Page 60 of Bound Vows
“She’s got Maya!” I alert Vincent before pursuing them through the labyrinth. “Moving toward the back of the building.”
My bare feet slip on the concrete floor as I dodge conveyor belts and storage containers, following the blood trail Maya is leaving behind. The emergency exit is open when I reach it, revealing a loading dock that overlooks the East River and the maze of shipping piers that line this section of Queens.
“You’re too late!” Katarina’s voice carries from somewhere below the dock. “She’s mine now, and if you follow us, she dies!”
I reach the edge of the loading platform and spot them fifty yards away on a concrete pier where a speedboat is idling. Katarina has Maya pressed against her side with a gun to her head, using my wounded wife as a human shield while she backs toward the waiting vessel.
“Let her go!” I call out, my voice cracking.
Katarina reaches the boat and begins forcing Maya aboard. “She took my future, so I’m taking hers!”
Maya stumbles as Katarina shoves her into the speedboat, and I can see how much blood she’s lost from the way she struggles to maintain her balance. The shoulder wound needs medical attention, and being dragged around a warehouse and forced into a boat chase isn’t improving her condition.
“Maya!” I reach for my phone to call for backup, but realize Katarina’s people stripped me of everything while I was unconscious. “Hold on!”
“Stop being dramatic and come get me,” Maya complains. “Though maybe hurry, because I’m starting to feel a little lightheaded.”
Katarina guns the speedboat engine and races away from the pier, spray arcing behind her. The vessel’s powerful motor easily outpaces anything I could commandeer from the dock, but the direction she’s heading takes her deeper into the shipping channel rather than toward open water.
I sprint back into the warehouse and find Vincent coordinating with his men as they secure the remaining mercenaries. “I need a boat.”
“What kind of boat?”
“Fast enough to catch Katarina before she kills Maya or finds a way off the river.” I grab Vincent’s phone and begin dialing the harbor patrol number I memorized years ago. “She’s heading toward the shipping lanes with a significant head start!”
“There’s a police pursuit boat docked three piers south,” one of Vincent’s men interjects. “I saw it when we were setting up the perimeter.”
“Can you hotwire it?”
“Does the Pope shit on a gold toilet?”
We race toward the police dock while I coordinate with harbor patrol dispatch to close off the river access points. Katarina might have planned this escape route, but she’s fled into awaterway that can be sealed at both ends if we move quickly enough.
The police pursuit boat starts on the first try after Vincent’s man works his magic on the ignition system, and I take the helm while eyeing the river for signs of the speedboat. The East River stretches ahead like a dark highway lined with industrial piers and shipping facilities, offering dozens of potential hiding spots.
“There.” Vincent points toward a wake pattern visible near the Manhattan Bridge supports. “She’s moving fast but erratically.”
I push the pursuit throttle forward and feel the hull lift as we accelerate toward the bridge. The police vessel has more power than Katarina’s speedboat, but she has enough of a head start to make the chase challenging.
The gap between us closes as we approach the bridge, and I see Maya struggling with Katarina on the bow. Even wounded and weakened from blood loss, my wife is making her kidnapper’s life difficult.
“Maya’s fighting back,” Vincent observes through binoculars. “She’s interfering with Katarina’s steering.”
As if summoned by his words, Katarina’s speedboat veers hard to starboard and slams into one of the concrete pier supports with enough force to launch both women into the frigid water. The impact sounds across the water like a gunshot, and debris from the shattered bow spreads across the surface.
“Christ.” I push our boat even harder as I search the water for signs of survivors. “Do you see them?”
“Maya’s about thirty yards from the pier, but she’s struggling.” Vincent strips off his jacket while I bring us alongside the debris field. “Katarina’s floating face-down near the impact point.”
The water temperature this time of year will kill both women within minutes if we don’t get them out. Maya’s gunshot wound makes her situation even more critical, and when I squint, I see her fighting to keep her head above the surface.
I don’t waste time considering options or weighing alternatives. The choice between saving Maya or Katarina isn’t a choice.
I dive over the side of the pursuit boat and swim toward Maya, eating up the distance between us. The river water is icy against my skin, and I imagine how it affects Maya with her injuries and blood loss.
“Hold on.” I reach her just as she’s slipping beneath the surface. “I’ve got you.”
Maya’s lips are already blue from the cold, and she shivers violently as I wrap my arm around her chest and begin swimming back toward the boat. “Katarina?”
