Payback

133

“If the time they picked the girl up is even close to being right, they may be in Philadelphia already,” the state police captain told Dean as the helicopter became airborne.

The girl had described a long light-colored cargo van, with no windows. An Army surveillance aircraft and a Coast Guard plane normally used for work against drug smugglers recalibrated their search grids and began hunting for the vehicle in and around the city. At the same time, police and National Guard units moved to shut down the roads completely. The alert going out over the police and Homeland Security networks added a description not only of Babin but of a man who was probably General Túcume. The Art Room was supplying several ^*.jpg files, digital photographs that could be shown on computer screens or printed out.

It was after 1:00 a.m. The city loomed in the distance, its well-lit skyline proclaiming that it would survive even this challenge. It had witnessed the birth of democracy more than two hundred years before and withstood the wrath of what was then the greatest army in the world. It would not cower tonight.

“If I were going to blow up Philadelphia,” Dean said to Daniels, “I’d make Congress Hall ground zero. That or the Liberty Bell. We should start searching there.”

“We will,” said the trooper, pushing his headset lower on his head. “They’re in the city by now,” Lia told the helicopter pilot. “We can help the search.”

“Uh, I have orders to get out of the blast area,” said the pilot. “Specifically, Red Sky—”

“Nah, that doesn’t apply to you,” said Karr, leaning forward. “Let’s go.”

“Sir—”

“We’re looking for a light-colored van,” Lia told the pilot, reaching for the controls to the forward-looking infrared radar.