Davis stepped forward and leaned on the desk. "Is it an Alarm?"
The Oculus covered his black eyes with a trembling hand. "Yes."
"What's an Alarm?" Jack said.
Davis turned to him. "A warning from the Ally."
Right. The timing seemed just a bit too convenient. He knew the guy was trying to sell him on joining up, and Jack had been listening. But if he thought—
With a cry the Oculus fell out of his chair and landed on the floor. He began to writhe, shake, and shudder.
Jack jumped to his feet and started toward him, but Miller put out a restraining arm.
"Leave him be."
"Yeah," Davis said. "It's like this every time. We have to let it run its course."
4
The Alarms are always silent, yet they never come alone. Pain is their devoted companion. This is why he dreads them. Icy blades stab his brain as lights strobe behind his squeezed lids. He feels the world tip beneath him and, though he instinctively reaches for the edges of his desk, he knows he's going to fall.
A scene leaps into view… an empty subway platform… smoke roiling from one of the tunnels… on the tiled walclass="underline" WEST 4th.
That fades to gray…
Then his inner vision lights with a street scene. He recognizes the New York Public Library in the background. A sudden burst of flame and flying debris obscures the building as a bus explodes.
More gray…
Then another subway with another smoking tunnel. He makes out 59TH ST on the wall.
Yet more gray…
Then a man standing in the center of the crowded main floor of Grand Central Station… the man explodes, the blast tearing those nearest to pieces, the ball bearings and nails and screws he embedded in his explosives dropping those farther away.
Gray…
And then a car midspan on the Brooklyn Bridge… it explodes…
Gray again… much longer than before…
And now half a dozen men in the front room of a shabby apartment… they are cramming bars of claylike material into the pockets of work vests… through the glass of the window behind them a bridge is visible over the roof of the building across the street.
And then the pain fades along with the light and the visions… and all becomes dark again.
5
Jack listened with a growing sense of dread as the Oculus described his visions.
When he'd stopped his seizure and come to, Miller had helped him back to his desk where he now sat, looking pale and shaken.
"They're… they're going to paralyze the whole city," Davis said in a hushed tone.
Jack agreed. Subway nexuses like West 4th and 59th Street, a bus, a railway center, a bridge… and those might be just a sampling. But even if they were the whole plot, these bombings would affect the entire city—much more so than the London bombs affected the Brits. Those hadn't played out against the backdrop of the fall of the Trade Towers or the LaGuardia Massacre. New Yorkers didn't have the history of terrorism the Brits had suffered from the IRA. Millions of people, afraid to step on a train or a bus, would stay home. The city would grind to a halt.
Miller kicked a wall. "Where do we find these fucks?"
"I… don't know."
That set Jack back.
"You don't know? Last time you told them Cailin's exact location."
The Oculus had the heels of his palms pressed against his temples.
"You have to understand, these Alarms are like short-wave radio. The reception isn't consistent. Sometimes it fluctuates and the images fade in and out. Reception last time was excellent: I saw the intersection, saw the front of the building, saw the cellar door. But this time…"
"You said you saw a man in a room… anything about the room that'll give us a clue? Like, if maybe he belongs to Wrath of Allah?"
The Oculus lifted his head. "Wrath of Allah? Why them, rather than Al Qaeda?"
Jack didn't want to get into the personal score he had to settle with Wrath of Allah.
"They did LaGuardia. It's the same kind of MO."
The Oculus shook his head. "'No, no posters or anything. Just a room… bare walls… wait. Out the window, to the left, I saw a bridge—and not too faraway."
"The Brooklyn?"
"No, it was arched, two levels—"
Davis and Jack spoke in unison: "The Verrazano."
Jack said, "Day or night?"
"Day. Bright sunlight outside."
"Where was it angling from?"
"From above and behind it, I think… no, I'm sure. The side toward me was in shadow."
Jack said, "Could be Bay Ridge."
"Yeah," Miller said softly, menace edging his voice. "Lots of mosques in Bay Ridge. And only a few miles from here."
But something about this bothered Jack.
"So am I to take it that the Ally is anti-Islam? Pro-U.S. and anti-Arab? When did it become politicized?"
Miller laughed. "Yeah, that's right—the Ally is a Republican."
The Oculus cleared his throat. "The Otherness feeds on anything that causes fear, pain, and discord. As does the Adversary. The Ally warned us about nine-eleven, but we weren't able to find the culprits in time."
"You mean you didn't call it in?"
"Of course we did—to the FBI, the CIA, the NYPD—but we didn't know who or when. So our warnings were ignored. Obviously."
"Why did the Ally choose you? 'Cause you're in New York?"
"For major conflagrations, all Oculi receive the same vision. For minor occurrences—like the girl—only I, being the nearest, would receive that Alarm. In the nine-eleven matter, a number of us in the Eastern states donated yeniceri to the search."
Miller held up a thumb and forefinger, a quarter inch between them. "Missed the fuckers by this much."
"Oh, what a feast that must have been for the Adversary," the Oculus said. "I was also shown the pain and fear caused by the terrorism in Iraq after the conquest, but there was nothing we could do to prevent that."
As awful as 9/11 had been, the LaGuardia Massacre had had much more of an impact on Jack's life.
"What about LaGuardia?" Jack said. "Were you warned about that?"
The Oculus lowered his gaze to the desktop. "In a way."
"But you couldn't prevent that either?"
"Prevent it? No."
"We can do something to prevent this," Davis said. He turned to Jack. "You with us?"
This was all moving too fast. He'd come here to learn a little more about these folks, but now he was being pressured into joining them on an operation.
He didn't like it, but how could he say no?
These bombings would hurt the city more than 9/11 and LaGuardia combined. Unlike Jack, the city had already bounced back from LaGuardia. In both cases people could tell themselves that they worked in a bagel shop or a bookstore or a sweatshop and that no one was going to fly a plane into those places, or hose them with machine-gun fire. The average Joes and Janes could figure they were too small-time to be a target.
But this tactic would have a wider effect: If the subways and buses and trains and bridges they rode on every day could be blown up, so could they.
If the Oculus's visions were real and true—and Jack still needed convincing on that score—he couldn't walk away.
"Let's just say I do tag along. What's the plan?"
Miller's smile flickered on and off. "Simple. Find 'em, finish 'em, and forget 'em."
"Like in that cellar the other night?"
"Right."
Davis said, "Except there's a lot more at stake here than a little girl."
Jack saw the find em part as a major problem. He turned to the Oculus.
"How much time do we have?"
"I don't know. The visions have no time sequence. For instance, in the matter of the girl, I was shown her after they'd finished with her." He shuddered. "That was what would have happened had we not intervened."