by Alex Lukeman
"That's true, you missed it. Lucas...may I call you Lucas?"
"Please."
"Lucas, our relations with Langley have been lousy. Worse. The President is stressing cooperation but we both know that's not what's behind this. You want us to work with you, you need to fill us in."
Right to the point, no bullshit or polite beating around the bush. Monroe knew the previous director was recovering from being shot in the head. He hadn't failed to notice that Stephanie carried a Glock. Even in her own office behind massive security. Hell, security here was as good or better than Langley's. All of these people were hands on, like he was. He wanted to like them. He decided to opt for the truth, at least most of it.
"You understand this is off the record. My opinion only. The way I read the situation."
Stephanie nodded, once. "Off the record."
"The DCI has made some bad decisions. He's under a lot of pressure. You've made us look bad. I mean, how the hell does a small group like this do what you've done? We're the CIA, for Christ's sake, and you make us look like amateurs. I think Lodge's days are numbered."
Monroe was about to burn a bridge. "Hood wants his job. He's brought me along the whole way. I owe him. He's getting old and if he's going any further, it has to be soon. So, he tells me to come over here and find out how you do things. That's why I'm here."
"To help Hood become the next DCI." She paused. "And keep your career track moving along."
Monroe said nothing. He didn't have to.
"What do you think, Nick?" Stephanie twisted a bracelet on her arm.
"I'd rather see Hood running Langley than Lodge. If having Lucas here helps that happen, I'm all for it."
"Selena?"
"Hood got us in and out of Pakistan. He kept his word. Let's give it a chance."
"Ronnie?"
Ronnie grunted assent.
"Lamont?"
"I owe you guys one for Khartoum. So I'm good with it."
"That's your first lesson, Lucas."
"What do you mean?"
Stephanie waved her hand around the room. "Teamwork. Agreement. We're all on the same page and we work at it. We get through the bullshit. If anyone was against you being here, you'd be gone. That's how we operate. You can tell that to your boss."
"All for one and one for all?"
"That's right."
"When Hood sent me over here I didn't think I was going to end up with the three musketeers."
They all started laughing. "Ow, that hurts," Selena said.
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
"What have we got?" Nick massaged his shoulder.
A storm was coming in from the Midwest. By dark there'd be snow on the ground and the Beltway would be a skating rink for all the road warriors who thought four wheel drive made them invulnerable. Carter wasn't looking forward to the drive back into the city.
"Langley's got nothing." Monroe looked grim. "There's nothing to show where the bomb went after they took it from Bausari."
"We can eliminate anything that doesn't mean a big population kill and a lot of damage," Steph said.
"That's nice. Still leaves the whole country. Every major city and then some."
"The solar eclipse is tomorrow." Selena tried to get comfortable on the couch. Stephanie had filled Monroe in on their thinking. "If we're right about this, that's not much time."
"What about the Bureau?" Carter asked Stephanie. "They have anything?"
"Nada. No one saw or heard anything where Bausari was killed."
"What makes something worth a nuke?" Nick pulled on his ear. "We can't be everywhere. Hell, the guy could choose Kansas City because he doesn't like steak. Or Philly, because of it's symbolic significance. Or Boston, or New York."
"Or right here in Washington," Monroe said. "Lots of symbols. The seat of power. The White House."
"He could put that bomb in the trunk of a car and no one would ever know it. How do you check every possible target and access to it?"
"You can't." Selena looked at Nick. "Time to play assumptions again."
"Assumptions?" Monroe said.
Carter explained. "We found the base in Mali because Selena translated some old documents and found clues that led us there. We assumed the truck with Bausari was in the area and we knew AQIM had hideouts up there. Then we got lucky, if you call being shot down lucky."
"Go on."
"We picked up the truck heading west and lost it again. We assumed they were making for the coast. We went to Mauritania and made more assumptions. It was logical, a process of elimination. We decided to go north. Then we got lucky again. Steph picked up their heat signatures. But Bausari was gone when we got there."
"And?"
"Then Hoover's boys happened on Hemmings and the mosque. You know about that. More luck." Monroe nodded.
"Hemmings overheard Bausari's guys talk about going north. That figured, because Bausari is dying. No way he'd go across country. He's running out of time. We made more assumptions, ended up with Seattle and passed it on. Then somebody cut Bausari short, right out of the picture."
Selena thought of the photo of three headless terrorists. She stared at Nick. "I don't believe you said that."
Nick shrugged.
"So all of this has been guesswork?" Monroe was incredulous.
"Not guesswork." Selena turned to face Monroe. "Deductive reasoning. Like Sherlock Holmes." She glanced over at Stephanie. "Same with Pakistan. My research in Mali pointed us toward the assassin base. That gave us more assumptions. Langley cooperated and found the spot. We went in. But no bomb."
Stephanie said, "The intel we got blows a lot of their networks, but doesn't mention the bomb. It does mention their Imam."
This woman is interesting, Monroe thought. A lot going on there. No ring. She's single. He looked at her. She met his look and something passed between them. Some primal recognition. Monroe brought his mind back to the subject.
"What Imam?"
"His name is Hassan-i-Sabbah. He took the name of the founder of the assassins. He believes he has a personal connection with the Mahdi."
"So did Bausari."
"Sabbah is different. He has visions, had them for years. His followers think he's got a direct line to God. So does he. We think he has hallucinations. Maybe a brain tumor, if we're lucky."
Monroe looked down at his shoe. As if he'd just stepped in something. "A fanatic with a nuclear weapon who thinks God is talking to him."
"That's right." The room was silent for a beat.
"So," Selena said, "let's assume. Let's look at targets, narrow it down. What do you attack to create the most confusion? Sabbah wants to initiate the end of days, Muslim style. How do you do that?"
"You start a war," Nick said.
"That's the easy part. The bomb goes off, the shooting starts. But we just had a war and Rice managed to squash it before it went nuclear. War isn't enough, unless it's world wide."
"That is a scary thought," Ronnie fingered his deerskin pouch.
Lamont arched his back and tried to get the cast comfortable. "If what we just saw in the Middle East isn't enough, what could be worse? Enough to guarantee World War Three with nukes raining out of the sky?"
"Okay." Carter looked at the others. "Assumption number one is that Sabbah wants to start a war."
There were nods all around.
"Assumption number two is that he has to make certain it escalates. How do you do that?"
Selena took a breath. Winced from the pain of her ribs. "Eliminate the people who could stop it. Like the President."
"The assassins were killing people," Lucas said. "It didn't start a war."
"They didn't try for the President. Or any of the world leaders. They were trying to point us toward Iran and wreck the peace process in Afghanistan. They succeeded in that, almost."
Carter tapped fingers on his knee. "Then assumption number three is the bomb, or some kind of coordinated attack, has to take out all the big guys at once. The President an
d the others. That wouldn't be easy."
"Yes it would." Everyone looked at Stephanie. Her face was white.
"There's an emergency meeting of the Security Council tomorrow at the UN. China and Russia are upset about the new sanctions on Iran. Every international leader of importance will be there, including the President. If Sabbah set that bomb off in New York, he'd get them all."
"Security will be impenetrable," Monroe said. "This isn't a movie. You can't wheel a bomb in on a serving cart under a white linen tablecloth and a couple of bowls of Caesar salad. No one will be able to get close to the UN "
Steph sighed. "How close do you have to be with an atom bomb?"
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
"Everything is ready?"
Hassan-i-Sabbah looked out through the window. A light snow flurry softened the impressive view.
"Yes, Teacher. We obtained the right size batteries at a Honda motorbike store. Those machines...such costly toys, when their own people starve in the streets. It is unjust."
"That is why we are here, Jamal. To restore justice. As the Prophet taught, Praise be upon Him."
Jamal bowed. "He guides our way."
"The fida'i are ready?"
"Yes, Teacher. Perhaps they will not be needed."
"Perhaps. Is there word from Pakistan?"
"No, Teacher. We have sent someone."
Sabbah considered. It was odd that he'd had no communication from his disciples. Perhaps there had been a failure in the equipment.
He dismissed the thought. So far everything was going well. The deaths of the British Foreign Secretary and the American politician had misled the capitols of the West and pointed them toward Tehran. The various security agencies competed with one another. The war raged with new fury in Afghanistan. Yes, things were going well.
"The Security Council members have arrived?"
"Yes. As we expected, security measures are very strict. It will not affect us."
"No changes in the schedule?"
"No."
"Foolish. They believe themselves invulnerable." He turned from the window.
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
Morning. The Virginia countryside was covered by a foot of fresh snow. Stephanie set the phone down. She looked unhappy.
"The President will not change his schedule. We have no hard evidence to back up our assessment. Lucas, what's Langley's reaction?"
"Hood thinks you're right. Lodge thinks you're meddling."
"What about the Bureau, Steph?" Nick asked.
"Everyone is convinced security is faultless and we're crying wolf. We can't tell them there's a nuke floating around. It would leak and cause wide spread panic. Homeland Security, the Bureau, the NYPD, everyone with domestic authority is looking for Sabbah. They think it's enough."
She turned to Monroe. "Lucas, you don't have a domestic mandate but we can do what we like. Consider yourself deputized for the duration."
"Do I get a tin star?"
Lamont laughed. "Yeah, man, you're Gary Cooper."
"Cooper?"
"The western, High Noon. Remember? There's this old sheriff telling Cooper he's nuts for doing the right thing. He says, 'For what? For a tin star.' "
"Sabbah won't be taking carriage rides in Central Park," Nick said. "He's holed up somewhere with that nuke."
"How do we find him? You got any assumptions?" Monroe asked.
"How about a Ouija Board?"
"Yeah. Funny."
Nick tugged on his ear. "He has to get close enough so the blast takes out the UN. How close is that?"
"Six kilotons?" Monroe rubbed his chin. "Anything within a quarter to a half mile of ground zero is toast. The shock wave and radiation will go a lot farther. Any old buildings will fall. All the glass. Fires, ruptured gas lines, things like that. Another mile of heavy damage as you move away from the center. The explosion would decimate Manhattan. Those backpack bombs were dirty. The radiation would contaminate thousands of square miles."
"So he could be anywhere up to a quarter to a half mile away and get what he wants."
"Right."
"Let's look at a map of the city."
Manhattan appeared on the big screen.
"A city block is an eighth of a mile, right?"
"More or less."
Nick used a laser pointer to indicate his thinking. "Call it a mile kill zone, plus another mile for big trouble. That extends sixteen blocks in every direction from 42nd and the UN Plaza, if we use that as ground zero. Roughly from 26th to 58th Street on the East Side. Across the Park to the West Side."
"He doesn't have to be right on the UN." Selena ran her fingers through her hair. "He could set up a quarter mile away in any direction."
They all looked at the screen. New York was a big city. A really big city. Sabbah wasn't a needle in a haystack. He was a speck of dust in the middle of a sandstorm. He could be anywhere. A car. A van. A building. A hotel. Riding in a garbage truck or a taxi cab or the subway. In a church. Hell, he could be sitting on the bomb in the Park feeding squirrels. It was New York. No one would notice.
Something bothered Nick, at the back of his awareness, nagging at him. They were missing something. He stared at the map.
"The dog that didn't bark."
Monroe had a confused expression. "What are you talking about? More assumptions?"
"Sherlock Holmes. The dog that didn't bark. The clue to the mystery was in what didn't happen, what wasn't there. What's not here?"
"Nothing. They've got that place sewed up tighter than a gnat's ass."
"What's the security cordon?"
Stephanie gestured at the map. "Eight blocks north and south of UN Plaza. Over to Midtown on Lexington. The cordon gets tighter as you get closer. All the streets are sealed off. Traffic is a mess."
"The Midtown tunnel? The bridges?"
"Still open, but traffic is funneled south and west. Checkpoints also."
Then Nick saw the flaw. "What about on the other side of the river?"
"The other side?"
"You ever hear of that Eastern Airlines flight that went into the Everglades some years back?"
"The one where everyone was looking at a burned out light?"
"Right, that one. A lot happened to cause that crash, but the main thing was everyone in the cockpit zeroed in on that bulb. They weren't paying attention to anything else. They didn't hear the alarms and flew the plane right into the ground. There's some psych phrase for it."
"Selective attention," Selena volunteered.
"I think that's what we've got here. Look at the map. The UN is right on the East River. How wide is the river?"
"About eight hundred feet," Stephanie said.
"That's a lot less than a quarter mile. What's the security on the other side?"
It dawned on all of them at the same time. "There isn't any. Just the checkpoints."
"Shit." Monroe shook his head. "Everyone's focused on the UN. The bomb's not in Manhattan. It's on the other side of the river."
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
The FBI met them at La Guardia. The agent who took them to the black Suburban they would use was not pleased. His partner sat in an idling Crown Vic, keeping warm.
"This is a waste of time and resources." His name was McFarland. He was dressed in a blue suit and tie, a long overcoat and black rubbers that didn't keep the slush from spilling over into the edges of his shoes. His nose was red. He sneezed.
"Right now we've got over a thousand people out there. No one's getting near the President or anyone else. I should be back on the Plaza, not baby sitting a bunch of wanna be agents."
"Well, McFarland, as soon as you give us the keys we'll be out of your hair and you can get back to whatever you were doing." Nick controlled his temper.
"Can't be soon enough for me. Oh, yeah. When you're done sightseeing, bring it back with the tank full."
McFarland got into the Taurus and drove away, spraying slush behind him.
"Asshole."
&
nbsp; "Yeah, Ronnie. He'd fit right in down in Washington."
They got in the car. Carter and Monroe in front, Selena and Ronnie in back.
"Weapons check."
Nick had a new H-K .45. The others had their Glocks. There were MP-5s in Ronnie's duffle. He handed them around. They all wore armor under their jackets.
"All dressed up and nowhere to go," Lucas commented. "Where do we start?"
"The closest point across the river from the UN is the waterfront in Queens. If he's here, Sabbah will want to get as close as he can."
They studied a map.
"That's a lot of waterfront." Ronnie had his small deerskin pouch out again. Selena reminded herself to ask him about it. Maybe it was like worry beads.
Nick pointed at a green space on the map.
"There's a park right across from the UN Plaza on the east side of the river. Let's start there."
They left La Guardia and followed signs to the Brooklyn Queens Expressway. They crossed Queens Boulevard and turned onto the Queens Midtown Expressway toward Manhattan. Snow and slush lined the side of the road, turning dirty gray. Carter kept the wipers going.
Traffic was bumper to bumper. They hit the flashing lights on their suburban and wove through the mess. The lights didn't help a lot. They exited the expressway before the Queens Midtown tunnel and took Vernon Boulevard north.
Nick saw a subway station. Marked with a number seven in a circle. Like in the dream.
He shivered.
"What's the matter, Nick?" Lucas gave him a curious look. "You look like someone just walked over your grave."
Nick said nothing.
They turned on 48th. The park opened directly ahead of them.
They drove to the park and got out. A cold wind blew off the East River. Sudden sunlight flashed on glass across the water.
The UN Headquarters building.
The park was almost deserted in the raw weather. Two giant gantry cranes dominated the landscape. Four long piers jutted into the East River. The polluted water shimmered in rainbow colors around the pilings. Beyond the piers a wide wooden boardwalk curved along the shoreline. Paths branched off the walk at intervals, ending in circular spaces where people could sit and enjoy the view.
