Try Begging - Chapter 134.2
“If people rush out asking where the pregnant woman went, point to…”
She gestured towards a mail train across the platform.
“Say I ran onto that train.”
“Yes, leave it to me.”
The man grinned as he pocketed the money and headed towards the platform, leaving his assigned luggage behind. Grace immediately walked down the corridor to the left.
Past the restroom and three compartments, she would be directly opposite where she had been seated before.
‘Perfect.’
Everything was going according to plan.
Mrs. Baker, who had been monitoring her target’s movement, opened her compartment door just in time for their eyes to meet across two windows. In that moment, Grace feigned shock, clutching her belly and hurriedly moving forward.
Her act of playing dumb seemed to have worked.
Mrs. Baker stepped into the trap without suspicion.
Hidden at the end of the corridor, she peeked out and saw the woman knocking on the door of the next compartment, shouting something. Simultaneously, four young men burst out and ran towards the end of the train.
As expected. He wouldn’t have assigned just one person to her.
Without delay, Grace moved to the adjacent carriage. Halfway down, the door she had passed swung open, and the woman shouted.
“Hey! Stop there!”
That woman didn’t know her name? Usually, pursuers call out the name. Grace didn’t stop and continued to the end of the carriage. No matter how narrow the corridor, they were running while she only walked fast, so they caught up quickly.
Still, they didn’t know it was all part of her plan.
As they reached the middle of the carriage, Grace turned around and raised her hands as if to surrender, though the object in her hand was far from a symbol of surrender. The pursuers hesitated at the sight of the gun in her right hand.
Grace shook the bullets in her other hand as if to show them off.
“It’s not empty anymore.”
Firing a warning shot to the ceiling wasn’t an option, as it meant stopping all train operations.
“Get down, now!”
Whether Winston sent them or not, their weakness was the same. Grace couldn’t be allowed to die.
Just like she had done in the annex, she pointed the gun under her chin and made the pursuers exchange glances before they obediently lay down in the corridor. Still holding the gun to her neck, she opened the side door and stepped out.
A quick glance at the platform clock showed thirty-three minutes past the hour.
Grace pretended to flee towards the platform only to turn around and enter the next carriage’s door. Squatting down and listening, she heard the sounds of footsteps rushing towards the platform.
“Where did she go? Which way?”
Amidst the panicked shouting, someone yelled in a direction away from her, prompting Grace to duck and move towards the opposite door. As the whistle signaling the departure sounded, she returned to the opposite train just like when she had first jumped across.
“Ha… that was close.”
As the train started to move, she didn’t head straight to her compartment but hid in the restroom instead.
“Ah, I’m hungry.”
She pressed her rumbling stomach, listening to the corridor beyond the locked door. The scenery outside the small window shifted from gray to blue, indicating no one was searching for her anymore in the corridor. This meant no pursuers had boarded the train again.
Finally, Grace returned to an empty compartment.
“To be an unwelcome guest on Christmas when the whole family gathers, that’s not right.”
She took a bottle of soda from the bag, opened it, and stretched out on the seat. Enjoying the beautiful view of the Chesterfield River and her newfound freedom, she took a swig of the cool soda and suddenly burst into laughter.
It was a thrilling sensation, like successfully completing a mission after a long time. She thought her body and mind had become dull from being confined without any stimulation.
“Wow, turns out I am still useful.”
However, the refreshing laughter soon faded.
I’m still useful, after all…
In an office overlooking the Chesterfield central station platform, engulfed in darkness and silence, it was as busy as the train station during daylight. At this place, the makeshift operational headquarters was bustling with about a dozen soldiers who were constantly on their phones, chattering away.
They all repeated the same phrases, like parrots.
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