“This is awesome,” Howard says.
Unlike me, he is completely comfortable with the controller, the internal commands, the ways of maneuvering the character through the game. It’s like he’s fluent in a second language, seamlessly adapting himself to this world with a few keystrokes.
“There we go,” he says. “Now I’m rolling.”
He races through the main square in the game, somehow gaining access to the house and making his way to safety without getting slaughtered by the ATF.
Within seconds, the first scenario is over, Howard is triumphant, and Daniel X’s character stats have improved considerably.
“That wasn’t too bad,” Howard says. “On to the next level.”
He cracks his neck once, then he’s back in.
For the next twenty minutes, Howard plays as fast as he can as I watch what amounts to a gamer’s tour through the philosophy underlying Camp Liberty. I see defensive strategies, offensive strategies, various means of attacking infrastructure out in the world. One of the scenarios is divided into multiple sections, part of which takes place inside an artificial World Wide Web where the Daniel X character is transformed into a digital packet that Howard has to navigate through various international servers undetected, until at last he can breach the firewall for a large commercial bank.
I watch it all with Lee in mind, comparing what I see to what I believe I know about him, his desire for attention, his need to better his father.
Eventually Howard arrives at the fifth scenario:
Something about the name. It feels like it would be attractive to Lee. I perk up as Howard starts the scenario.
The game map opens up. It’s an external setting, a series of tall buildings crowded together, a downtown cityscape of some kind.
Howard bites his lip again, studying it as I watch over his shoulder.
“Where does this one take place?” he says. “Let’s see…”
He races through the area in some kind of vehicle.
“Stop the car, Howard.”
“I’m not supposed to stop,” he says. “See the GPS on the dashboard?”
“Just stop it.”
He screeches to a halt on the side of the road.
“Get out and walk around for a second, please.”
Howard opens the door of the truck onscreen. He gets out and walks a few steps through the city street. The buildings cast long shadows across the pavement from west to east.
It’s sunset.
“Do me a favor. Turn around and look at the car.”
His character turns. It’s not a car at all. It’s a white van. NORTHEAST ELECTRIC is stenciled on the side.
“This is the one,” I say. “I can sense it.”
“Where does it take place?”
Howard uses the character to scan the area, moving to a corner where he can get a better view.
I look at the buildings, the configuration of the downtown area. One of the buildings looks familiar to me. I run it through a database of buildings in my head.
“The Prudential Tower,” I say.
“It’s Boston,” Howard says.
“What are they doing in Boston?”
Howard puts the game controller on the table. He leans back, rubbing his eyes.
“I’m trying to remember something,” he says. “Something that’s happening in Boston this week.”
I think back to my time at the mall yesterday. I sat in Barnes & Noble reading magazines, catching up on the news. I passed a rack of newspapers on my way out, glancing at them as I walked by.
One of them was a Boston Globe.
I play the scene over in my mind, trying to remember the headline that I saw.
Suddenly it clicks.
“The new JFK Federal Building,” I say. “It’s opening today.”
CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT
IT WAS MEANT AS A SYMBOL OF STRENGTH.
A redesigned plaza built around the JFK Federal Building in Government Center downtown. A public park, a tribute to those lost, a new hope for the city.
That is where I’ll find Lee.
I drive Howard back to the Manchester Holiday Inn. He remains silent on the way, lost in thought. It doesn’t take long before I pull into the parking lot.
“We have to stop them,” Howard says.
“I have to,” I say.
“I want to come with you.”
“You’ve already done your part. More than your part.”
He looks at me uncertainly.
“I want you to pack everything and get out of here. Don’t go to New York right away. You’ll have to pass through Boston and it’s too dangerous. Take a train west to Albany or anywhere else you want to go. You can go home in a week or so.”
“How will I know that you’re okay?”
“I’ll call you.”
“Okay,” he says. “Meanwhile I’ll work on the stuff we talked about. The stuff about your father.”
“Drop that for now. Just get yourself to safety. We can talk about the father stuff later. Do you understand me?”
He nods.
“Thanks, Daniel.”
“Hey, you’re the one who saved me from a torture chair, remember?”
He reaches across the seat and hugs me. I let him to do it. Maybe I even hug him back a little.
He opens the truck door, then he pauses before getting out.
“The next time I see you, you’ll have a different name,” he says.
“That’s right.”
“But it will still be you.”
“It will.”
“And you’ll remember me?”
“I promise.”
“Be safe,” he says, and he gets out of the truck.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE
IT’S A STRAIGHT SHOT TO BOSTON.
I take 93 south the whole way, maxing out my speed, slowing only to avoid police traps. I make good time. It’s early evening when I arrive, and downtown Boston is emptying out with the last of the day’s business rush.
I move in the opposite direction as most of the traffic, heading into downtown at this late hour and making my way toward the new and improved JFK Building.
I’m thinking about what I might find there.
Any federal structure built since 9/11 is going to include blast-proof doors, reinforced steel, and exterior barricades. It’s not as if a group of white panel vans is going to be able to drive up and park next to the building. Whatever Lee is planning, he’s going to have to do it from the inside.
What’s more, bombing a federal building would be news, but sadly, it wouldn’t be original.
I try to get into Lee’s head.
An angry boy, out to prove himself to his father and the world.
The Attack by Fire.
He must be aiming bigger. I can’t put it together yet, so I head for the federal building and hope I will figure it out on the fly.
Traffic is cordoned off for several blocks around the plaza where the federal building is, so I have to park the truck and go the rest of the way on foot. I can see the building looming in front of me, forty stories of steel and glass rising above the Boston skyline.
It is lit up for its opening, the lights burning bright to the very top, where it is capped by red, white, and blue tracer lights. From the ground, giant spotlights are aimed up the sides of the building, framing it in still more light.
I step out of the truck, and I hear an explosion far off behind me. The sound booms and rolls through the downtown area. I look toward the federal building, but there’s nothing happening there. A minute later, there are multiple explosions from different parts of the city. I see a plume of smoke rising over the skyline from several blocks away. It’s black against the sunset.