"Not going to be a next time."
Davis stared at him. "What? You can't be serious."
"Dead serious. This isn't going to work. Call me anal, but I like doing things, my way. I do not like other people making decisions for me, even if they mean well, even if our goals are in tune. How I score is as important as the scoring."
"Look. I'll see to it that you never get teamed with Miller again. I can—"
Jack held up a hand. "Won't matter. It simply isn't going to work."
Davis leaned so far over the table he looked as if he were going to climb on it.
"This isn't about you, Jack. It's about everybody. I'm sorry your sensibilities took a beating tonight, but this is too important to let your ego get in the way."
"Nothing to do with ego."
"Then what? We're in the fight of our lives and we're losing. Every day the Otherness encroaches just a little bit more. Each little increment doesn't seem like much at the time, but if you look back you can see how far it's come. Stalin used the tactic in Eastern Europe. He called it 'salami slicing.' In other words, if you grab the whole salami, there'll be hell to pay. But filch a slice at a time and it's barely noticed; and even if it is, no one gets too upset. But keep on niching those slices and eventually you'll have—"
"The whole salami. I know."
"That's what the Otherness is up to. And it's winning. You know why? Because it's more motivated. The Ally doesn't eat salami, it wants it simply because owning it is part of winning. But the Otherness loves salami—it doesn't just want us, it needs us. It'll feed on the negative emotions it can create once it takes over."
"Well, your pal Miller served up some snacks tonight."
"But it would have been so much worse if we hadn't stopped them. And say what you want about Miller, he's out there sweating in the firebreaks, doing whatever's necessary to keep the Otherness from spreading."
"That doesn't excuse—"
"We need you, Jack. We've been falling apart since we lost the Twins. Tonight was a perfect example. Miller wouldn't have dreamed of pulling that stunt if the Twins were still around. We need a new center. You—the Heir—you can provide that. You can get us back on track."
Jack felt the walls closing in. Davis was right about the Otherness winning—he felt it in his bones—and the importance of keeping it at bay, but he'd hated tonight. And yet, he wanted access to the Oculus to keep tabs on the big picture.
Things had been so much easier before he'd heard of these people.
He fished out a twenty and threw it on the table as he rose.
"I'll think about it. I'll be away on some business for a while. I'll contact you when I get back. Maybe."
He didn't give Davis a chance to reply.
MONDAY
1
Jack awoke to the blather of 880 AM, one of the city's all-news radio stations.
Last night, after checking his street to see if the mysterious stranger was hanging around—he wasn't—he'd turned on the radio and fallen asleep listening. He'd awakened a few times during the night but heard no mention of new explosions.
Same thing this morning.
So far so good. But the morning was still young.
No one was commenting yet on exactly what had exploded and who might have been killed. And no word about an apartment in Bay Ridge. The feds were playing it silent and savvy.
He checked his clock. Not quite six yet. Manhattan's rush hour wouldn't be in full swing for another hour or so. Still time for terror to start.
Yeah, they'd blown one group of cockroaches and their stash to hell, but he couldn't help worrying: What if more than one cell was involved? And what if that other cell had its own stash? Were they saving it for another day or were they planning to use it this morning in a two-pronged, coordinated attack? Compound the terror with a second strike?
That was why he'd wanted to feed the slimy bastards to the feds. But goddamn Miller…
He should have called the feds the instant he saw the drums of Semtex.
Screw the team approach.
Then again, if not for the Oculus and the MV, he never would have known about the plot.
He hated this.
He showered, got dressed, then went out. Not too cold. He decided to walk over to Gia's instead of grabbing a cab. Wanted to get a feel for the mood of the city. The Staten Island explosion, located as it had been in a storage facility, had terrorist written all over it.
He saw a lot of wary faces along the way. Not worried, not frightened, just… cautious. Be a whole different story if subways and bridges and tunnels started blowing up.
Which was why he was headed to Gia's. It was early, yeah, but he wanted to be with her and Vicks if bombs went off.
2
Jack had an idea as he watched Gia zip up Vicky's blue winter coat before taking her to wait for the school bus.
"Hey, why don't we give Vicky the day off and the three of us go out for breakfast?"
Vicky's blue eyes lit. "Yeah! Pancakes!"
Gia didn't look up as she wrapped a red-and-white striped scarf around her daughter's neck.
"Skip school? We need an occasion for that."
"How about my last day in town for a while?"
Now she looked up at him. "You mean…?"
He hadn't had a chance to tell her yet; had planned to as soon as Vicky was gone, but the thought of Vicky on a bus this morning gave him a crawly feeling in his gut. He didn't want either of them out of his sight.
He nodded. "Abe says everything is ready."
Her face fell. "Oh."
"I thought you'd be happy."
"I did too."
"Where you going, Jack?" Vicky looked worried. "To Shangri-la like you said?"
Jack had told her that last month when he'd thought he was going somewhere with no road back. This time it was to a boat slip in a Fort Lauderdale marina. He planned to stop by Abe's later this morning for the exact address.
"This is a lot closer, Vicks. Florida. And it's not for long. Less than a week."
She grinned and jumped up and down. "Can I go? Can we all go to Disney World?"
"Maybe in the spring," Gia said as Jack helped her rise to standing.
"But I wanna go now! It's hot all the time there, isn't it? I can go swimming!"
Jack wondered how an offer for breakfast had turned into a trip to Disney World. Things happened so fast with kids.
"How about breakfast first?" He looked at Gia. "She gets straight A's, so one day of hooky won't matter. Please?"
Gia shrugged. "Why not? We'll make it a family breakfast." She patted her swelling tummy. "All four of us."
"Great. Where?"
"How about Kosher Nosh?"
"Again?"
She patted her tummy again. "Baby wants lox."
Though something of a vegetarian—she'd eat eggs—Gia had added fish to her diet during the pregnancy.
"Then Kosher Nosh it is."
The small deli-restaurant up on Second Avenue was only a few blocks away, so they walked.
"I still don't get this kosher thing," Jack said as they ambled west on 58th. "How'd this happen?"
She shrugged and lapsed into Abe's accent. "You want I should explain taste? I'm talking apricot ruggalach, poppy-seed twists, onion bialys. What's not to like?"
Jack laughed. "Hey, that's good. You could move to Boro Park. The weird thing is, Abe was raised in an orthodox home and he won't touch the stuff."
Gia gave him a dubious look. "You mean there's something Abe won't eat?"
"That's what he says."
"So if I put a cheese blintz in front of him he wouldn't eat it?"