He started for the door, wishing, really wishing, that Prather would let him go. He knew that he wouldn’t, though.
“No,” the man said, before Hauk even got halfway across the room.
He turned back around.
“P-please,” Prather stammered. “I need your help. I can’t handle anything like this.”
“Yeah,” Hauk said, and returned to the table. He sat down in the chair opposite the Secretary.
Prather took short, nervous pulls on his cigarette. He didn’t offer one to the Commissioner, so Hauk just reached across the table and took one.
“What have we got?” Prather asked.
Hauk lit up and took a deep drag. It tasted stale, metallic. “We’ve got two choices,” he replied. “We can either try to go in and get him out, or we can wait on the prisoners. They’re holding him for something, some kind of ransom. As soon as they figure out what they want, they’ll try to deal for him.”
He sat back, watching the glowing, dead ash build up on the end of the smoker, “It’s a big city,” he said, “in case you haven’t noticed. I seriously doubt that we could even find him if we went in, much less rescue him alive. So, I strongly suggest that we wait for the ransom demands.”
“We can’t,” Prather said softly.
“What do you mean, we can’t?”
Prather pursed his lips, his eyes once again drifting to the city map. “John Harker is on a very delicate mission right now. He was on his way to a summit meeting in Hartford that will, most likely, determine the final outcome of the war.”
Hauk closed his eyes and leaned back. He didn’t want to hear this. “What sort of mission?”
Prather looked around, as if somebody might be eavesdropping. He lowered his nervous voice. “There is a briefcase cuffed to his arm that holds a cassette. The cassette talks about a powerful new bomb, a fusion bomb that…”
“Never mind,” Hauk snapped. “I don’t need to know. How much time have you got to get him there?”
“Just about twenty-four hours,” Prather answered. “After that, the Russians and Chinese go back home and things get crazy again. We’ve worked for years to set up this meeting. I doubt that we could ever get another chance.”
Hauk stood up and began pacing. “Who’s making the top end decisions right now?” he asked after a minute.
“The Vice President,” Prather answered, and rested his hand on the red phone. “He’s waiting on the other end of this line to hear from us.”
“Will he be cooperative?”
“What have you got in mind?”
Hauk stopped pacing and stood, staring at the map, his hands at parade rest behind him. “We could never get in there with troops,” he said over his shoulder. “We’d never even find enough of him to bury.”
“Then, what?”
“One person could get in,” he said. “One person could move around unnoticed.”
“Have you got someone in mind?”
Hauk turned around, pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and threw it on the floor. “Maybe,” he said, and crushed the smoldering butt with the heel of his shoe.
He moved across the room to a phone by the map. He picked it up and spoke as soon as the operator came on. “Cronenberg,” was all he said.
He waited while the receiver buzzed in his ear. After several rings, a craggy voice came through the line. “Medical,” it said.
“Cronenberg, this is Hauk.”
“Hello, Commissioner, I haven’t heard from you in…”
“Do you have a prisoner down there named Plissken?”
“Why, yes, he’s a…”
“I’ve got no time, Doctor. Just listen to me: detain Plissken in processing. I may have something for him. Can you do that?”
“Well, yes. I…”
“No time, Doctor. Are you still working on that Stinger Project?”
“On and off.”
“Does it work?”
“Theoretically.”
“Get it ready. We may be testing it out.”
“You mean… on a human?”
“Yeah. I’m up in conference. Get your directives going and get your ass up here.”
He hung up the phone without waiting for a reply, then turned back to Prather. “Here it is: we’ve got a prisoner here, name of Plissken. He’s one of the world’s all-time slippery bastards. I say we offer him amnesty, and give him twenty-four hours to get the President out to earn it. He’s smart and he’s one of them. He could do things that we can’t.”
“Do you really think it will work?”
Hauk walked over and leaned on the table, staring Prather down. “Probably not,” he replied. “But it’s the only game in town.”
“How do you know he’ll even keep his part of the bargain?”
Hauk smiled slightly, more a grimace. “I’ve got an ace in the hole.” He sat back down. “I would suggest that you get your Vice President on the phone right now.”
Prather picked up the receiver and waited for the connections. Hauk thought a minute and realized that he didn’t even know the Vice President’s name. Was he that far out of touch?
He moved away from the table, back over to the map. Prather began talking over the phone, but his voice was just outside the range of Hauk’s hearing.
It was an old map, pre-war. The Battery Park area was shaded a pale green. If they did the map now, they’d have to make it dull brown. He traced the streets with his eyes. Many of them he had walked at length, looking for Jerry.
He listened to the drone of Prather’s voice for a minute, then turned and walked near the Secretary to catch what was being said.
The man was nodding his head. “I’m convinced there’s no connection, sir. The prisoners aren’t aware of the hijacking. As far as they’re concerned, it was an accident… yes sir. He’s right here.”
Prather made a face. “This is Bob Hauk,” he said and handed the red receiver across the table. It was warm to the touch.
Hauk stood there, hearing the man’s voice, but not really listening. The Vice President was simply saying all the same things that Prather had said earlier.
“We can’t,” Hauk said at the proper time. “If we go down there with choppers, they’ll kill him. We’re lucky now if he’s still alive.”
“What do they want?” the voice said, and it sounded tired, too.
“They don’t want anything, yet, and by the time they figure out what they want, it’ll be too late.”
Prather was tugging on his sleeve. “Tell him we have to go with your plan now!”
On the phone, the Vice President was saying something about tomorrow. He didn’t want to make a decision either.
“We can’t wait until tomorrow. If we have to move in and take the island, it’s a last resort. It’s nine oh five. I want permission to try the rescue.”
There was dead air on the line for a time, then, “All right. Try your rescue. But, I’m warning you…”
“I know,” Hauk interrupted. “It’s my responsibility.”
He hung up the phone and looked at Prather. The tension was draining somewhat out of the man’s face. There was a sharp knock on the door.
“Come,” Hauk said, and Cronenberg walked in. He was tall and slightly stooped, his posture and long white lab coat making him look somewhat like a whooping crane. He was old-looking, but it was a healthy old. His features were rugged and likable.
“Is it ready?” Hauk asked.
The man fixed him with a cold stare. “Yes, but I can’t guarantee..”
“How long will it take?”
“A few seconds. But I’m against using it.”
Hauk slapped a hand on the tabletop. “I have a directive from Washington.”
Cronenberg moved over to him, and it was obvious that the man was angry inside, that he was just barely keeping that anger under control. “This is an experimental unit, Hauk,” he said. “I’ve never tried it on a man. This isn’t like you.”
Hauk didn’t have time to be diplomatic. “You can test it out,” he said.
A black-suited, overweight sergeant stuck his head in the door. His eyes bypassed Hauk and stopped on Cronenberg. “They just took him in to quarantine,” he said.
“Bring him to my office,” Hauk returned. The man left. He looked at Cronenberg. “Warm up your machine, Doctor.”