Iron Orchid

FIFTY-FIVE

DINO BACCHETTI WAS ON THE PHONE when his captain came into his office.

“What the hell is this search on Lex?” he demanded.

“The Feds called and needed our help. They’re trying to nail this Teddy Fay guy.”

“What? I thought the guy blew himself up in an airplane.”

“Just between you and me and the Feds, he didn’t. He’s the guy who’s been knocking off people around the U.N. the past few weeks.”

The captain shook his head. “Nobody ever tells me anything.” He left Dino’s office.

Dino continued calling his men. They were down to 65th Street on Lex, now.

TEDDY HAD BEEN UP most of the night putting the final touches on his plan. He had made two bombs with the remainder of his plastic explosives, both wired to be ignited by a garage-door opener, which he tucked into the pocket of his overcoat.

His last item was the finishing of his building inspector’s I.D. The New York Brotherhood of Construction Inspectors website had thoughtfully supplied a facsimile of a real I.D. All he had to do was scan it, put on his makeup, photograph himself, then print and laminate it. It wasn’t perfect, but it would do for what he had in mind.

Finally, he whipped a loop into a length of elastic shock cord, took off his belt and hooked on the shock cord before running the belt through the loops again. He whipped a larger loop in the other end and let it dangle down his back. It would be hidden by his topcoat. He dismantled his little sniper’s rifle and placed the parts in inside pockets of the topcoat, put on a battered felt hat, picked up his luggage-and left the building for the last time, locking the door and tossing the key into the nearest street corner wastebasket.

HOLLY SAT AT HER DESK, bored. They were waiting to hear that Dino Bacchetti’s people had completed their canvas of Lexington Avenue, and all she had to occupy her was the New York Times.

IT WAS 7:30 A.M. as Teddy moved down Lexington, carrying his luggage, a canvas satchel containing the two bombs and wearing a wig, a new nose, muttonchop whiskers and his heavy, black-rimmed glasses. He lugged everything the three blocks to the garage where his RV was stored, stowed his luggage in the rear and began driving downtown. The vehicle now had a valid Florida registration and plates.

HOLLY WALKED INTO Lance’s office just as the phone rang. He picked it up.

“Lance Cabot.”

“It’s Dino; my guys found the workshop. It’s a third-floor studio apartment over a dry cleaners on the west side of Lex between Sixty-third and Sixty-fourth.”

“I’ll get my people over there right away,” Lance said.

“Don’t bother; the man is gone, and my guys got the impression he wasn’t coming back. What made them think that is that they found a very nice drawing of a homemade sniper’s rifle made out of a Walther PPK and some custom-made parts. But they didn’t find the rifle, so he must have taken it with him. They also found some debris left over from making a bomb, and plastic explosive residue was detected on a workbench.”

“Oh, shit,” Lance said.

“If you’ve got any idea who the target is, you’d better get your people on the spot fast,” Dino said.

“Thanks, Dino,” Lance said and hung up. He told Holly and Kerry Smith what the cop had said.

“So who’s the target?” Holly asked.

“We’ve still got the two names we identified earlier.”

“So why don’t I think he’s going after who we think he’s going after?” Holly asked.

Kerry spoke up. “Maybe because he’s always been a step ahead of us?”

“Ben Saud,” Lance said.

“Why do you think so?” Kerry asked.

“Because he’s not on our list, and because Washington wouldn’t let us surveil him.”

“That’s perfect for Teddy,” Holly said. “And I’ll bet you anything he knew we’re not on the guy. I still think he’s got an insider at Langley.”

Lance looked at his watch. “Ben Saud is going to be walking to work from U.N. Plaza in a few minutes, as he does every day. We don’t have time to make a plan, so I’m just going to flood the area with everybody I can lay my hands on, and it’ll be every man for himself.” He picked up the phone and pressed the code that rang everybody’s cell phone, then gave the orders.

TEDDY DROVE DOWN Second Avenue to the Forties and parked the RV in a garage around the corner from his destination. He went into the rear of the vehicle and removed a pair of aluminum crutches, the kind hinged at the elbow, and his satchel containing the bombs. “I’ll only be about an hour,” he told the attendant, “so please don’t bury the vehicle.” He gave the man a twenty to help him remember.

He walked down the street toward the building under construction at the corner of First Avenue. Outside the structure, he stopped, looked around, and placed the crutches in a corner of a large Dumpster, which contained scrap drywall and lumber, then he went looking for the construction superintendent. He found the man alone in a little shed, checking over some blueprints.

“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.