“Of course there’s a connection. The tragedy is my wife had to die to make me see it. And now she’s gone, I’m going to use every means at my disposal to make her death count for something.”
“Including your clinics? Using them to acquire your targets?”
“Acquire, monitor, and control. Otherwise how could I be sure I have the correct number of serviceable devices? In the right places? At the right time?”
“Yeah. That would be tough. And the trigger signals. What sends them? A Web server, somewhere?”
“Correct.”
“Is it already set?”
“No. Server activity is kept to a minimum. Everything’s done at the last moment.”
“Isn’t that a bit risky? If it was me I’d want it primed well in advance.”
“Then you’d get caught. The FBI monitors every byte of traffic anyone transmits. You’ve got to keep it invisible, until it’s too late to stop.”
“How do you set it?”
“I log in, over the Net.”
“Remote access? I know about that. It’s a nightmare. What about hackers?”
“Impossible. Only two machines are authorized. Mine, and a backup. Security’s embedded into their software. The server won’t respond to anything else.”
“What if somebody steals one?”
“It wouldn’t help them. The software expires every twenty-four hours. Plus you need an eight-digit access number from my security token, which changes every minute, and a twelve-digit PIN number from two separate Tungsten employees.”
“That’s what you were doing just now? Loading today’s software? Logging on?”
“Right,” he said, checking his watch. “Now. Five minutes to go. Time to arm the system. Do you want to see?”
“No,” I said.
“Well that’s too bad. Stay there. You’re going to watch.”
Taylor slipped the gun into his pocket and fetched his laptop from next door. It was large and heavy with a rubberized outer shell, such as the kind field engineers use. He brought it back, dragging a chair in his other hand, and as he put it down on the dressing table his phone began to ring. He wedged it under his chin so he could open his computer and talk at the same time.
“That was Lesley,” he said, when the call had ended. “There’s a change of plan. We’re not going to her. She’s coming to us. Here.”
“When?” I said.
“Now. All her usual places are too hot, apparently. The NYPD is staking out everything she owns. Someone must have really put the wind up them. She’s fuming. And absolutely paranoid. She’s seeing cops behind every tree and lamppost.”
“Where is she now?”
“Around the corner. Three or four minutes away. I should just about be done when she gets here.”
“Is Tanya with her?”
“Yes. Don’t worry. You’ll be making your fond farewells very soon.”
This changed everything. There would be at least five FBI sedans scattered around outside the hotel, left there by the dead and captured agents. No one would have moved them, yet. Regular people might not realize the significance, but Lesley would spot them in a millisecond. Especially if she was already extra suspicious. Which meant it was no good getting Taylor to call back and warn her about them. She hadn’t known him long enough. She’d just take it as proof of a trap.
I had three or four minutes. That wasn’t enough time. The 320 people in Taylor’s crosshairs would have to take their chances. Those cars were a dead giveaway, and they were there because of me. I had to be in the street outside before Lesley saw them. Otherwise my plan wouldn’t be Tanya’s salvation. It would be her death sentence.
I started to loosen the ties around my wrists.
Taylor ran his finger over the trackpad. The screensaver melted away and a Web page sprang into view. There were two tabs at the top. The one on the left was active. It was labeled MONITOR. The screen was taken up with five dials, like the instruments on a car dashboard. There were four small ones in the corners, and a larger one filling the center. The background to all of them was green, and each one had a needle that pointed to a scale around the edge.
“There,” Taylor said, jabbing his finger toward the central dial. “Three hundred twenty. All devices are in Wi- Fi range. We’re ready.”
Three hundred and twenty devices. He meant 320 people. Soon to be 320 corpses. Three hundred and twenty lives I’d have to sacrifice to rescue Tanya. Those were terms I’d take in a heartbeat, but how would she feel? She had been tortured by one death on her conscience after Morocco. For three years. If three hundred died so I could save her, could she live with herself afterward?
Taylor clicked on the second tab- CONTROL -and a picture of an old-fashioned light switch appeared in place of the dials.
It was in the off position.
I made the decision. I was going now. I’d get down to the street as quickly as I could. But I’d stop Taylor on my way. For Tanya’s sake.
“All we have to do is drag this…” Taylor was saying when I pulled my arms free of the ties and elbowed him in the side of the head, knocking him flying off his chair.
The rabbit guy was the first to react. He ran toward me, trying to wrap his arms around my body. I watched him coming in the mirror. I waited until he was one step away then twisted sideways and drove my right fist deep into his stomach. He doubled over, the momentum carried him forward, and the bridge of his nose slammed straight into the sharp edge of the dressing table.
He went down without another sound.
The other guy had a hand on one of his. 38s. He was too far away to reach, so I scooped up my chair and hurled it at him, across the room. It felt good. I hadn’t done that to anyone since I was at school. And I hadn’t lost my touch. The backrest caught him square in the face and sent him staggering backward long enough for me to move in and smash my left fist into his jaw. The impact spun him around, bouncing him off the bed and onto the floor.
I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. It was Taylor. He was back up, on his knees, going for his computer. That left no time for finesse so I just drove my heel down into the other guy’s throat as I passed him, crushing his larynx and leaving him to choke in silence.
Taylor was kneeling next to the dressing table. He was drawing his left hand away from the computer. I checked the screen. The switch had been dragged down, into the ON position. A row of digits had appeared underneath it, like the display on an old LED watch. They read 00:02:01. Two minutes, one second. And counting.
“Thought you’d like to see it,” Taylor said, pulling my gun out of his pocket. “Now. Turn around. Hands on the wall.”
Lesley would still be at least a block away. I hoped.
“How do you stop it?” I said.
“Right click on the display. Select ‘cancel.’ But that’s not really on your agenda, is it?”
I took a step toward the computer. Taylor raised the gun and aimed at my chest. I took another step. He pulled the trigger. The gun clicked harmlessly. He looked puzzled, and tried again. Twice. There were two more clicks. Then I put my hand flat on the side of his head and shoved, sending him tumbling sideways onto the floor.
I reached the computer and followed Taylor’s instructions to cancel the countdown, but all that happened was another window appeared. It read, WARNING: This action will stop the program from activating the remote field devices at the time you previously specified. Are you sure you wish to cancel?
I clicked Yes.
Another box appeared. Enter Password.
