon. Once we were all by ourselves, I would have no chance of escaping. I felt my pulse racing. Ahead of us, I noticed a group of five college-age girls, most of whom were already stumbling around, coming down the sidewalk toward us. One girl wearing a black leather jacket, jeans, and heels looked like she was going to be sick and maybe vomit right there on the sidewalk a few feet in front of me. It was the best opening I would probably get right now. Instead of passing by the group without any acknowledgment, I paused and turned to her.
“Hey, you okay?” I asked.
She was now bent all the way over.
“Oh, Jill, don’t do it here,” one of the other girls said to her.
But it looked like there might not be any stopping her. Jill was already gagging. I felt the gun jab me in the back again. I didn’t move right away. Then Jill vomited and spewed everywhere.
Perez jerked back to avoid the spillage. When he did, I took off sprinting up the sidewalk away from him. I ducked into an alley directly behind the bars on Sixth Street, just in case Perez started shooting. My legs were racing forward, as fast as I’d run in a long time, in and around dirty dumpsters, piles of boxes and trash. I spotted several back doors to bars and wondered if I should dart inside one of them. Would the doors be unlocked? Would it be foolish to delay and check? I chose to keep on running, wanting to create as much distance as possible.
A second later, I realized I should’ve chosen a bar door. Bullets started flying. One hit a metal dumpster only a few feet in front of me. I’m not sure where the other went. But I didn’t feel anything, so I didn’t think I’d been shot. The gunshots were loud but somewhat muffled, as if Perez had some kind of silencer. Instead of continuing my sprint down the alley and being exposed, I tucked in behind the next dumpster I could find. I couldn’t outrun bullets.
How far back was Perez?
I was breathing so damn hard. I had to find another way out of here. A door opened a few feet up ahead of me to my right. Someone stepped out from one of the bars and began tossing trash bags out the back. I took off for the open door. When I got there, I shoved the guy to the side, mainly to protect him in case a bullet was headed our way. Then I burst through the open door into a back hallway leading to a small kitchen crowded with cooks and waitstaff. I didn’t slow down. I had to assume that Perez would follow me into the bar. Weaving in and around bar staff, I tried not to knock over anyone else. But I got a lot of weird stares and “What the hells” from them.