by Stuart Woods
Holly was on the phone.
—
Stone stared at Dino. “What is that thing with the green light?” he asked.
“A couple of weeks ago, Viv and I went to the theater, and there were cell phones ringing all around us, all through the first act. I saw that thing in a catalogue and ordered it. It creates a dead zone big enough to fill a room.”
“It must work, then,” Stone said. Then, as he watched, the green light went out.
Dino picked up the little box, opened the battery compartment, and fiddled with the single AA battery. The light came back on.
The sound of sirens and whoopers filled the air, and suddenly the street was full of flashing lights and men in body armor. Dino held his badge high, so they could see it. “On the job, guys!” he yelled. “Get me a bomb guy over here.”
A moment later, a man in really big armor and a helmet with a plastic shield over his face appeared. “What have we got here?”
“Very large bomb,” Dino said, pointing into the van.
“Holy shit!” the man said.
“That little box with the green light made a dead zone in the car, but you’d better get that thing disconnected before it blows. It’s probably booby-trapped.”
“Get the hell out of here, both of you,” the man said, and Stone and Dino retreated into the house and sat down in Joan’s office. “Where are the girls?” Stone asked.
“They took off after a white car,” Dino said, producing his cell phone and pressing a speed dial button. He turned on the speaker. The call failed.
“It’s your black box,” Stone said.
Dino kept trying.
“Yeah?” Viv said.
“It’s Dino. Where are you and Holly?”
“On Second Avenue. We shot two people in a white Toyota, a man and a woman. I think the woman is Jasmine.”
“God, I hope you’re right,” Dino said.
“She made a call on a cell phone before I could stop her,” Viv said, “but the call failed.”
“Turn off that cell phone,” Dino said. “It’s real important.”
“Holly’s checking out the trunk of the Toyota,” Viv said. “Hang on, we’ve got a laptop!”
“There will be cops all over you in a minute,” Dino said. “I think Holly gets custody of the laptop.”
“She’s already called somebody,” Viv said. “Why are all the lights on Second Avenue red?”
“I called in a code red,” Dino said.
“Good call, Dino. If they’d had a green light, they’d be gone.”
“I’ll tell the commissioner you said so.”
“We’ll come back to Stone’s house as soon as the scene is squared away,” Viv said.
“Hurry,” Dino replied, and hung up.
“Dino,” Stone said, “how much explosive matter was in that van? What’s your guess?”
“I dunno—forty, fifty kilos, maybe.”
Stone heaved a deep sigh. “I’m going to get one of those black boxes,” he said. “Could you use a drink?”
“Is the Pope a mackerel snapper?”
Holly and Viv went through four suitcases in the trunk. “I got an iPhone from the purse on the car seat, but this is just clothes and stuff,” Holly said.
“Except for that laptop,” Viv replied. She looked up and saw a dozen uniforms running up Second Avenue toward them. “You get out of here with the computer and the iPhone,” Viv said. “I’ll deal with the uniforms.”
“Do you still have a badge?”
Viv produced a small shield. “Just my retirement shield, but it’ll work. She held it up and shouted, “On the job, fellas!” as they surrounded the car.
Holly held up her own ID. “CIA!”
Everybody relaxed.
Holly ran the dozen blocks to the Agency building, pacing herself, using her cell phone to call ahead. “I’m inbound on foot,” she said to the duty officer. “I’ve got a hot Mac Air and an iPhone, and we need to lift everything from it, even if it’s coded.”
“We’ve got an NSA lady who’s in town to retrain our tech guys for new software,” the officer said.
“Find her and get her to the building right now,” Holly said. “I’ll be there in six minutes.” She broke the connection and pressed her speed dial button for the police commissioner.
“Holly? Where the hell are you? We got a code red from Dino Bacchetti, and I’ve flooded Turtle Bay and Second Avenue with personnel.”
“Frank, Jasmine is dead, and I have her laptop and cell phone. I’m headed to my office now, and we’ve got an NSA tech in town who can help us with it.”
“I’ll be there just as soon as we’ve cleared the Turtle Bay scene,” the commissioner said.
“See you then.” Holly hung up and called Stone.
“Hey, where are you?”
“On the way to my office with Jasmine’s laptop and phone.”
“Why are you panting?”
“Because I’m running. Don’t expect me back there tonight.”
“I understand.” He told her about Dino’s black box.
“Brilliant! I’m going to order dozens! Gotta go.” She hung up and ran up to the door of her building. The security guard recognized her and buzzed her in. “Where’s the duty officer?” she asked the man.
“In the ops room, two floors down,” he replied.
She pressed the elevator button, then rode down.
—
An hour and a half later, the NSA tech called Holly in her office. “Got it all,” she said. “The files were encoded, but it was no match for our computer.”
“E-mail me the pages now,” Holly said. She hung up and turned to the commissioner, who was sitting on her sofa, drinking coffee. “We’re into her computer,” she said. “They’re sending me what they found.”
“Good news!”
“We’re due for some,” Holly said. She opened her mail program and printed out two copies of the files, then handed the commissioner a stack of papers.
He scanned the pages quickly. “I don’t believe our luck,” he said. “There’s contact information for each of the other four cells in the other cities.”
“We’re going to need the FBI for this,” Holly said. “They’re the only ones who have people on the ground in these cities.”
“You want to call them, or should I?”
“I think that should be done director to director,” Holly said, then called the White House switchboard and asked for Kate Lee.
“Holly? What’s going on in New York with Jasmine’s computer?”
“We’ve broken into her laptop. We have locations for the four al Qaeda cells in the other cities, and I think you should get them to the FBI.”
“I’ll call the director,” Kate said.
“I’ll e-mail you both the pages. Please tell him it’s important they all be hit at the same time.”
“I’ll do that and call you back.” She hung up.
“Kate’s on it,” she said to the commissioner. She e-mailed the files from the laptop and the phone to both directors.
“I’ve already told my deputy for public affairs to keep a lid on this until he gets my order.”
“Then all we can do for now is wait,” Holly said. “By the way, it was Viv DeCarlo who put Jasmine down. Check the ballistics. You should be proud of her.”
“I’ve always been proud of her,” the commissioner said, “and I hate to lose her. She retired today.”
“I know, we had dinner together earlier this evening.”
“I just thought of something,” the commissioner said.
“What?”
“Never mind. Let me check it out before I break it to you.” He got out his phone and walked down to the other end of the room.
Holly looked at her watch: it was two A.M. Her phone rang. “Holly Barker.”
“It’s Kate. The director says he can hit all four cells simultaneously in three hours. He’s already given the orders.”
“At five a
.m., then,” Holly said.
“Take a nap,” Kate said. “I’ll call you when I hear something.”
Holly walked over to her sofa and stretched out. The commissioner was still on his phone. She took a deep breath, let it out, and dozed off.
Stone was having his breakfast in bed while watching Morning Joe. “We’ve just heard that the president will be making an important announcement shortly,” Scarborough said, “and we’re switching to the Today show for that.”
The White House press secretary appeared on-screen. “Ladies and gentlemen, the president of the United States.” The White House press corps leaped to their feet as the president took the stage.
“Good morning,” Will Lee said. “Last night in New York City a failed bombing attack resulted in the deaths of two CIA security officers and two al Qaeda terrorists. Jasmine Shazaz, who was wanted in both New York and London for recent bombing attacks, and her principal henchman died in a gunfight with a CIA officer and a retired NYPD detective, both of whom emerged unhurt. This event was made possible by an NYPD rapid response effort that had been put into effect only in the past few weeks, along with intelligence from the British counterintelligence service, MI-6. Following the deaths of the two al Qaeda operatives, a laptop computer and a cell phone found in their vehicle were unencrypted by the NSA, and as a result, FBI SWAT teams, in conjunction with police officers from the relevant jurisdictions, conducted raids in four other cities—Boston, Chicago, Los Angeles, and Atlanta—that resulted in the deaths or capture of nineteen al Qaeda terrorists and the wounding of two FBI agents, both of whom were treated in local hospitals and are now recovering at home.
“This remarkable, coordinated effort on the part of two federal agencies, a foreign intelligence service, and five local police departments has made the most emphatic statement since the killing of Osama bin Laden that the United States and her ally, Great Britain, will meet and destroy every effort made to harm our people through terrorism. I congratulate all the officers involved and their commanders on a superb effort. Because of security restraints, I will not be responding to questions on this occasion, but more information will be released by the White House as it becomes confirmed and available. Thank you.”
The president turned and walked from the stage as the press began shouting questions at the press secretary.
Stone switched to three other stations and found the same thing on each of them. After he had showered, shaved, and dressed, the story was still running on all channels. As he was about to go downstairs, Holly arrived, exhausted but elated.
Stone embraced her. “Congratulations on a great night.”
“Did you see the president on television?” she asked.
“Yes, and he was perfect.”
“Where are Dino and Viv?”
“At home asleep, I hope.”
“Viv was wonderful,” Holly said. “It was she who shot Jasmine before the woman could shoot me.”
“That’s two villains she’s taken out this year,” Stone said.
“That’s right—she got her medal for taking out Shelley Bach, didn’t she?”
“And saving Dino’s ass.”
“And Dino saved all our asses with his little black box.”
“You’re absolutely right. I think by way of thanks we should throw his and Viv’s wedding reception here.”
“It’s the least we can do.”
“You’re exhausted. Get some sleep. There’s no more you can do today. I’ll tell Joan to cut the phones off up here.”
Holly nodded. “First a soak in the tub, then sleep.”
Stone went and ran her bath while she undressed.
“Don’t drown,” he said, as she sank into the hot water.
The living room and dining room of Stone’s house were filled with a hundred or so guests, most of them cops, celebrating Dino and Viv’s wedding, which a judge had legalized in the garden an hour before.
A jazz trio was filling the rooms with music, and as they finished a number, the police commissioner stepped forward, took the microphone, and called for everyone’s attention.
“I have a few words—very few words to say—about the honorees this evening. A couple of weeks ago I was pleased to award the Police Combat Cross to Viv DeCarlo on the occasion of her retirement from the NYPD. Now I have the doubly great honor of awarding our highest decoration to Vivian DeCarlo Bacchetti and her new husband, Lieutenant Dino Bacchetti. The Medal of Honor is awarded for acts of gallantry and valor performed with knowledge of the risk involved, above and beyond the call of duty, and the actions of both Viv and Dino rose to that level on the night in question. Together, they saved many, many lives and rid our city of a vile terrorist who had already done us great harm.” The commissioner pinned the medals on the newlyweds, to the cheering and applause of all present.
The music started again, and the crowd rushed forward to congratulate the couple, then they resumed dancing.
Stone and Holly were standing with Dino and Viv when the commissioner approached, swept them into Stone’s study, and closed the door behind them. “There’s more,” the commissioner said. “First of all, tomorrow Detective Sean Leary will be awarded the Police Combat Cross for his actions on that night.”
“He deserves it,” Dino said.
“Also,” the commissioner said, removing an envelope from his inside pocket and handing it to Viv, “the FBI has asked me to pass along something to you. The director regrets that he was unable to join us this evening.”
Viv took the envelope. “Thank you, Commissioner.” She peeked inside it and gasped. “What is this?”
“It’s the reward the FBI put up for taking Jasmine out of action.”
Viv turned to Dino. “We’re going to start looking for a bigger apartment tomorrow.”
“And one other thing,” the commissioner said. “Word has reached me that Dino passed the captain’s exam—and at the top of the list.”
Stone shook Dino’s hand and clapped him on the back.
“And there’s still more,” the commissioner said. “A few weeks ago, Robert Morgan told me of his intention to retire as chief of detectives, and I am promoting Dino to that office, effective the day after his return from his honeymoon.”
Dino’s face registered shock.
“Don’t worry, Dino, you’ll still be a cop,” the commissioner said. “I will appoint a deputy chief of detectives for administration, who will deal with the paper. I’m perfectly aware that I’m jumping you over the heads of a dozen captains who’ve had more time in rank, but that’s my prerogative.”
“In that case, Commissioner, just to annoy all those captains, I accept,” Dino said.
“I expect this news will encourage a few of them to retire, making possible a number of promotions. And there’s just one more thing,” the commissioner said, “then you can all go and get even drunker.”
Everybody laughed.
“Tomorrow, I’m going to announce my candidacy for mayor of the City of New York, and I want you to know, Dino, that should I be elected—and I expect to be—I will not forget you.”
All present applauded and shook the commissioner’s hand.
“And,” the commissioner finally said, “I want to congratulate Holly on her appointment as permanent chief of the New York station of the CIA.”
“I think,” Holly said, “that since this may be the last time I can get really drunk, we should take the chief’s advice and go do it!”
“Viv,” Dino said, “how much was the reward?”
Viv clasped the envelope to her bosom. “Don’t ask.”
—
Later, Stone and Holly lay in each other’s arms, finally relaxed and exhausted.
“At last, with Jasmine out of the picture, we can feel safe again,” Stone said.
Holly sighed. “For the moment,” she replied.
—
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