Page 80 of Honorable Sins

Brice and Conor board the train at Grand Ave, Brice in the car ahead of Fitz's. Rory is in the one behind it. Wearing a hoodie and baseball cap, Conor slouches onto the car with Fitz but doesn't look at my son.

Kara gives me a play-by-play from what she sees on the security camera feed from inside the train. Her facial recognition program hasn't found Karl Nyström on any of the platforms.

I change my mind about the stop I'm going to when he doesn't show his face at the first stop. After that first stop, the highest risk is at 74th St and Broadway. It's a common stop for all lines and the perfect place to get Fitz onto another train.

I'm in place on the platform a full five minutes before the train pulls in. It's crowded with tourists doing the weekend thing and I scan their faces, looking for someone that resembles Nyström.

I don't see him, but that doesn't mean he's not here and I make my way unobtrusively through the crowd, looking for anomalies.

If he's here, he's better at hiding in plain sight than his son was.

The heavy, rhythmic rumble of the approaching train vibrates the platform and I make my way toward the front. The high-pitched screech of the wheels gripping the tracks drowns out the sound of even the loudest tourist's conversation.

I catalog every person near the front of the platform. If Nyström plans to grab Fitz off the train, he needs to be one of the first on it, but he can't afford to step onto the wrong car. There won't be time to make his move if he has to travel between cars.

So, he'll be at the front but watching through the windows of the cars as the train passes him for a sight of Fitz. It's not an elegant plan, but if Fitz hadn't let us know what was going on, it would have worked.

"There's a man moving toward Fitz in his car. Gray dreadlocks half covering a face with a bushy gray beard, wearing a tunic and cotton pants." The urgency in Kara's voice says she sees something we're not hearing.

Or she's got a feeling.

My gut is screaming at me. "Move in, Conor."

"Already moving, boss," he replies.

"Why did you stop?" Kara asks. "Fitz is talking to the man," she adds. "His face isn't giving anything away."

"His hand is in his pocket under the tunic," Conor replies, his voice steady. "There's a bulge pointed toward Fitz."

A gun? Would he risk using a gun on the subway? Does he think the mere threat of it will force Fitz to go with him?

Why the gun at all when he thinks he has Fitz under his thumb with his threats toward Sadie?

"Is it Nyström?" I ask the only question anyone can answer.

"Too much of his face is covered by the dreadlocks for facial recognition with the beard," Kara says.

"He's the right height and build," Conor says. "But it's inconclusive."

Which means we don't know if it's Nyström, or someone working with him, making Nyström still a threat in play.

"Fitz is standing up," Kara's voice in my ear is nearly drowned out by the loud hiss from the compressed air braking system heralding the arrival of the train.

The crowd surges forward and I move with them.

Toward the car with Fitz and Dreadlock Guy.

The doors open.

"He has a hand on Fitz's arm and he's sticking close to him," Kara says urgently. "Conor's right behind them."

"I'm right here," I promise my beating heart. "He's not taking our son."

I make my move the second the man exits the train. Trusting my son to remember his training, I grab the elbow of the arm not holding my son and press against his ulnar nerve. Hard.

The hand crossing his body under his tunic drops and the object he was holding falls to the platform. I kick bleedin' feckin' Vanta off the platform as I execute a turning maneuver that puts me between the man and Fitz.

"I've got him," Conor says over the comms as he pulls Fitz away.