The two military jets touched down at LaGuardia airport, much to the surprise of observers and the infuriation of those waiting to land as the airspace was cleared for their arrival. Nina and Eddie were quickly ushered to a waiting helicopter, taking a moment to embrace and kiss before boarding. Seretse was waiting inside the cabin. ‘Welcome home,’ he said, shaking their hands.
‘Good to be back,’ Nina replied. ‘Although I really, really need a pee! Four hours strapped into a chair is no fun at all.’
‘Some people pay good money for that,’ Eddie said with a smirk as he took his seat. ‘Any news on Cross?’
Seretse shook his head. ‘Nothing yet.’
Nina fastened her seat belt as the chopper wound up to take-off speed. ‘Are we going to the UN?’
‘No, Brooklyn.’
‘Brooklyn? What the hell’s in Brooklyn?’
‘A surprising amount,’ Seretse replied with a faint smile. ‘I know that as a lifelong resident of Manhattan, you may find that difficult to comprehend.’
She huffed. ‘Funny man.’
‘But the regional headquarters of the Secret Service are located there,’ the diplomat went on, ‘and they are in charge of security outside the United Nations complex, so that is where we are going. Hopefully you will be able to provide them with useful information.’
‘Let’s hope.’ She looked out of the window. The helicopter cleared the boundary of LaGuardia, heading south-west across the relatively low-rise sprawl of Queens towards Brooklyn. The towers of Manhattan rose on the far side of the East River. Her home; but it was again under threat.
The flight did not take long. The chopper touched down in Brooklyn Heights’ Columbus Park, a convoy of black SUVs waiting to whisk them to the Secret Service offices a short distance away on Adams Street. Seretse took a phone call as they arrived. ‘Air Force One has just landed at JFK,’ he told Eddie and Nina as they went inside. ‘In light of the threat, President Cole will be taken to the United Nations by helicopter rather than in a motorcade.’
‘That’s good,’ said Nina, relieved.
‘A number of the world leaders are travelling there by road, though,’ he continued, dampening her mood. ‘They are still at risk.’
Eddie shook his head. ‘If Cross hates the UN so much, he’ll make the attack when they’re all there. They’ll be like his Pokémon — gotta catch ’em all.’ Seretse and Nina exchanged puzzled looks. ‘Oh, come on. Nina, you’ll have to learn something about pop culture once the baby’s born!’
‘I can’t wait,’ she lied. ‘You’re right, though. He’ll want all the kings of the world to witness the fall of Babylon — and if he can kill them afterwards, so much the better to bring about the apocalypse. But he’ll probably have a hard time getting close enough to do that.’
‘No probably about it,’ said a new voice. A broad-shouldered, harried-looking bald man in his fifties marched to meet the group, the coiled cable behind one ear giving away that he was a member of the Secret Service. ‘Dr Wilde, I’m John Talsorian, USSS special agent in charge of diplomatic security at the General Assembly.’
‘USSS SAIC?’ said Eddie. ‘That’s a lot of esses.’
Talsorian gave him the briefest of dismissive glances. ‘Mr Seretse, good to see you again. If you’ll come to the briefing room?’
‘You sound confident about your security,’ said Nina as they headed through the building.
‘The place is locked down,’ he replied firmly. ‘We were already on high alert even before this threat warning, and now it’s been taken to maximum. Nobody can get within three blocks of the UN without being checked by either the Secret Service or the NYPD. The FDR drive is closed, NYPD river patrol has the East River fully covered, and we’ve got helicopters flying circuits watching all the rooftops. Beyond that, if anything tries to breach the city’s airspace, there are Air National Guard F-16s ready to scramble from Atlantic City; they can intercept in six minutes.’
‘What about submarines?’ Eddie asked him, deadpan. ‘A mini-sub could get into the UN basement through the old fire hydrant pipes. I know, ’cause I was there when it did.’
Talsorian’s expression was now one of outright contempt. ‘Who are you again?’
‘This is my husband, Eddie Chase,’ Nina said. ‘And you should listen to what he has to say — well, most of it. He’s already saved thousands of lives just this morning, so he knows what he’s talking about.’
The Secret Service agent seemed unconvinced, but he said nothing, instead bringing the group into a crowded room. Roughly half its occupants were in conservative dark suits, the others in tactical gear. A pair of large screens mounted on one wall displayed a map of the area around the United Nations complex — and a photograph of Ezekiel Cross. ‘All right, listen up,’ said Talsorian as he stood before the screens, facing his agents. ‘This is Nina Wilde; you may have heard of her, she’s a famous archaeologist, but right now that’s not important. What matters is that she has information about the man we’re looking for. Dr Wilde?’
Nina was taken aback by the brusqueness of his introduction, but the agent was clearly already under pressure, and there was a time factor involved. She regarded the image of Cross, which she estimated was at least ten years old, possibly from his CIA file, before turning to her expectant audience. ‘Okay, I’ll tell you what I know. This man is called Ezekiel Cross; he’s an ex-CIA agent turned religious fundamentalist, who was responsible for the gas attack in Antigua that killed almost a hundred people. He tried and failed to carry out an attack on a much larger scale in Mecca earlier today. He also used a similar attack on the Vatican as a decoy; I believe that his real target is the United Nations.’
Talsorian cleared his throat impatiently. ‘Dr Wilde, my people have already been briefed — we know all this. We need you to tell us something we don’t know. Like: where is he now? How is he planning to make the attack?’
‘I… don’t know,’ she admitted, his tone immediately putting her on the defensive. ‘I can tell you that even though he has associates, at least four other people, I think he’ll try to carry it out personally. He wants to watch Babylon fall, see the Biblical prophecy he’s obsessed with come true—’
The agent interrupted her. ‘You think? Do you know for sure? You’re not a profiler.’
‘No, I’m an archaeologist—’
‘This isn’t ancient history. This is happening right now, and we need concrete information.’
‘The only concrete in here’s inside your skull,’ Eddie snapped.
Talsorian didn’t even look at him, merely pointing in his direction. ‘Remove him.’ A pair of burly men in tactical gear advanced on the Englishman.
Eddie raised a hand in warning. ‘I wouldn’t.’
‘Agent Talsorian,’ said Seretse placatingly. ‘Mr Chase may also have useful information. If you could please hear them out?’
Talsorian scowled, but gestured for the two agents to return to their seats. ‘Okay, then. Let’s have it. What can you tell me about Cross’s associates?’
‘Ah… not much, I’m afraid,’ Nina said. ‘He has a bodyguard, a big guy called Norvin; his pilot, Paxton—’
‘Norvin? Is that a first or last name?’
‘I don’t know. But they’re all American, and I can’t imagine it’s a common name. And there was another man called Hatch, I think.’ She described them as best she could, Eddie adding his own recollections.
‘Got a hit on Paxton,’ said a female agent, tapping on a laptop. The pilot’s photograph flashed up on the big screen beside Cross. ‘Daniel Aldo Paxton, age thirty-nine, ex-USAF, qualified to fly pretty much anything.’
‘That’s him,’ Nina confirmed.
The agent kept typing. ‘Not enough info to narrow down the others.’
‘Is that all you’ve got?’ Talsorian asked Nina. ‘Well, it’s something, I guess. Okay, get Paxton’s picture out there alongside Cross’s, and see if you can find a link between them and those other names. All right, let’s get back to it.’ The agents stood and began to file from the room. ‘Mr Seretse, Dr Wilde… Chase, thanks for your help.’
‘Wait, that’s it?’ said Eddie. ‘That’s all you want from us?’
‘That’s all you’ve got,’ he replied. ‘Unless you’ve any other insights? Some sort of Da Vinci Code thing from the Bible telling us where he’s going to strike?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ Nina told him.
‘That’s what I thought. Okay, I’ve got work to do. Mr Seretse, I’m heading back to the UN — you’re welcome to join me.’
Seretse gave Nina and Eddie an apologetic look before replying. ‘Thank you. That would be most helpful.’ He turned to the couple. ‘I am sorry. After all the effort involved in bringing you back here…’
‘It’s okay, Oswald,’ said Nina. ‘We did what we could.’
Eddie gave Talsorian an annoyed glare as the Secret Service man spoke to the agent with the laptop. ‘Even if some dickheads apparently don’t want our help. So now what do we do?’
‘We could go to the UN and help look for Cross,’ suggested Nina. ‘I know it’s a long shot, but…’
Seretse shook his head. ‘I am afraid that will not be possible. You do not have security clearance. After all,’ he reminded the archaeologist on seeing her surprise, ‘you no longer work for the United Nations.’
‘So there’s nothing else we can do?’ said Eddie.
‘Unfortunately not. Hopefully you have done enough already. You foiled the attack in Mecca, and from the failed attack in Rome realised that Cross’s true target was the UN. That may be enough.’
‘Only if you find him,’ Nina said unhappily.
‘I have to have confidence that we will,’ said the diplomat, drawing in a weary breath, ‘because the alternative is too terrible to contemplate.’ Talsorian called his name. ‘I must go. All I can suggest for now is that you return home. Although I would also suggest taking a route that gives the United Nations as wide a berth as possible. The traffic in Manhattan will be quite appalling.’
‘Don’t suppose we could hitch a lift in your helicopter?’ Eddie asked. ‘Just land in Central Park at the end of our road, nobody’ll mind.’
Seretse smiled. ‘I suspect that would not be the case. Nina, Eddie, goodbye, and thank you for all you have done. I hope that when I next speak to you, I will have good news.’ He shook their hands, then departed with Talsorian and several other Secret Service agents.
‘Bloody idiot,’ Eddie said, glowering after the departing SAIC.
‘I can kinda see his point,’ Nina had to admit. ‘He’s got his hands full trying to protect over a hundred world leaders in one of the busiest cities on the planet, and then we turn up and tell him there’s a new threat, but don’t actually give him anything that could help. I mean, he was right: I don’t know if Norvin was that guy’s first or last name.’
‘Got to be his last name. Who the hell would call their kid Norvin?’
‘You wanted to call ours Arbuthnot,’ she reminded him with a grin.
‘That was if it was a boy. Now I know it’s not… although actually, it would still work.’ He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
‘No it wouldn’t,’ she insisted. ‘Come on. Let’s get out of here.’
That was easier said than done. Even outside Manhattan, the gridlock caused by the closure of roads around the United Nations had worked back through the bridges and tunnels to the island. Traffic was moving at a crawl, or not at all. ‘This is going to take ages,’ Nina sighed, looking out from their cab at the East River below. The driver had taken the Manhattan Bridge, assuring them it would be the quickest route, but they had been forced to a halt only a short way over the crossing.
Eddie peered past her. ‘So they did ground that thing for the summit.’ He pointed at the river’s eastern bank about a mile away. The great twin-humped shape of the advertising airship was now moored at the Brooklyn Navy Yard rather than plying up and down the East River. ‘Harvey told me they would.’
‘Harvey?’
‘You know, the chopper pilot. I got kidnapped just after having a flying lesson with him.’ He indicated the buildings closer along the shoreline. ‘That airship was one of the first things I saw when I escaped — the place they were holding me was just down there. When I went up on to the roof, I saw it landing at the Navy Yard.’
‘It’s a hard landmark to miss,’ said Nina. She returned her gaze to Manhattan, and the unmoving traffic. ‘Maybe we should have stayed in Brooklyn until the roads quieten down. Whatever Oswald might think, I do know the place isn’t entirely uncivilised.’
She looked back at her husband, only to find that he hadn’t heard her joke, instead frowning in puzzlement. ‘What is it?’
‘The guy who tortured me, Irton — he’d been to the Navy Yard, he had a parking receipt or something in his wallet. And when he was talking to Cross… what did he say?’ His forehead scrunched as he dug into his memories. ‘Something about there not being much security on certain days.’
‘What did he mean?’ Nina asked.
‘I dunno. But…’ He stared back at the airship. ‘Cross won’t be able to get near the UN on the ground or by water, at least if that arse from the Secret Service was right about his security. And the air’s covered by the NYPD’ — he indicated a couple of helicopters circling midge-like in the distance — ‘and the National Guard, so anything that tries to get close’ll be shot down. But that airship, I read about it: the whole thing was designed so it can’t be shot down, not easily. It’s massive, and it’s got loads of different compartments for the helium, so even if you blow holes in some of them, it’ll stay in the air. But it can fly at something like sixty miles an hour, so it could reach the UN in a couple of minutes — the National Guard’s planes wouldn’t be able to catch it in time.’
Nina cocked an incredulous eyebrow. ‘You think he might be planning to attack using an airship? Who is he, Count von Zeppelin?’
‘Yeah, I know, it sounds like the ending of A View to a Kill. But if he stole the thing, he could fly right over the UN and drop the angel on it — and nobody would be able to stop him.’
‘The Secret Service did say Paxton could fly practically anything,’ she recalled. ‘Would that include airships?’
‘It’s a big balloon with propellers on it. Can’t be too hard. We should check it out.’
‘Or we could tell the Secret Service to check it.’
‘You think Talsillybugger’d pay any attention to us? It’s just a theory, and a pretty fucking daft one at that. But…’
‘But it’s just insane enough to be true?’ she finished for him. They exchanged looks. ‘Just when I thought it was all over…’
‘We need to hire a fat lady to sing for us,’ Eddie said with a grin. ‘Okay, so how the hell are we going to get off this bridge?’ He checked the road. They were on the upper deck, two narrow Manhattan-bound lanes with concrete barriers hemming them in on both sides, and no sidewalks. Nor was there any easy way to climb down to the walkway on the lower deck. ‘Huh. Might have to rethink this.’
Nina looked ahead. The traffic was still stationary. ‘God knows how long it’ll take us to get across the river. And then we’ve still got to come back the other way.’ She reached for the door handle. ‘We’ll have to do it on foot.’
The driver turned in alarm. ‘Hey, hey! You can’t get out on the bridge.’
‘No, you can’t,’ Eddie added. ‘Seriously! It’s at least a quarter of a mile back to ground level.’
‘It’ll be a lot faster than driving across and then turning around. And you were the one who wanted to check out the airship. If Cross really is planning to use it—’
‘That was just a theory! And like I said, a daft one at that. How often am I right about this stuff?’
‘Way too often. Come on.’ She opened the door and hopped out.
‘No, lady, wait!’ the driver yelled. ‘Get back inside!’
‘Nina— Oh, for Christ’s sake,’ Eddie said in exasperation. He thrust some banknotes through the cab’s pay slot, then slid across the rear seat to follow her.
She had emerged on the roadway’s right, beside one of the barriers. A railing behind it meant that she was in no danger of falling over the edge, but there was very little space between the concrete wall and the oncoming vehicles. ‘Nina, wait!’ he shouted as she hurried towards Brooklyn. She didn’t stop; with a dismayed shake of his head, he ran after her. People in the stationary cars regarded them boggle-eyed as they passed.
He quickly caught up with his limping wife. ‘Are you fucking insane?’
‘I’m pregnant,’ she shot back. ‘If anyone asks, I’ll tell them it’s hormones!’
‘At least let me go in front of you.’ He squeezed past. ‘I’m not having you use the baby as a bumper!’
They crossed the shoreline, descending the bridge’s long ramp until they were finally able to climb over the barrier to a footpath below. ‘You okay?’ asked the Yorkshireman as he helped Nina down.
‘Yeah, just winded,’ she replied.
‘And the baby?’
She gave him a strained grin. ‘She’s survived gunfights, explosions and jumping over cliffs in boats in the past few days. Jogging for a quarter-mile’s the least of what she’s been through.’
‘You’re bloody mad. You know that, don’t you?’
‘Must be why we work so well together.’ Another smile, this time filled with genuine warmth, then she looked eastwards. ‘We’re only a few blocks from the Navy Yard here, aren’t we?’
‘Yeah, but it’s a big place, and the airship’s on the far side,’ Eddie reminded her. ‘We need another cab.’ They followed the path to a road passing beneath the Manhattan Bridge’s lower end, soon spotting a yellow taxi and hailing it. They climbed in and set off for the north gate of the Brooklyn Navy Yard.
From the bridge, the airship had appeared huge; from the ground, it was like a mothership from another world. The conjoined helium envelopes of the Airlander dwarfed even the largest passenger airliners. The mere sight of the gargantuan craft caused Nina a moment of cognitive dissonance, her brain’s gears grinding as they tried to process the existence of something that seemed impossible. ‘Damn, that’s… big,’ was all she could say as their cab pulled up at the gate. There were buildings between her and the airship, but its sheer scale made them appear no more than shoeboxes.
A security guard leaned out of a booth. ‘Where ya goin’?’
‘There,’ Nina said, pointing at the behemoth. ‘We’ve got an appointment.’
The guard didn’t seem interested in her cover story. ‘Yeah, yeah. Take the second right on to Gee Avenue, you can’t miss it.’ The gate rose.
‘Has anyone else been to see it today?’ Eddie asked him.
‘Loadsa people wanna see it,’ he replied with a shrug. ‘Some guys went to the company offices maybe a half-hour ago.’
‘How many guys?’
Another shrug. ‘Four, five? I dunno, I wasn’t really payin’ attention.’
‘Keep up the good work,’ the Englishman told him sarcastically as the cab pulled away and made a right turn.
‘You think it could be Cross?’ said Nina, peering anxiously ahead.
‘Maybe. Or maybe not. A lot of people come here; like he said, it’s kind of a tourist attraction.’
The taxi drove past docks on the river’s edge. Ahead was a low building, and rising behind it, moored on an expanse of open ground, was the vast beetle-like airship, its broad stern towards them. Their driver stopped in the parking lot. ‘You want me to wait?’ he asked.
‘No, that’s okay,’ Nina answered. The couple paid him and got out, then regarded the building. A sign reading SKY SCREEN INC. was affixed to the wall, an arrow directing visitors around to the structure’s other side. They followed it. The airship came into full uninterrupted view, an almost comically small gondola mounted under its centreline seeming as if it were about to be squashed flat beneath the elephantine mass. The whole vessel was so large that one of the roads to the piers beyond had been blocked off to give it room to land. Its flanks were covered with a grid of LEDs that in flight turned it into a colossal Blade Runner-style animated billboard, but today they were dark.
Eddie looked up at the craft. ‘This thing’s not supposed to be flying,’ he said. ‘So why’re the engines going?’
Nina saw that the propellers were slowly turning, diesel engines rumbling. ‘Maintenance?’ she offered, not convinced.
‘Let’s ask.’ They headed cautiously for a door. Eddie opened it, flinching as an electronic bell made a loud beep-boop noise. ‘So much for the element of surprise,’ he muttered before raising his voice. ‘Hello?’
No response for a few seconds, then: ‘Yo! Come on in.’
‘Wait here,’ Eddie told Nina, wary. He entered a reception area. It was empty, but a large photograph behind the desk of the airship at night told him he was in the right place. Another doorway went through to an office area overlooking the airship’s landing pad.
‘Anyone here?’ he said. The office was apparently shared by the airship’s flight and ground crews and those who sold advertising space on the giant craft’s sides, a nest of cubicles surrounded by whiteboards and flip-charts showing sales figures and targets. But there was still no sign of any staff.
He rounded a battered couch, noticing an overturned coffee cup on it. A faint rush of cold air told him that an exterior door had been opened. In the far corner, a fire exit swung shut—
He froze. Poking out from behind one of the cubicle dividers was a foot, a man lying on the floor. There was a dark, glistening stain on the cheap carpet tiles nearby. Eddie instantly knew it wasn’t spilled coffee.
Another door opened, this one behind him—
He dived behind the couch as Washburn burst out of a back room, gun in hand. Bullets punched through the sofa’s back, spewing shredded foam stuffing over him as he scrambled towards a small desk bearing thick ring binders of paperwork.
The scar-faced man skirted the couch after him, seeing the Englishman go underneath the table. He bent lower to take a shot—
Eddie jumped up — bringing the desk with him. He hurled it at the gunman. Washburn fired, but the round hit only wood and paper. An instant later, wood and paper hit him, the table knocking him to the floor and landing on top of him.
The gun was still in his hand. Eddie rushed over and stamped a heel down hard on his wrist. A pained gasp, and the pistol thumped to the carpet. The Yorkshireman snatched it up. Washburn shoved the table away — only to take a bullet to the head from his own weapon.
Shouts from outside, Nina’s voice amongst them. Eddie ran back through the reception area, checking for further enemies before emerging.
His wife had gone.
But he could still hear her. He hurried to the corner of the building and looked across the landing field—
To see Cross dragging the struggling Nina with him as he and Norvin headed for the airship.
The cult leader had a gun to her head, using her as a shield. Eddie whipped up his own weapon, but knew he couldn’t shoot at Cross without risking hitting her. He aimed instead at Norvin, but before he could fire was forced to jerk back as the bodyguard sent several shots at him.
Another man sprinted towards the airship’s cabin. Eddie recognised him: Hatch. He had released the mooring lines, the cables now hanging limply from the bulbous envelope. Paxton was visible at the controls in the gondola.
Norvin fired again, forcing Eddie to retreat further as bullets smacked off the wall. When he looked back around it, Hatch had reached the cabin, Norvin following him aboard. He saw Nina shout, but couldn’t hear her over the noise as the propellers revved. Cross pulled her inside, and the door closed.
Eddie ran into the open, raising his gun. He knew it wouldn’t deflate the airship, but the envelope wasn’t his target. Instead he took aim at one of the engines. There were two pusher propellers mounted on the stern, and he opened up on the nearest. The fibreglass cowling cracked apart.
The gondola’s door slid open again, Cross leaning out — with a sniper rifle.
Eddie immediately abandoned his attack and sprinted for cover. A bullet tore the air barely a foot behind him with a supersonic crack. He threw himself behind a parked van as another shot exploded brickwork in his wake. Before Cross could fire again, he hunched into a tight ball behind the front wheels. The whole vehicle jolted as a third round struck the engine block.
The airship’s propellers grew louder. Eddie looked up to see it pulling away from him. He fired his remaining rounds at the second engine, but this time caused no visible damage, and even with its cowling broken the port engine was still running.
The airship gained altitude, slowly at first but with increasing speed as its forward engine nacelles tilted downwards to provide extra lift. It cleared the landing field, turning north over the East River towards the United Nations.
With Nina trapped aboard.