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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.

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