News vans lined the barricades while uniformed men tried to keep the curious at bay. But try was all they could manage. It was New York City, after all, and word that the mayor, a senator, a district court judge, and the most popular players in the Manhattan social scene were currently being held at gunpoint at the charity event of the season was sweeping through the city like a fire. The SWAT teams shouted at the NYPD; the NYPD argued with the FBI; and the FBI demanded in the loudest voices possible, “Who let this happen?” Only a smaller-than-average teenage girl stayed quiet in the dark, right on the edge of the barricade. Occasionally, a man in a gray suit would appear, place a cup of hot chocolate in her hands, a heavier coat around her shoulders, but it was as if the girl herself didn’t realize she was freezing. She just stood looking up at the high-rise as if wondering whether or not she should try scaling the walls herself, stealing her way inside. “Are you Katarina Bishop?”
