“Morning,” he said, showing his I.D. card, which was hanging around his neck on a beaded chain. “I’m Morrison; I’m your regular guy’s supervisor, and I want to take a look around, see what kind of job he’s doing.”
“Oh, he’s a good man,” the superintendent said. “He’s really put us through the ringer around here.”
“I’m sure he has, but I still have to do my job.”
“I’ll come with you,” the man said.
“Not necessary,” Teddy said, holding up a hand. “I’d rather do it alone.”
“Whatever you say; the elevator is right over there.” He nodded toward the construction lift. “Oh, by the way, we’ve got a homeless guy who’s made himself a little hutch in the basement of the building. I know it’s against code, but I haven’t had the heart to throw him out so close to Christmas.”
“I’ll leave it out of my report.” Teddy left the shack and walked over to the elevator. He rode up three stories, looking through the grillwork toward the U.N. Plaza apartment building. He stopped on the third floor. The angle was perfect.
The floor was empty of workers, since they were hanging steel on the higher floors, so Teddy didn’t have to shoo anybody away. He walked around the third floor looking for options. It wasn’t a very big building-ten or twelve stories-and fairly narrow. Immediately next door, on the side of the building opposite from First Avenue, was an empty lot where steel, lumber and other building materials had been stored. Teddy placed his two bombs at the corners of that side of the floor, then armed them. All he had to do now was to press the button on the garage-door opener. He checked his escape route again and found it satisfactory, then took a look at the box that housed the structure alarm.
He glanced at his watch: twenty minutes to go, if ben Saud and his security team were on time. He took the parts of his sniper rifle from his inside coat pockets and assembled it carefully, checking everything as he went. He inserted a full magazine, then leaned against a steel beam and sighted down to the street. The distance was right, about a hundred yards; his only correction would be for his height above the target. Since his position was elevated, the tendency would be to shoot high, and he would have to correct for that on the fly. Fortunately, he had six rounds, plus two more magazines in his pocket.
Ten minutes to go. Teddy set down the rifle and began doing stretching exercises. He hadn’t tried this for a while, and he was going to have to be limber to make it work. He repeatedly stretched the thigh muscles of his left leg, pulling his foot higher and higher to the rear. Finally, satisfied, he picked up the little rifle and began sighting through the scope again.
At one minute before the stroke of nine, the first of the security detail left the U.N. Plaza building and did a quick survey of the sidewalk to the U.N. Headquarters building. They signaled the rest of the party, and the group left the apartment building, with ben Saud at their center, dressed in a business suit but wearing an Arab headdress.
As they walked quickly toward U.N. Headquarters, Teddy checked through the scope and suddenly realized that the man in the Arab headdress was not ben Saud but a decoy. Ben Saud was three paces behind him, between two security guards. Good camouflage, Teddy thought as he sighted on the man’s Adam’s apple.
FIFTY-SIX
HOLLY WAS RIDING DOWN Second Avenue in a car with Lance at the wheel, and traffic was very bad.
“There must be an accident or some construction a few blocks ahead,” she said.
“Well, we’re stuck with Second Avenue, so we’re just going to have to ride it out,” Lance replied. He held up his cell phone and used it in the walkie-talkie mode. “This is Cabot. Has anybody made it to U.N. Plaza yet?”
“It’s Martin,” a woman’s voice said. “Three of us have got it staked. I hope more are on the way.”
“Everybody is on the way,” Lance said. “Be as unobtrusive as possible; we don’t want him to know we’re there, if we can help it.”
“Roger.”
Lance closed the cell phone. They were inching past 48th Street, now.
“Maybe I should walk,” Holly said.
“No, I checked out the pedestrians; we’re doing better than they are.”
“God, I hate just sitting here.”
“So do I.”
Traffic suddenly sped up, for no apparent reason, and they were moving at thirty miles an hour, keeping up with the changing lights.
“Drop me here,” Holly said.
“Right. I’m going to cross to First Avenue at the next street. I’ll see you there.”
Holly hopped out of the car.
TEDDY SQUEEZED OFF a round, and ben Saud’s head erupted, spraying everyone around him with blood and gore. Security men were throwing themselves across his body, too late. There would not be an opportunity for a second shot, but one was not needed. He dropped his beautiful little rifle onto the floor; he wanted them to find it.
Teddy walked quickly to a red metal box fixed to a beam and broke the glass with his elbow. An alarm began to sound and a mechanical voice began to repeat. “Structural failure; abandon the structure, abandon the structure.” He could hear people shouting on the higher floors.
Teddy quickly headed for his escape route. He had spotted this on his earlier visit to the building: it was an aluminum tube about three feet in diameter that was fixed to the side of the building, so that construction debris could be tossed into it. Teddy looked up the tube to be sure nothing was coming, then he jumped into it and began to slide down.
The tube made two 360-degree turns, then spat Teddy out into the Dumpster at curbside, creating a cloud of dust. He beat at his clothes for a moment, then collected the crutches he had placed in the corner of the Dumpster, and looked up and down the street. On First Avenue, all hell had broken loose, but the block he was in was oddly quiet.
Teddy jumped out of the Dumpster, and, keeping it between himself and First Avenue, he reached down, grabbed his left foot and pulled it up behind him, sticking his toe through the loop of shock cord hanging there. He dusted himself off again, squared away his hat, picked up the crutches and began swinging slowly toward Second Avenue, picking up a rhythm and making good progress. Then, at the end of the block, on Second Avenue, a woman got out of a car and began walking quickly toward him. She looked oddly familiar.
HOLLY WAS ALREADY out of the car when she saw the commotion at the other end of the block, on Second Avenue. This was not good, she thought; she began walking quickly up the block. The only person between her and First Avenue was an elderly, one-legged man on crutches, making his way toward her.
TEDDY RECOGNIZED HOLLY BARKER, and he was relieved to see that she was looking not at him but past him, toward the action on First Avenue. She had begun to run, and he continued toward her. It occurred to him that she would run past the building, so he had no more time. He stopped, reached into his left coat pocket and pressed the button on the garage-door opener. The two explosions went off simultaneously.
HOLLY STOPPED IN HER TRACKS and gaped at the sight of the steel skeleton ahead of her collapsing slowly and noisily into the vacant lot next door. The old man on crutches stopped, looked over his shoulder at the noise, then continued more quickly. Good idea, she thought; get the hell out of here. She stood and watched the building, waiting for the danger to be over so she could proceed. The old man continued past her, and she looked into his face for a moment.
Sweat was streaming down it; he must have been frightened by the collapse of the building. “Are you all right, sir?” she asked.
“YES, TANK YOU,” Teddy replied, using a vague mittel European accent. “Vot hoppen?”
“I don’t know,” she said, truthfully.