"Who?" Tran asked.
"Oh, I think Gilgamesh would like a little outing," she replied.
For the next three hours, the loft was turned into a staging area for guerilla warfare. Tran's two men disappeared and then returned with several suitcases, which, when opened, revealed Mac-10 submachine guns with silencers and nightscopes. Another suitcase yielded K-bar knives, Rigel night-vision goggles, and headset radios. Lucy and Marlene returned from another shopping trip with black turtlenecks and black pants. "Afraid we had to pay top dollar at Macy's," Marlene said.
As the others dressed and prepared, the older of Tran's men saw Ned cleaning his Peacemaker. He walked over to the younger man and tried to hand him a Mac-10. "You'll need a little more firepower," he said.
Ned shook his head. "I don't know the first thing about that gun," he said. "And probably couldn't hit the broad side of a barn."
"It fires a hundred rounds in the time it would take you to empty your gun," the man said.
"It only takes one to kill a man."
The man shrugged and left the cowboy inserting the.45-caliber rounds into the chamber.
They were ready with an hour to spare, a time each spent lost in his or her own thoughts, except for Lucy and Ned, who disappeared into her bedroom. Karp watched them leave but this time didn't resent it. The young will find a way to celebrate life, even in the darkest times, he thought. He glanced over at Marlene, who stood looking out the window. He walked over. "Got that key?"
"What key?"
"Your Christmas key," he said. "Get it, I want to show you something."
When Marlene returned from their bedroom with the key, Karp led the way out of the loft, down the stairs, and to the building across the street. He punched in a security code to get in and flicked on a light switch.
"Oooh, now this is mysterious." Marlene laughed as he led her to the elevator and hit the button to take them to the top floor. "So you've been keeping a little pad on the side for your mistresses, and now that we may all die, you were feeling guilty and wanted to show me, eh?"
"Would you stop with the mistresses," Karp said, suddenly peeved.
Marlene realized she'd chosen the wrong moment for levity. "I'm sorry, Butch, I'm trying not to think about what's happening with our son, or what could happen in the next few hours."
"That's okay, I shouldn't have snapped," he said. "I'm scared to death, too, and if I think about it too much, it might overwhelm me. I know I should be worried about all those people up at Times Square, but the only people on my mind are my family." He tried a smile. "Anyway, enough of this; come on, I have something to show you."
He led the way down a corridor to a door on the south end of the building. "Go ahead, use your key," he said.
Marlene inserted the key in the dead bolt, turned it, and then opened the door. Karp put his arm around her waist to hold her back for a moment as he reached inside to turn on the lights. "It's not quite finished," he said. "But I hope you'll like it."
He let her go and heard her gasp as she entered. Essentially the inside was one large room with a tall, vaulted ceiling. The part away from the windows had been set up as a reading area with a couch, overstuffed chairs, and a stereo. But most of the room was empty, except for an easel that stood over by the big picture windows that Marlene had admired from her own home across the street. The sun had set but the twilight bathed the room in a soft glow as though gold dust had been sprinkled in the air.
"I don't understand," she said, turning back to Karp. "You kicking me out or something, buddy?"
Karp laughed. "Not in a million years. It's just an art studio where you can get away from the hustle and bustle of the family and really concentrate on your painting. And over there," he said, pointing, "is a sink and shelves for working in clay. In case you decide to expand on your artistic endeavors. It was supposed to be done at Christmas, but you know how construction goes in New York."
Marlene was speechless for so long that Karp began to wonder if he'd messed up. Maybe I should have just stuck with the tennis bracelet idea, he thought. Then he really grew concerned when she began to cry.
"Oh, my God, Butch, I must have been a saint in my previous life-took care of lepers and fed the poor-to have deserved you as my husband," she said. She walked over and flung her arms around his neck and began kissing him with an urgency that carried them over to the couch.
A half hour later, Karp and Marlene walked back into their loft holding hands. "We were beginning to think that perhaps you'd decided to go get Zak on your own," Jojola said.
"How do you like your studio?" Tran asked.
"How did you know?" Karp asked.
"Easy. It's my construction company doing the work."
"Well, in that case, I'd like to talk to you about completion dates…missed completion dates, that is."
"Maybe if you weren't so picky with the paint colors and carpeting we might have-"
"Gentlemen," Marlene interrupted, "can we take this up some other time. I believe we have a son and a city to rescue."
Ten minutes later they were ready to go. The guns and other equipment had been repacked and taken to a van that was waiting outside. While the others trooped off down the stairs, Marlene said good-bye to Karp and Giancarlo, who'd emerged sleepy-eyed and in tears.
"Don't go," Giancarlo wept.
"I have to go get your brother, honey," Marlene said. "He sent you to get help; we can't let him down, can we?"
Giancarlo shook his head and crowded in against his father, who wrapped his arm around his son's shoulders. "Just promise me you'll come back," he sobbed.
Marlene looked up and into her husband's eyes. "I promise," she said. She turned to go, giving a silent hand signal to Gilgamesh, who jumped up and bounded out the door ahead of her.
"Momma!" Giancarlo yelled, but she was gone.
Fifteen minutes later, a white van pulled up in an alley across the street from the theater. Nine people and one very large dog jumped out and headed into a side door of the older apartment building that faced the theater and had been opened by a young Vietnamese man in the uniform of a New York City police officer. A few minutes later, they were all safely in a dark room looking out at their target.
"Two men out front," said a second young Vietnamese man, who was also dressed as a cop. "We don't think they are using radios to communicate with those inside because we've seen them using hand signals. There is another man just inside the doors. He apparently asks those who enter for a password, which may be problematic as it makes sense that they have some sort of video surveillance unit inside the theater to watch the front. Once someone goes in, they don't come back out, at least not this way, so this must be their access to the tunnels."
"Well done, Minh," Tran said. He turned to the others. "So it appears we will have to fight our way in, which will take our element of surprise."
"Maybe not," Jojola said. He'd been thinking about his dreams. Charlie Many Horses rarely spoke to him unless there was a good reason. "Remember what the bear said," he said aloud.
"What?" Marlene asked.
"What the bear said," Jojola repeated. "Lucy, what was that Arabic response?"
"Wa alaikum salaam?" Lucy replied.
"Yes, now give that to me again," Jojola said.
After he'd repeated it until Lucy gave him a nod, Jojola turned to the others. "Okay, here's my plan; if you have a better one, speak up."
A few minutes later, the two men outside the theater watched an old bum who stood across the street facing them. The man's long hair and beard were matted and he wore a filthy Santa Claus suit with high-top tennis shoes. He'd been standing there for an hour, just watching them; their shouts telling him to move on had done nothing. Only now did he say something, and in a voice that seemed to bounce off the nearby buildings: