'Copy.'
I walked down to Battery Park, which was about a half mile south of Ground Zero. Battery Park at night is quiet, though not desolate. You get some romantic types who sit and watch the water and look at the Statue of Liberty, or take a ferry ride to Staten Island. Cheap date. Done it.
It was a nice evening, so there were a few people in the park, including the surveillance team couple I'd seen in Central Park, sitting on a bench again, holding hands. I hoped they at least liked each other.
I said into my mic, 'This is not promising.'
Stark replied, 'Maybe it's too early. Let's take a walk on some dark, quiet streets. Then we'll come back here later.'
I liked the way Stark used the plural pronoun as though he was walking. No, I was walking, and half the surveillance team was walking, and the other half was in unmarked vehicles. As for the SWAT team, they were transported to various locations, and they stayed mostly in their unmarked van so they wouldn't scare anyone.
As I walked through the quiet streets of the Financial District, I called Kate to put her mind at ease, and she answered and said, 'I've been waiting for your call. Where are you?'
'Stepping over drunk stockbrokers.'
'Be careful, John.'
'Love you.'
Being married to someone in the business has its advantages. You worry about the other person, but it's informed worrying. And the less said, the better.
I continued the walk through the nearly deserted streets of Lower Manhattan, then back to Battery Park, then back to the Trade Center.
At about midnight, we all agreed that no one was following me, and I found a taxi near 26 Fed and headed home.
On the way, I called Kate's cell phone, and said, 'No luck. I'm in a taxi, heading home.'
'Good.' She advised me, 'Don't do this again.' She said, 'I don't think my nerves can take another night of this.'
Well, there goes my theory about being married to someone in the business. I said, 'I've got the weekend off. Get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow.'
Me being lion bait did not seem to be working. Which could mean that Khalil and his local contacts had no idea I was out and about. Or they knew, but they smelled a trap. Or Khalil was gone.
No. He was here. I knew he was here. And as Kate suggested, and as I suspected, Khalil had his own plan for John Corey. He hadn't come this far with that much hate in his heart to let me live.
Back in my apartment building, I spoke to the two surveillance guys in the lobby, said good evening to the night doorman, got in the elevator, drew my Glock, and so forth.
My apartment was terrorist-free, and I made myself a Scotch and soda and collapsed into my La-Z-Boy.
I decided not to barricade my door tonight-I am available at home. I swiveled my recliner so it faced toward the foyer, put my Glock in my lap, and fell into a half-sleep.
I had a recurring dream that the door burst open, and in some of the dreams I was pumping rounds at the dark figures silhouetted in the hallway light. In other dreams I couldn't find my gun. One time, my gun jammed.
Where does this stuff come from? I used to dream about sex.
Friday morning. The sun came through the balcony doors and it looked like it was going to be another nice day. Today would also be a good day to kill Asad Khalil.
The shower is a dangerous place, as everybody knows who saw Psycho. I mean, you're naked and defenseless, and you can't hear anything with the shower running. So I took a nice bath, with my Glock, which will fire when wet.
I visited Kate at Bellevue, and she'd had a bad night and had made up her mind that she was breaking out today.
She said, 'I am not spending the weekend in this place.'
I really didn't want her back in the apartment yet, so I said, 'Tell you what. If something doesn't happen by Monday, you and I will fly out to… where your parents live…'
'Minnesota.'
'Right. But just hang in here a few more days.'
She didn't reply.
I really didn't want to go to East Cow Meadow, Minnesota, but maybe I could deposit Kate with her parents and get back here. Her father has a small arsenal in the house, and her crazy mother is a skeet shooter who can handle a shotgun better than most men. Also, ofcourse, Khalil didn't know Kate was even alive. To the best of my knowledge.
On that subject, I asked her, 'Did you ask Tom about a gun?'
'I did. It's against hospital regulations for a patient to have a gun.'
'That's a silly rule. I mean, maybe the convicts on the floor shouldn't have a gun, but why can't everyone else have their own gun?'
'John… please.'
I took my revolver out of its holster and slid it under her pillow. I said, 'You'll sleep better with Mr. Smith and Mr. Wesson.'
She nodded, but didn't reply.
I put her laptop on the bed and said, 'Get into the Sullivan County Medical Examiner's Office.'
She hesitated, then logged on and found the site, and discovered that Katherine Mayfield Corey had died in the Catskill Regional Medical Center. The cause of death was listed as homicide.
She stayed quiet awhile, then said, 'I guess your point is that I shouldn't complain about being here.'
'Better here than downstairs.' Meaning the city morgue.
'Okay… Monday.'
I stayed for lunch-broiled stool pigeon with plea bargain peas-and as we dined, Kate asked me if I was going out again Monday night, and I replied, 'I haven't heard.'
She said, 'It's a waste of time.'
'What would you suggest?' I asked.
'I don't know, but… Khalil's not going to fall for an obvious trap.'
'It's not that obvious.' I added, 'It's good for everyone's morale and it makes the bosses happy. Plus, you just never know.'
She took my hand and said, 'John… Khalil has obviously thought this out. I told you, he has his own trap. For you.'
'I hope so.'
'Don't hope so.'
'Look, Kate, I can spot a trap, too.'
'I know you can. And I also know that you'll walk right into it because you think you can turn it around.' She suggested, 'You have a big ego.'
Leading cause of death among alpha males.
She said, 'Monday, two tickets to Minneapolis.'
'I thought you wanted to go to Minnesota.'
She said, 'I'm looking forward to getting out in the country. It will do us a lot of good.'
'Right.' Should I remind her about what happened last Sunday when we got out in the country? Probably not.
I stood and said, 'Okay, I have to go.'
'I'll go online and book the trip.'
'Great.' Actually, of course, I wasn't going with her. Unless Asad Khalil was dead by Monday. And if I was dead by Monday, then I certainly wasn't going to Minnesota. That would be redundant. I reminded her, 'You have a revolver under your pillow.'
'Maybe that will improve the service here.'
'See you tonight.'
