Noel's blue irises twinkled as he gazed up at the One Times Square building whose outer walls were lined with billboards and wide-screen televisions. He had gotten up early this morning just to experience what it was like to stand at the main crossroads where Broadway and Seventh Avenue meet, and covering the area between West 42nd and West 47th Street.
The area surrounding Times Square called the Theater District includes blocks from east to west between Sixth Avenue and Eighth Avenue, and between West 40th and West 53rd Street from north to south. Never empty of pedestrians, this area is the western part of the business and commerce district called Midtown Manhattan.
For almost an hour Noel had been walking around the Times Square intersection, formerly known as Longacre Square, his eyes never tired of gleaming with admiration. He had wanted to go to this place for a long time, but hadn't been able to. Until finally, after what he went through, finally Noel could go to this place.
In the middle of watching the billboard, Noel's shoulder collided with the shoulder of a teenage boy. Noel turned his head to find a surprised expression from the teenage boy who was staring at him with an expression that... I don't know.
They stared at each other for a few seconds, after which the teen said, "Sorry."
"It's okay," Noel replied, then went back to watching the wide-screen television without looking at the teenage boy who decided to leave because he was ignored.
Not long after, Noel was startled again by someone tapping him on the shoulder and calling his name.
"Noel, how did you get here?" asked Gregory. The man was still wearing the same clothes he left in last night leaving Noel alone in boredom.
"Me? I went for a walk. You know, I'm tired of being alone... eh!"
Before Noel could finish his sentence, Gregory pulled Noel from the crowd that was starting to get crowded. Following where the brown-haired man dragged him, Noel didn't protest despite the firm grip on his wrist. Gregory stopped at a narrow alley flanked by two tall buildings.
At first Gregory struggled with how to explain without worrying Noel, but Gregory had no choice. He said plainly, "Nate is wanted by the FBI and other agents."
And just as Gregory expected, Noel's face turned pale. But that expression actually looked funny to Gregory. After all, Nate was both a professional hitman and an international fugitive. With Noel's soul residing in Nate's body, it made the religious expressions that the real Nate never showed so comical.
"What... what do I do?" Nate asked frantically. Fearful of being caught and put in the most dangerous prison in the world. Even worse, being the butt of the other prisoners and...
Noel couldn't bear the thought.
Gregory let out a long sigh. "The important thing is that the police don't see you."
"I talked to the police earlier." Noel admitted.
"What?" It was Gregory's turn to panic. "What did the cop say? How did you get away?"
"I just asked the way to Time Square."
There was no response from Gregory, the British man stared at Noel from head to toe. A light blue hoodie with a cat's head, trousers folded at the hem. On closer inspection, the way he was dressed looked like a teenager. Not at all like an international hitman and fugitive.
Once again, Gregory let out a long sigh, relieved.
"Alright, let's go home."
Noel nodded. He obeyed Gregory's words even though he was not satisfied with walking through the streets of Times Square.
*
The office building was a modern, multi-story glass building, rising firmly among the other skyscrapers. A handsome man sat at a desk, dressed in a black suit, facing a translucent glass wall, enjoying the view of Moscow, a glass of eagle cabernet wine in hand.
On the mahogany desk was a clear glass name tag that read 'President Director'. The sound of the door being knocked on distracted the man, but not his gaze at the boring urban panorama.
"Come in!" he said flatly, allowing the person who had knocked on the door to rush inside.
Before long, a large man in a simple black suit entered. "Mr. Zwick we managed to find the information." He placed a folder on the table.
The man put down the wine glass he had been holding, picked up the folder on the table, and read through it sheet by sheet. His lips spread into a smile or rather a grin.
"So your hideout has been in Manhattan, huh?" He muttered to herself before his attention returned to the man. "Prepare the plane, I want to leave tonight as well."
*
A plane landed at John F. Kennedy International Airport at 9:40 pm. A handsome man in a black suit with sunglasses perched on his sharp nose, walked out of the plane with a swagger followed by several bodyguards. A few strands of his dark brown hair were blowing in the wind. The man's arrival was immediately greeted by a driver who was waiting for him in front of a black BMW car.
After opening the door for his superior, the driver got in and drove the car to the designated spot, with three other cars following behind.
*
As the snow continued to fall throughout the night, Noel Baluev was awakened from his sleep by hunger. His eyes looking out the window, Noel could hear the wind howling against the glass. He sat up and looked at the clock on the cell phone Gregory had given him. It was 22:39.
Noel left his room, heading to the kitchen in search of something to silence his rumbling stomach. However, he didn't seem to find any food in the fridge, only a few alcoholic drinks.
He couldn't help but feel like he had to go out in the middle of the night. After putting on his wool coat, Noel stepped out of the apartment. He remembered Gregory's message: Hurry home when you find something you're looking for. Remember, don't talk to anyone you meet on the way. Don't trust anyone and do your best to avoid the police.
Luckily there was a fast food restaurant not far from the apartment. The corridor was deserted, Noel thought, maybe most of the residents had already fallen asleep in their dreams.
As they reached the main corridor leading to the exit, someone called Nate's name from afar. Noel's steps stopped.
"Who is it?" he asked. The second Noel realized the style of speech was different from the real Nate, he repeated himself. "Who are you, what business do you have to see me?"
The one who called him just now was a middle-aged man in a neat black suit.
The middle-aged man politely replied, "The director of Zwick & SON. Inc would like to see you."
Noel's brow furrowed at the word 'Zwick', he remembered Gregory's message telling him to avoid anyone who might know Nate. While adjusting his tone to be as similar to Nate's as possible, Noel said, "Tell him I'm busy."
"Mr. Zwick just wants to talk to you for a minute," the man replied, sounding pleading.
Noel pretended not to hear, trying not to care, but at the bottom of his heart was pity because no one in his life had ever begged in such a pleading tone, even though Noel knew it was for Nate. About to take another step, Nate was suddenly silenced when a baritone sounded, so familiar and cold.
"It's okay, I'm already here." The owner of the voice came from the left wing of the apartment building. His footsteps were quiet, coming closer. Probably already standing behind Noel.
"Long time no see, Nate." The flat baritone entered Noel's senses.
Turning to the man behind him, Noel could hardly believe what he was seeing. His breath suddenly caught, something imprisoned in his ribs felt pumped. The man, the man who had long been Noel's nightmare in the past was back.
A pair of dark sapphire eyes stared intensely, while the owner eroded the distance, Noel could see the reflection of himself in the man's eyes. Although fifteen years had passed, the man's eyes still held the same color.
"Walther Zwick ..."