Iron Orchid

TWENTY

TEDDY SPENT THE DAY at home, resting after his Herculean efforts to make and deliver the bomb, and flipping from channel to channel on TV, watching the reports that came in. Before dinner, he called Irene on her secret cell phone.

“Yes?”

“It’s Mike. Are you indoors?”

“Yes.”

“Walk out into your garden before you speak again.”

There was a thirty-second pause, then she came back on the line. “I’m outside.”

“Have you watched the TV reports?”

“Yes, and there’s talk of nothing else at the office.”

“I succeeded beyond my dreams, let me tell you. I think there may already have been explosives in the house, and my device set them off.”

“That’s what they figure at the office, too. There’s something else.”

“What?”

“They think they know who did it.”

“Are they right?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I expected they would figure it out.”

“They’re changing all the entry codes for the computer databases,” she said. “It won’t be possible to call in and download without them.”

“Can you get them for me?”

“I think so; it may take me a few days.”

“Be careful. Don’t put yourself at risk.”

“It’s worth a risk, if you can keep doing this sort of thing. Can you imagine the mess if those people had been able to pull off what they were planning?”

“I’m glad to have been able to stop them, but it’s equally important to me that you not be found out. Please respect my wishes in that regard.”

“Oh, all right. I’ll be careful.”

“I’ll check in with you before or after work in a day or two, to see if you’ve made any progress.”

“Okay. I’ll do the best I can.”

“It was good talking to you. Goodbye.” He hung up. Any doubts he may have had about whether they were onto him had now been resolved. “Okay,” he said aloud, “the game is on.”

HOLLY PASSED THE FRONT of the building she had been looking for in the east Forties, turned into the steep ramp leading down to the garage and was stopped by what appeared to be a heavy steel door. There was an intercom box with a keypad and a bell button outside her window, so she rolled it down and pressed the button.

“State your name,” a metallic-sounding voice said.

“Holly Barker.”

“Are you alone?”

“No, Sally Liu is with me, and my dog, Daisy.”

“Read aloud the last four digits of your personal serial numbers; they’re on the back of your I.D. cards.”

Both women got out their cards, and Holly read the numbers.

“Proceed into the garage. You’ll be met and directed to a parking space. Step out of the car with your hands away from your body and stand still.” The steel door rolled up, and another, steel mesh door behind that rolled up, too.

Holly drove slowly into the garage and saw two men waving her into a parking space. She and Sally got out of the car and the two men searched them with electronic wands and took their firearms. “These will be returned to you upstairs,” one of the men said, “and your luggage will be delivered to your rooms. Please take the elevator to the lobby and report to the man at the desk.”

Holly, Sally and Daisy rode up two floors in the elevator and got out. They were in what appeared to be the lobby of an apartment building. Ahead of them in the marble-lined lobby was a reception desk, and two men in doormen’s uniforms were behind the chest-high counter.

“Good afternoon,” one of the men said. “Ms. Barker and Ms. Liu and, I believe, Daisy?”

“That’s right,” Holly said.

The man placed a clipboard on the counter. “Please sign in.”

Holly and Sally signed and noted the time of their arrival.

The man handed them keys. “Your rooms are on the sixth floor, and your luggage and weapons will be delivered there shortly, after your bags have been searched. There will be a meeting in the twelfth-floor conference room at five p.m. Please do not leave the building before that time.”

“I’ll need to take my dog outside for a couple of minutes,” Holly said.

“Very well, but stay within a hundred feet of the building and within sight of the doorman.”

They took the elevator to the sixth floor, which was like that of an ordinary apartment building, and found their rooms next door to each other. Holly’s room was a small studio apartment. She had a bedroom with a sitting area, a kitchenette and a bathroom with a shower. It was much like a medium-priced hotel room. The windows looked out onto Second Avenue, and she was impressed that she heard zero traffic noise.

She took Daisy downstairs and allowed her to relieve herself near the building, and when she came back, her bags had been delivered and her weapons were on the bed. She unpacked, then switched on the TV and watched reports of the bombing on the news channels until five o’clock. Then she collected Sally, and they rode up to the twelfth floor and were directed to the conference room, which contained a large table and two dozen chairs. The other three members of their team were there, and a moment later, looking tired, Lance Cabot walked into the room.

“Please be seated,” he said, “and we’ll begin the briefing.”