'Stan Thornton, ' Jack said.
'Right, ' Laurie said. 'That was a disturbing lecture.' A short period of silence ensued. The two people felt confident enough to adjust their weight. They were both leaning against the concrete foundation wall and hadn't moved a muscle since the PAA's arrival.
'Oh, God! ' Laurie exclaimed, breaking the lull. She shuddered again.
'I can't believe we're having this relatively normal conversation locked in this dark, tiny dungeon knowing what's going to happen tomorrow in the Jacob Javits Federal Building. I wish to hell I'd brought my phone in here with us.' Laurie had left her purse locked in the glove compartment of Warren's car, believing that carrying it would have made her appear unprofessional.
'That would have simplified things, ' Jack agreed. 'But I think Yuri would have taken it away if you'd had it. He seemed to know what he was doing. I've got a tiny flashlight on my key chain. I'm going to turn it on.'
'Please do, ' Laurie said.
The meager cone of light barely lit up a corner of the room. Laurie's troubled face came into view. She was hugging herself as if to ward off the cold.
'Are you all right? ' Jack asked now that he could see her anguish.
'I'm hanging in, ' Laurie said.
Jack moved the small beam around the room. He stopped on the bottles of distilled water and moved them to a convenient location where they'd be able to find them easily later in the dark. 'We might need these, ' Jack said. 'I don't like to be pessimistic, but we could be in here for some time.'
'That's a happy thought, ' Laurie said. She laughed mirthlessly.
The light played against the door. Since the door opened out, the hinges were on the other side. Jack felt around the door frame.
'Do you think it is okay for us to make noise? ' Jack asked.
'If the neighbors might hear, we should make as much noise as possible, ' Laurie said.
'I was thinking about the People's Aryan Army, ' Jack said.
'I think they're long gone, ' Laurie said. 'They got what they came here for, and they're probably busy with tomorrow's plans to assault lower Manhattan.'
'You're probably right, ' Jack said. 'There certainly was no reason for them to be suspicious we were here.' Using the heel of his hand Jack pounded the jamb around the door, probing for any sign of weakness. Unfortunately, it was all very solid.
He put his shoulder to the door, backed up a pace, and then rammed it.
He did it several times, each time upping the force with which he hit.
The door didn't budge.
'So much for the door, ' he said. He turned the light to shine against the whitewashed concrete walls.
He tapped them lightly with his knuckles in various locations, searching for evidence of deterioration.
The walls were sound.
'I'm surprised this house has this kind of solid foundation, ' Jack said. 'Looking at it from outside, it appears so flimsy.'
'What about the ceiling? ' Laurie asked.
Jack shined the light up between the joists. Almost immediately the tiny flashlight began to dim.
'Uh oh, ' Jack said. 'I'm afraid we're about to be plunged back into darkness.' No sooner had he said that than the light brightened for a moment and then rapidly dimmed againt A minute later it went out altogether.
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 21
9:15 A. M. Mike Compisano let his pale blue eyes rise up the face of the imposing forty-two-story Jacob Javits Federal Building. Its immensity intimidated him, as did the power of the authority it embodied. At the same time, its authority angered him.
Mike had become a skinhead because of the rage he felt as a member of a society that had left him behind like so much flotsam in the wake of a speeding ocean liner. From his perspective, the African-Americans, Hispanics, and Asians he'd been with in high school had more opportunity than he had as a true American thanks to affirmative action and a bunch of other screwy programs. And as Curt had pointed out to him, it was the government the federal building represented that made it all possible.
Unconsciously, Mike's hand slipped into the pocket of his baggy trousers. He fingered the smoke bomb he was to set off in the vent.
He understood in a way he didn't completely comprehend that he was about to play a critical role in striking back at the people who had robbed him of a future.
Mike eyed the bureaucrats rushing past him to enter the building.
They were the ones responsible for the mess the country was in. He would have preferred to stop one and smash his arrogant face had not Curt warned him not to make a scene.
Mike checked his watch. Finally it was nine-fifteen. He'd been standing in front of the building since eight- forty-five, trying to keep warm. He was dressed in the only suit and tie he had. He'd tried to brush his short blond hair to the side and make it lie flat, but it had refused to cooperate. It was standing up like a bristle brush.
Mike took a breath and started off. He was nervous and his heart was beating fast. He wanted so much to succeed, and was afraid something would go wrong.
The first challenge was security. Mike lined up and passed through the metal detector. To his chagrin it sounded.
'What'cha got, sonny? ' one of the uniformed security men asked.
Mike nervously dug a hand in his pocket. He came up with a short, stubby screwdriver. He was worried a coin wouldn't work on the vent.
'So, you're planning on doing a little screwing today, huh, ' the man said with a chuckle.
Mike nodded. He was directed to come through the metal detector again without the screwdriver. There was no signal.
'Good luck, ' the security guard said. He handed the tool back to Mike.
Relieved at not being asked any questions about where he was going, Mike took the elevator to the third floor. As he disembarked he could hear the noise and feel the vibration of the machinery. He walked down the hall as Curt had directed, heading straight for a men's room. It was exactly where Curt had said it would be. Mike entered, according to plan.
Unfortunately, the last booth was occupied. Mike had to bide his time.
He washed his hands for lack of anything else to do and waited.
Finally the man came out. He eyed Mike briefly before washing his hands and exiting.
Mike went into the stall and closed and locked the door. The vent was just above his head. With the screwdriver he got the cover off without difficulty. Standing on the toilet he could look into the duct. It went straight in for about three feet and then angled off.
As instructed, Mike took out the smoke bomb. He lit a match and then touched it to the wick. It caught immediately. With a sideward flick of the wrist, he tossed the bomb into the vent. It ended up coming to rest at the point the duct angled off. Mike could see that it was already putting out smoke, a lot of smoke.
After replacing the vent, Mike left the stall and returned to the hallway. Back at the elevator he pushed the button and waited. It took only a moment to get down to the ground floor. Just as he was exiting the elevator, the building's fire alarm sounded along with a recorded announcement played over and over, everyone should leave the building via the nearest stairway.
Enjoying a sense of accomplishment, Mike went out the main entrance along with a handful of other people. Those trying to enter were told they'd have to wait until the alarm was investigated.
In the plaza directly in front of the building, a congregation began to form. Cigarettes were lit and strangers began to converse. As the minutes passed, the group grew in size as people continued to stream from the exit. Mike joined the burgeoning crowd but kept to the street-side periphery.
Within five minutes approaching sirens began to sound. A few moments later two fire trucks rounded the near corner and quickly pulled to the curb directly in front of the building. The first truck had 'FDNY
Engine 7' stenciled in gold letters on its side.
Mike looked at his watch. It was 9, 29. Glancing back at the lead fire truck, he saw Curt emerge from the passenger side of the front seat. He was dressed in full turn-out gear, which included his combination Nomex and
