Stupenagel rolled her eyes. "Only one problem with being the most honest man in this city, Karp, and it's that you couldn't lie your way out of a paper bag."
"Well, that's my story, and I'm sticking to it," he replied as he reached the elevator door and punched the up button.
"I don't suppose it had anything to do with those three heads?" she asked as the door opened and they got on with a small Chinese woman. "Little bird told me that a couple of them were on the most wanted list of terrorists… Another little bird told me that a whole gang of feds rushed into a Broadway theater under renovation over on Forty-fifth Street an hour or so before midnight on New Year's Eve and that certain members of the Karp family were seen being led out and whisked away. That entire block was shut down for two weeks after that."
The Chinese woman gasped at the word terrorists and punched the button that would let her off on the next floor. A bored-looking lawyer and his client, a thin white teenager with tattoos on his neck and hands, got on. "She told me she was fifteen," the teen said. "How was I to know she was twelve?"
Stupenagel started to say something but Karp grabbed her by the arm. "Ow, that hurts," she complained as he led her off the elevator when they reached the fifth floor.
"So does the truth, and half-truths can hurt even more," Karp growled. "Hasn't anybody ever told you that your mouth runs nonstop?"
"All the time." Stupenagel grinned. "In fact, you do. But look, it's my job to ask questions. Can I help it if people like to tell me things even if they shouldn't? So I get the word that these three heads belonged to Islamic terrorists. Good. Somebody's doing the world a favor. But who? And what were these guys up to? Then there's the feds in your office…things are adding up, Karp, but I'm still missing a few numbers. Come on, help a lady out here."
"I might if I could find a lady," he retorted, saw the hurt look on her face, and softened. "Sorry. Look, Ariadne, you are the best there is at what you do-and I hate to admit this but I'm impressed with your integrity as much as your talent-but this isn't something I can tell people about, and maybe you shouldn't either." He was surprised to see Stupenagel's eyes get wet.
"Did you know that was one of maybe three times you've ever called me by my first name or said anything nice to me about me and my work? So okay, for now anyway, I'm going to quit pestering you and Jaxon. But I won't stop digging; it's my job. And I know you know that and respect me for it."
"Don't get carried away with this buddy stuff," Karp growled. Then he grinned and gave her a wink. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Ariadne, I got a trial to win."
"No problem," she said. "I've got to go check in with the press pool. I'm covering the trial so you better be good, Karp, or I'll fry your ass."
Walking off, Karp heard her laugh. He chuckled himself. He hadn't been lying…not entirely. Jaxon, Kluge, and Albert had dropped by his office as a courtesy call to fill him in on the final details of the New Year's Eve escapade.
A Haz Mat team had been flown up from the FBI campus at Quantico to dismantle the bomb and dispose of the nuclear material. "They had enough to level most of Times Square, not to mention throw up a cloud of radioactive dust that might have covered half the island. The leader was that guy I told you about, Al-Sistani. Professionally, I wish we could have captured him and seen if we could get him to talk. Personally, I'd pin the Congressional Medal of Honor on the cowboy," Jaxon said.
All told, twenty foreign terrorists, as well as two-dozen American recruits, had been killed. "The bodies of twice that many-what I can only call street people-"
"-You might try patriots; they didn't have to fight," Karp interjected.
"You're right, patriots, though I'd like to know how they got there, but…," he said when he got a sharp look from Karp, "…we stuck with our deal and didn't go looking for anybody. Your boy's 'kingdom'…what was that guy's name…Grale? Yeah, Grale…anyway, his little kingdom is off-limits as far as we're concerned. I just hope you know what you're doing there, the guy is bonkers. And the grapevine informs me that he still may be breathing-how they do it down there is beyond my comprehension."
"Yeah, maybe," Karp said, "but not all that bad by New York standards."
Jaxon laughed, then pursed his lips. "I'd also like to ask you about the Asian guys with all the high-tech gear who fought with the…patriots," he said, "but I'm guessing you won't say much there."
"I didn't know them," he said truthfully. "But they did a good thing."
"And the Asian guy who was with Marlene but slipped away?"
"What Asian guy?"
"Thought you'd say that. What about the Indian and the cowboy?"
"An old friend and Lucy's…," he hesitated, the word coming hard, "fiance out here visiting for Christmas. They've all three gone back to New Mexico. Guess you could try to talk to them there."
"Already have; they aren't saying much about the street people and Asian commandos, either."
"Vietnamese."
"What? Oh really? Anything else?"
"Didn't know them…except that they were Vietnamese and their bodies should be turned over to the Vietnamese community."
"I'll see to it," Jaxon said, standing up and shaking his hand. "Well, if you see any of these guys, tell them thanks. A lot of people owe them their lives and this country owes them a debt of gratitude."
"If I see them I'll tell them that."
Walking toward the courtroom, Karp reflected that all in all the incident had turned out surprisingly well. As he'd told Marlene, he'd only waited a half hour before he called Jaxon and, after making him promise that he'd give his wife and the others another hour, filled him in.
Jaxon had at first been angry for the delay. But when he listened to the plan, he'd conceded that "Ciampi's Commandos," as he called them, might have been right. He then summoned his SWAT team and picked up Karp on the way to the theater.
The FBI agent tried to get him to wait in the command truck but Karp shook his head. "No way," he said. "That's my family in there. I'll stay out of the way, but give me a gun; I'm going."
They reached Marlene and Tran, who'd taken up a defensive position behind a pile of rocks just as the terrorists were closing in. They'd run out of ammunition and drawn their knives for a last stand when the SWAT team arrived and routed them.
"Well, if it ain't John Wayne and the Seventh Cavalry." Marlene grinned. "But come on, the job's not finished. The rest of them are up the tunnel…" Marlene paused and listened to her headset. She took off running, waving the SWAT team to follow. "We have to move fast…the leader is retreating toward the bomb, he may blow it!"
Meanwhile, after climbing out of the sewer drain, Jojola and Ned had found the going easy until they'd almost reached the tunnel entrance, where Ned had to shoot two guards. Jojola told them, "The guy was just finishing the fuse-little electric hookup-didn't see me until I slit his throat. We were trying to figure out how to get to Zak with all those armed guys when Grale flies from the ceiling like some kind of vampire, then goes after them."
When it was over, Marlene rushed back to her dog. Gilgamesh turned out to be as tough as his namesake and survived, but not everyone was as fortunate. They'd attended the funeral for Rashad Salaam at the twins' insistence. Afterward, Khalif had come over to shake his hand. "Rashad wasn't bad," he said. "He died saving me."
"So what are you going to do now?" Karp said.
"Funny you should ask," Khalif said. "My lawyer is filing papers on your ass-nothing personal-and I'll use the money to go to college. Maybe someplace where I can walk on and play ball."
Marlene had been upset about the death of the street people and especially Tran's men. "I know the older one had been with him since Vietnam," she said. "And one was his cousin's son, a doctor. They all died heroically."