manhandled the cases, Felix saw the silicone that plugged the holes in the power unit where the German bullet had gone through. He thought to himself that the repairs made on
Felix and Salih climbed down to help Mohr, then Meltzer went down partway. Like this, Felix could see his alleged foreman standing above, in a rectangle of tree-shaded daylight, with torso exposed, watching for any problems at street level. Meltzer tried to appear as matter-of-fact as he could, not furtive. He’d be the team’s liaison with any locals, and while underground Felix needed someone on the ladder to be surveillance and verbal communications relay for the surface element of the group.
The maintenance space itself, beneath the manhole, was maybe four times the size of the three-foot-by-six- foot entry hole. Felix found a light switch, flicked it, and weak bulbs came on, leaving the crowded and dank space in semi-shadow. Thick cables emerged from the concrete wall in a side of the prefabricated chamber, entered a floor-mounted unit that Mohr said was a fiber-optic signal amplifier, and then the cables disappeared into the wall on the opposite side. Thinner cables ran from junction boxes to the amplifier and through the other sides of the chamber. There were old spiderwebs in the corners by the low ceiling that supported the street. Mohr, tallest, brushed the top of his hard hat against the roof when he stood up straight.
Mohr crouched and opened the modules with help from Salih. He removed neat wire coils and furiously started to hook together his gear, then plugged a cord from the power unit into a 220-volt utility socket in the chamber wall. Lips pursed, very tense, Mohr pressed buttons on the modules, starting the first complete, all-up test allowed by a protective Captain Fuller since the damage in Istanbul. The modules began to hum and whine. Indicators glowed, green and amber. “All self-check correctly.”
Felix thought he might feel something being so close to the quantum-entanglement process.
The next step would be to tap into the Israeli trunk cable.
Meltzer glanced down the ladder and said that meant “What is this?” He left the hole. Felix heard him speak in Hebrew, to a person who answered sternly, unsatisfied.
Felix feared that the inevitable confrontation with authorities had struck much sooner than he’d hoped. “Keep working,” he said to Mohr. Felix climbed the narrow ladder. He smiled, which was the only thing he could do under the circumstances. Right there was an Israeli policeman, on foot patrol. He was thirtyish, muscular, and had a swarthy complexion with unreadable predator’s eyes. His body posture told Felix enough. The man kept his fingers poised by the butt of a hefty pistol in his belt holster. His radio crackled, a staticky voice, then was silent, pregnantly.
“He’s asked to see our work papers and IDs,” Meltzer stated to Felix in English, deadpan. “I’ve explained that I’m an American engineer helping on cable-system upkeep since everybody else is in the army, and you lead the work gang assisting me.”
“What are you wearing?” The cop fingered Meltzer’s orange life vest.
“For emergencies. Flash floods, in sewers…”
“I want to see your passport.”
Something had to be done, and Meltzer waited for a SEAL to do it. Chief Costa was standing behind the cop. Costa sneaked in a hand sign asking Felix if he should knock the guy out.
The policeman’s free hand began to reach for his radio mike. Felix envisioned the entire scheme falling to pieces, with them all arrested for sabotage. Costa couldn’t attack the cop in broad daylight, in the middle of the street. Pedestrians were glancing too attentively as it was.
Felix counted on the cop not wanting to swamp his headquarters with yet another false alarm about what could be perfectly legitimate newcomers to the area. Felix faked a noisy sneeze, then begged pardon in Portuguese — a prearranged signal. The enlisted SEALs continued directing the sparse road traffic, but they moved subtly to block the manhole from the view of the nearest civilians on the sidewalks beyond parked cars. Felix gestured for the cop to approach him. Costa backed off. The policeman walked nearer, touching his pistol. His expression was opaque, hard. He unsnapped the nylon strip holding the weapon snug in its holster; he was preparing to draw.
Felix held up a hand to the policeman as if to mean, Please wait a moment. “I bring you all the documents. They’re with our things in the hole. Okay?” He hammed up hesitant English, in his thickest Portuguese accent, displaying his sweetest smile.
Felix climbed down before the cop could object. Inside the maintenance space he whispered urgently to Salih. “Your turn. Take my place. Charm the guy and lure him in real close.”
“Plan B?”
Felix nodded curtly. The next few seconds were critical. “Keep working,” he hissed to Mohr.
Salih stood on the ladder and spoke in gabby Turkish, trying to convey to the cop that he was a foreign guest-worker technician; he said “Turk Telecom” repeatedly, but that was all Felix could understand. The idea in this contingency — at least as briefed in the hectic mission rehearsals — was to try to puzzle a cop just enough, by a seemingly innocent barrage of different languages and people going in and out of the manhole. This mental sleight of hand, a jack-in-the-box show, was a long shot, and improvising under pressure would be key. From the shadows, peering up, Felix saw the cop look into the manhole, past Meltzer and Salih to where Mohr fiddled with his modules.
Felix smoothly reached and grabbed the policeman’s ankles and yanked him past Salih and into the opening. The cop yelped and tumbled through feet first; Felix grunted with effort as he and Salih caught him. Felix chopped him in the side of the neck with the edge of his palm, and lowered the stunned policeman to the floor. He barely fit, taking up most of the free floor space.
“You all right?” Meltzer yelled into the manhole. He pretended to wait for the policeman to answer. “Yes?” Meltzer said. “Good… Here’s your hat.” He held the hat below the lip of the manhole, then let it go; it dropped. This pantomime was supposed to make locals think the policeman had been clumsy following Felix into the manhole, and was safely inside examining documents. Meanwhile, Felix had grabbed a roll of duct tape from Mohr’s tool kit. He swiftly bound and gagged the cop before the man could regain his senses. He tugged the pistol from its holster and placed it on top of the waist-high amplifier: a newly acquired firearm, a possible asset for his team, kept in reserve. Felix would use it only as a last resort. He held his breath, listening for hints of alarm from above. Salih went up to check.
Felix rubbed a painfully bruised shoulder.
Mohr looked at him. “Wonderful. Now what?”
“Keep working. How much more time do you need?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
The cop, wedged beside the amplifier cabinet, fought against the tape. “Relax,” Felix mumbled. “Be quiet and we won’t hurt you.” The Israeli glared and fought harder. Felix raised a hand, threatening another karate chop. The policeman levered his bound legs, fast, and almost clobbered Felix on the chin. He ducked under the man’s flailing heels and dealt him another, much sharper blow to the side of the neck as he tried to bodily smash Mohr’s equipment. The Israeli slumped, in a stupor. Felix removed his gear belt, tossing it out of reach.
“What are you going to do with him?” Mohr asked as he applied his tools to one of the fiber-optic cables.
“Leave him here,” Felix said, securing the cop’s feet to one drainpipe and his upper arms to another with lots more duct tape.
“And no one will notice that he went in, but didn’t come out even after we finish?”
“Passersby who saw him go down won’t be around to not see him climb back up. They’ll have passed by.”
“And people in offices? They won’t have passed by.”
Mohr peered at whatever he was doing, frowning. “You already said three times to keep working.”
The policeman’s radio crackled again. Something about the tone of the voice made Felix wary. He stuck his head out to where the others were making sure no one drove into the manhole. He caught Meltzer’s eye; Meltzer came inside.
