Read Online The Legacy by Stephen Frey - Free Book Online

instinct, and it saved his life. As the man toppled backward, Cole stumbled over him and toward the same stairway door he had slipped through several hours before to avoid the cleaning woman. The man grabbed for Coles legs, but Cole was quickly past him and into the stairwell, taking the steps even faster than he had this afternoon, leaping from landing to landing, the cassette case tucked like a football in the crook of his right arm. He heard the door slam open above him and several sharp reports as the man with the scar aimed his gun down the stairwell and began firing.
    In seconds Cole had descended several stories. He hadnt imagined a damn thing. They were after him, whoever they were. The cleaning woman, the blond man, now this man with a scar. All of them after the Dealey Tape. A bullet zipped past him, pinging the metal handrail, and Cole ducked as he jumped onto the second-floor landing. One more set of steps and he was back in the deserted lobby.
    The guard lay facedown behind the desk in a pool of blood. Cole caught only a fleeting glimpse of the prone body as he tore across the lobby. Christ, these people werent screwing around. What the hell had he stumbled into?
    Rage erupted as Cole thought of his father. Jim Egan must have known this would happen. He must have known there would be people willing to go to any lengths to obtain the Dealey Tape. Why else would he have arranged for it to be conveyed so covertly?
    As Cole burst through the outside door onto Fifth Avenue, the stairwell door slammed open behind him. The man with the scar fired from across the lobby and glass shattered. Cole ducked again and started left, but he noticed a woman coming at him down Fifth Avenue. It was the same woman who had been outside the screening room beside the trash container as the bond traders had sauntered down the hallway. But she wasnt wearing the robins egg blue uniform of the cleaning staff anymore. Now she was wearing black from head to toe.
    Cole whirled and took off in the opposite direction. He sprinted south on Fifth Avenue all the way to Thirty-eighth Street, then crossed Fifth and headed east down the shadowy cross street to Madison Avenue before turning up Madison and finally running west on Thirty-ninth for a short distance. During the day the streets would have been jammed with people, but now they were deserted. He stumbled into a recessed doorway, smashed the dim bulb above the door with the cassette case and stood perfectly still in the darkness, his back against the inside wall, gasping for breath as quietly as he could.
    For ten minutes he stood in the dark doorway, slowly regaining his breath. He was certain he had put a fair amount of distance between himself and the woman. He had played wide receiver for the University of Minnesota football team. That was seven years ago, but he was still in excellent physical condition, still very fast. There was no way she could have kept up with him.
    Finally he peered out of the doorway into the gloom. He saw nothing unusual and stepped out of the doorway, crossed the street and began jogging back toward Madison Avenue. There he would catch a cab, pick up Nicki at Emilios, anonymously call 911 to alert the police to the Gilchrist security guards plight and get to the safety of a hotel that would take cash up front without requiring a credit card imprint. That was where he and Nicki would stay tonight, not the Marriott Marquis. The crazies chasing him might be able to track them down if he used a credit card, but not if he used cash. Hotels that would accept cash without the guest having to produce a credit card werent the nicest places in the world, but hed take safety over style for this one night. He clutched the Dealey Tape tightly. It was more valuable than gold.
    The woman stood directly in front of Cole on the sidewalk, clutching a pistol. He stopped abruptly a few feet away from her, unable to believe what he was seeing. He hadnt noticed her until he was