by Thorpe, K.
with haste and intensity.
Natan sits in the therapist’s office across from Christine. Christine inquires, “What made you choose Boston?”
“A feeling,” Natan replies.
“Please continue,” Christine says.
Natan reflects.
Inside the Boston N.S.A. hub, Knight, Agent Emerson (Natan’s closest male
colleague from the academy and her few early assignments), and Agent Kalin sit around a table in an depot office. Natan stands at the head of the table with a large map of Boston on the wall in the background.
Kalin drawls, “Nothin’ like looking for a needle in a haystack if you ask me. We have no good intel to work with here.”
Natan tries to rally the troops. “Let’s keep positive and focus on the major areas.” She maneuvers to the map, pointing to an area. “We’ve reviewed much of this part of the city.” Natan enlists Emerson and Knight, “Any input, fellas?”
Knight responds, “It’s a crap shoot, like Kalin says.”
Emerson disagrees. “Not necessarily. Let’s focus on the busiest of those areas we haven’t yet covered.”
Natan appears unsettled, standing with a preoccupied, glazed looked on her face.
She rubs her forehead.
Emerson calls out, “Agent Natan.” Natan does not respond as she is lost in thought. Emerson tries again, louder this time, “Agent Natan.”
Natan is startled back to reality. “Yes. What were you saying?”
Kalin interjects, “I say we start with the transit system.”
Natan has her bearings now and retorts, “Too obvious.”
Kalin argues, “You have a better idea with only eight hours left?”
Natan maneuvers to the map again. “I have a hunch.” She points to an area on the map in the background. “Let’s start here.” The agents realize that she’s pointing to Fenway Park.
Kalin quips, “Who’d bomb the Red Sox?”
Emerson counters, “Johnson for one.”
Kalin leans in to Knight. “Fenway? What were they thinking putting her in a lead
position?”
Knight, Emerson, and Kalin stand outside Fenway stadium. F.B.I., fire, and
police, including S.W.A.T., bomb squad personnel, and canine units all gather together in the background. Natan stands off in the distance.
Knight looks at Kalin. “It’s kinda surprising that Agent Natan called out the
cavalry with so little to go on.”
Kalin responds, “Heads are gonna roll at the N.S.A. because of…her hunch.”
He taps Knight on the chest with the back of his hand. “I can’t believe she authorized all of this with no valid proof a little more than an hour before the game is supposed to start. I’m glad I’m not dealing with the pissed-off fans. It’s okay though. I’ll love to take her place as lead once this all blows up in her face…no pun intended.”
Emerson watches the betrayal. “Natan may be on to something. I worked with her before. She aces everything she does. You should be proud to be a part of her team.”
Kalin chastises, “Got a little crush, Emerson?”
Emerson snickers at Kalin.
Kalin continues, “Proud to be on her team? You mean proud to be passed over. Everyone knows I’ve been here longer. Damn quotas for women. I should have been lead.”
Natan approaches.
Emerson motions to Natan. “Why don’t you express your doubts to her in person, Kalin.”
Natan acknowledges Emerson, Knight, and Kalin, nodding her head, “Agents,” as she walks by.
Kalin is silent. Natan makes her way past the agents.
Emerson leans in to Kalin, tapping him on the chest. “Thought so. If you can’t express your concerns directly to her, then I suggest you stow it.”
Kalin shoots Emerson a dirty look.
Natan approaches an officer in the background.
“Agent Natan, are we doing a full sweep?” he asks.
“Absolutely,” she affirms.
The officer motions behind him with his hand to all of the personnel resources in front of the stadium. “I just hope all this is warranted.”
“Specified terrorist threats always warrant serious response,” Natan retorts.
The officer fumbles, “Well, uh…we’re gonna need to wait for more men if you want it done in the time frame you specified.”
Natan eyes her watch. “We can’t wait. We’ve got less than six hours before the forty-eight hour window expires. Use everyone and everything you’ve got on site now.”
The officer looks around. “Well, I’ve got three with me and two have dogs.”
“That’s a good start.” Natan shouts to everyone around her, “Ladies and gentlemen…it’s time. Let’s get in and get out as expeditiously as possible. Don’t want to hold up the game if there isn’t any reason to.”
People around her scurry to work. Natan walks over to the agents. Knight
approaches holding blueprints. Natan follows up with him, “Agent Knight, any luck on locating the specs for the ventilation system?”
Knight waves the blueprints in front of her. “Right here…hot off the presses. Why the ventilation system and not maintenance or electrical areas?” he asks.
Natan explains, “The Feds and city P.D. will sweep those areas. My gut says ventilation, so that’s where we’re starting.”
Kalin retorts, “You’ve got a pretty active gut today. You sure it’s not just indigestion?”
Natan banters, “You should trust your instincts a little more, Kalin.” She looks to Emerson for cohesion. “Emerson, you and Kalin search the lower levels. Let’s do this.” Natan pulls Kalin aside, “You can voice your concerns to Marsh later. But beginning now, I don’t want to hear another word from you unless it’s yes, you got that Agent Kalin?”
Not waiting for a reply Natan walks away leaving a stunned Kalin behind. Natan catches up with Knight and the two head into the stadium.
A pissed Kalin fumes. Just follow those instincts right out of your job, lady.
Chapter Nineteen
Inside the vast stadium, Natan and Knight walk down a long circular hallway.
“Did I ever tell you that I’m not a big baseball fan?” Knight inquires.
“Who doesn’t love baseball??” Natan replies.
“There’s baseball people and then there’s football people. I’m definitely a football man myself,” he says.
“Wanna focus there, Mr. Football?” Natan says. “Which way is the main ventilation system?”
“You must be a baseball woman,” Knight affirms. Natan gives Knight a look encouraging him to focus. “Right,” Knight continues as he looks at the blueprints and then his surroundings. He points to his right. “It’s down this way.” Natan follows Knight down a long hallway. Knight continues, “It should be coming up.”
Outside among the stadium seats, several police officers and canines run through the stadium seating, allowing the dogs to sniff for explosives.
Inside the stadium, Natan and Knight continue searching as they arrive at a door labeled “Ventilation Access.” Knight tests the knob. The door is locked. The agents draw their weapons as Natan gives a yes nod to Knight. Knight kicks in the door and they enter.
Inside the ventilation room, Natan and Knight meander through large segments of air duct components and loud mechanical air flow mechanisms. Knight continues as Natan stops, lowering her weapon. She looks around again, then holsters the gun. An object in the corner catches her eye. Natan yells, “Agent Knight!”
“Yeah?” he calls.
“I think I found something. Get the others on the radio, will ya?”
Knight holsters his weapon and grabs his radio, pushing the button. “Agents
Knight and Natan need backup in the ventilation room on level three of the complex.”
A filtered Emerson’s voice responds, “Copy that. We’re on the way.”
Natan stands looking up at a corner of the ventilation segment. She se
es a
chemical bomb counting down. It’s at 62:22, as the seconds tick. Natan motions for Agent Knight. He walks up to Natan. “What do ya got? Did you find something?” he asks.
Natan motions to the bomb. Knight replies, “Oh damn.”
Natan jokes, “Guess the people who left this must not be baseball fans either.”
Several F.B.I., N.S.A., police and fire officials gather in and around the room. The bomb squad commander enters. “Everyone out,” he says. “Clear the interior and exterior perimeters. Take the exterior perimeter back as far as you can get it.”
Natan reinforces the order, “You heard the man. Let’s move.”
Knight and others head out. The Commander stays behind, dropping his
equipment on the floor below the bomb.
The commander addresses Natan, “That means you too, Agent.”
Natan asserts herself, “I’m required to remain on site.”
“Bomb squad personnel only,” he reiterates.
Natan looks at the bomb. It reads 55:03, as the seconds tick. “Do you really
wanna spend time arguing with me?” she asks.
“Just stay out of my way.”
Natan tosses her hand up, “I’m out.”
Natan stands clear, eyeballing the perimeter and the outer casing of the bomb.
The commander says, “This definitely contains a dispersing agent…probably chemical. Whatever it is, if it blows, the wind will carry it several miles.”
“Let’s make sure that doesn’t happen, all right?”
“I’m working on it,” he says, frustrated.
Outside Fenway, Agent Knight is on the phone, walking away from the stadium perimeter as people in the area continue evacuating. A crowd of fans builds on the far side of the parking lot behind a barricade. Knight briefs Marsh, “Sir, we’ve located the target.”
Marsh’s filtered voice reverberates loudly through the phone, “Where?”
Knight informs the Chief, “We’ve located a bomb in the ventilation system at Fenway Park.”
Marsh continues, “Jesus. How’d you find that?”
“Agent Natan had a hunch, Sir.”
“Well, that’s a hell of a hunch, Agent Knight.”
“Yes, Sir…it is.”
“What’s the status?” Marsh asks.
“The bomb squad is on it as we speak,” Knight replies.
“Why didn’t Agent Natan call this in personally?”
Knight reveals, “Agent Natan stayed behind to assist, Sir.”
“How much time?” Marsh asks with concern.
“Less than an hour, Sir. City P.D. is holding the perimeter to prevent fans from entering the stadium,” Knight replies.
Marsh continues, “I’ll contact Baxter. I’m sure he’ll want to alert the President.”
“I’ll update you shortly, Sir.”
“I’m on my way, Agent Knight. Make sure Natan gets out of there.”
Knight says, “I’ll do my best, Sir, but the bomb squad commander couldn’t even get her to leave…not sure I’ll have much better luck.”
“Man the hatches, Agent Knight, until I get there.” Marsh hangs up and Knight hears dial tone.
Inside the ventilation room, sweat streams from the commander’s forehead as he
wipes his brow. Natan’s face also glistens as the stress emanates from each of them. The bomb reads 45:38, as the seconds tick. Natan inquires, “Should I start getting a little concerned here?”
The commander fiddles with the wiring, “I almost got it.”
“When you say almost, how long are we talking?” Natan asks as she holds her breath.
The commander expresses his annoyance, “Almost as in stop talking to me so I can do my job.”
“I’m just wondering if we’re talking minutes or longer. I’m not a very fast runner is all…” her voice trails off. The bomb continues ticking, 43:57. The commander continues fiddling. Assessing the situation, Natan starts to back up.
The Commander cuts a red cord and the bomb reads 00:00. “Ye of little faith,” he says, relieved. Natan joins him in her own sigh of relief, joking, “Uhh. I was wondering if I was gonna have to practice my sprinting.”
“All that chit-chat must have slowed me down,” the commander replies.
“Didn’t you find my presence encouraging?” Natan quips.
“Not especially,” he replies.
“Okay, okay, duly noted,” she says. Natan starts to walk away.
The commander softens, relinquishing his thanks. “Agent Natan, it’s a damn good thing you found this when you did.”
“We were lucky,” she replies.
“Well, thank God for luck then,” the commander says. Natan smiles to herself.
A jubilant Natan and the commander emerge from the stadium to an applauding crowd of law enforcement personnel. Natan begins clapping for the commander also. She addresses everyone, “Thank goodness for the bomb squad!”
The commander replies, “Thank God for the N.S.A.”
Knight, Emerson, and Kalin stand in the background watching events unfold.
Knight addresses the fellas, “Still think there’ll be a game?”
Emerson motions to fans in the background. “Twenty bucks says they won’t be
able to hold those Sox fans back more than fifteen minutes.” Knight and Kalin look at one another. Emerson continues, “What? No takers?”
Knight shakes his head at Emerson, “Not me.” Kalin ignores the wager altogether.
Unnoticed in the distance, huddled in the crowd of fans, Josh and his father stand on the street behind a barricade waiting to be let in to see the game. A police officer stands in front of them and the barricade holding the crowd back.
Emerson taunts Kalin, “Looks like you’ll be waiting for that lead position a hell of a lot longer huh, buddy?” Emerson pats Kalin on the back as he walks toward Natan.
Knight admits, “I guess she is a pro.”
Kalin is dazed. Emerson congratulates Natan in the background. Kalin pulls
Knight aside.
Kalin replies, “How could she have known all of the details? Boston,
Fenway Park, the ventilation system.” He eyes Natan angrily, “It doesn’t make sense.”
Knight retorts, “Instincts, my man.” Knight pats him on the shoulder.
“Just enjoy the fact that our team found it. We’re heroes, man.” Knight walks away, leaving Kalin standing alone brooding to himself. Instincts my ass. Something isn’t right.
In the therapist’s office Natan sits across from Christine, who sits with her hands folded in her lap, listening intently to the end of Natan’s recollection as if she is watching a play being reenacted. Christine comments, “You know I heard rumors that a terrorist plot had been averted on the east coast. I had no idea they were really true.”
“That’s the way the government wants to keep it,” Natan replies.
Christine continues, “You must feel so fulfilled to know that you prevented such a significant event. You know that Fenway always hosts a sell-out crowd.”
“I know,” Natan says. “It was all overwhelming actually. The President quietly commended our team. That was definitely a memory to keep.”
“I bet.” Christine picks up her pen, tapping it on the notepad. “You know there has to be a connection between this event and your dreams. The time line just makes sense.”
“You think so?” Natan asks.
“I do,” Christine replies. “Tell me more about these hunches of yours.”
“What’s to tell? Don’t most people who work in law enforcement have hunches?” Natan asserts.
“Perhaps.” Christine leans in. “Describe the sensation or feeling you get when you experience one of these hunches.”
Natan thinks for a moment before she replies, “It starts in the pit of my stomach…then resonates throughout me. Does that make sense?”
“I think so.”
Natan shrugs her shoulders. “I
don’t know…I just knew somehow.”
Agent Natan walks out of Christine’s office. A shadowed woman watches Natan from a car. Agent Natan gets to her car and clicks the auto-unlock on her key chain. She gets into the vehicle. The light catches Amanda as she watches in the shadows, scribbling Natan’s license plate number down on a pad. Natan is oblivious.
Chapter Twenty
At the University of Maryland, Josh sits in his office at his desk reviewing more Code papers. The phone rings as he jerks with surprise, picking up the phone. “Professor Sails here.”
In his congressional office, Kent stands looking out a window as he speaks on his office phone. “Josh. We need to talk.”
Josh puts his pages down on his desk to give Kent his full attention. “Congressman. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Kent’s voice is terse. “When you said you would be showing up at my door with a unicorn, I never thought it would be N.S.A. and C.I.A. agents. Was your surprise a dozen agents searching my office and questioning me about Mexican artifacts? Or was the surprise something about you perhaps smuggling said artifacts into the country?” Josh is silent. “What have you gotten me into, Josh? What the hell is going on?”
Josh stammers, “Kent, this may not be the best time to discuss this.”
Kent continues, “Yeah, well, seeing that I helped you get back into the country and am now being investigated, when the hell do you think would be a good time?”
“Rest assured I’m not smuggling anything,” Josh promises.
“How am I supposed to know what’s going on, Josh? Remember your history?”
“That was a long time ago, Kent.”
Kent cannot contain his anger. “Okay, let’s focus on the present then. First you tell me to meet with you to discuss this amazing discovery…that you only vaguely elude to. Then you get arrested for what I thought was trespassing, ask for my help…which I give…and the next thing I know, my position on the subcommittee, not to mention my seat in Congress, may now be in jeopardy because of my dealings with you.”
“Kent, you know me,” Josh replies. “This is all just a big misunderstanding. I truly am sorry that you’ve been put through this. I can’t go into detail now, but I promise you I’ll make things right.”
