Vector (8 page)

"It's in the machinery spaces on the third floor, " Reggy said.

"How about the main air induction. Where's that? "

"Same place, " Reggy said.

"Good, " Curt said. "Let's take a look at it."

"How come? " Reggy asked.

"There's supposed to be smoke detectors both for the new air coming in and the recirculated air, " Curt explained. "We've got to at least eyeball them. Actually, we're supposed to give them a test." Reggy shrugged and led the way.

The noise level in the machinery spaces was horrendous. It was a huge room that was filled with all manner of equipment, including massive electrical panels, huge boilers, compressors, and pumps. A bewildering array of pipes, ducts, and conduits angled off in all directions. Few people ever paused to think of what it took to warm and cool a building the size of the Jacob Javits Federal Building or for the elevators to function or even for water to come out of a faucet on the thirty-second floor. It all required a lot of power and machinery, and it ran twenty-four hours a day.

The main air ducts were so large they didn't look like ducts. They ran along one wall of the oversized room before branching off like a large, felled tree. At intervals there were hatch-like doors that were dogged like those on a ship.

Reggy had to shout to be heard. He pounded the side of one of the ducts and yelled that it contained the fresh air being pulled in from outside.

He showed where it mixed with recirculated air.

Reggy walked along the duct, then pounded it again. "Here's where the filters are located, " he yelled. "What part of the duct do you want to #, , see.

"The part downstream from the filters, " Curt yelled back.

Reggy nodded. He walked over to a huge circuit breaker switch and threw it. A portion of the cacophony of machinery noise in the room wound down.

"That's the switch to the main circulating fan, " Reggy explained.

Then he walked over to one of the hatch-like doors and undogged it. It opened into the room on creaky hinges.

"We're upstream of the main circulating fan, " Reggy said. "When it's running you can't open this door. There's too much suction." Curt moved to the door and glanced into its dark interior. He slipped his flashlight from its holder on his belt and turned it on. First he directed the beam back at the filters. Steve tried to see over his shoulder, but the door was too narrow.

"Step inside if you'd like, " Reggy suggested.

Curt ducked down and stepped over the lip. He shined the light back at the filter. Steve leaned in from the doorway. Reggy went over to the HVAC console to turn off the alarm announcing a fall in the system's pressure.

"See what I mean about the need to reconnoiter, " Curt said. The insulated duct shielded most of the noise coming from the machinery room.

"I forgot about filters, " Steve admitted.

Curt swept the light in the opposite direction. The huge blades of the main circulating fan were still slowly revolving. Angling the light up to the ceiling, Curt found the smoke detector. He'd need a ladder to test it.

"That's the one we'll want to go off, " he said. "We'll have to find an accessible air return on this floor for one of the troops to set off a smoke bomb."

"You think there's a specific designator for this smoke detector on the fire control annunciator panel? " Steve asked.

"I'll be surprised if there isn't, " Curt said. "And even if there isn't, the panel will tell us the activated smoke detector is in the HVAC system. One way or the other you and I will have a reason to come in here."

"Provided we beat Engine Company Number 6 from Beekman Street, " Steve said.

"There's no way they could get here before us, " Curt said. "Engine Number 6 has to come from the other side of City Hall. We'll be in this duct before they even reach the scene. If we have to worry about anybody, it's our own ladder company. We just have to be sure they keep themselves busy getting all the elevators down to the ground floor like they're supposed to."

"So what do we do when we get in here? " Steve asked. "Where do we put the stuff? " He glanced around at the floor of the duct. There was no place to hide anything.

"Yuri says it will be in the form of a fine powder in impervious plastic bags. We'll just place them in here and set the little timed detonators.

When they go off, we'll be long gone."

"You don't think we have to hide the bags? "

"I don't see why, " Curt said.

"What if someone comes in here after we leave? " Steve asked.

"Did you hear the hinges on the door when Reggy opened it? " Curt asked.

"Nobody comes in here. Just to be sure we'll disarm the smoke detector as well as turn off the fire control system."

"That's a good idea, " Steve said. He shrugged. "I guess it's going to work."

"Bet your ass it's going to work, " Curt said. "Come on! Let's locate a good air return on this floor and then finish our sham fire inspection. We should be getting back to the station." Finding an appropriate air return was easy. After leaving the machinery room, Curt had asked for the closest men's room. While Reggy waited outside, Curt and Steve found a convenient grate that would be easily removable.

They imagined the duct was a straight shot back to the smoke detector they'd just seen.

"All one of our guys has to do is pop this grate off and toss in a smoke bomb, " Curt said. "That will set off the alarm for sure." A half hour later Curt and Steve recrossed the plaza in front of the Federal Building. The sun had gone in behind a bank of clouds, and gusts of wind were buffeting the local pigeons. Curt had to keep a tight grip on his clipboard to keep the papers from blowing off. The two men climbed into their official car that they'd parked by the curb.

Curt started the engine and pulled out into the traffic. "Have you made any more progress on our route of retreat? " he asked. The way they'd divided up the planning was for Curt to concentrate on the event itself while Steve worked on their escape.

"It's done, " Steve said. "I've been on the Internet every night for hours. I've got safe houses arranged for us all the way to Washington State and then up into Canada if need be. Every one of the militias I've contacted has been more than willing to help."

"Have they been curious about what's going down? " Curt asked.

"That's an understatement, " Steve said. "But I haven't told them anything other than it's going to be big."

"It's going to be like the Turner Diaries coming true, " Curt chortled.

He was referring to his favorite novel, one widely circulated among the violent far right. In it the protagonist, Turner, started a general rebellion by bombing the FBI Headquarters in Washington, D. C. Curt was feeling euphoric over his luck in having a weapon of mass destruction dropped into his lap. Now he finally had the power to strike back appropriately and dramatically at the government. Those Zionist bastards in Washington were going to learn the hard way that they shouldn't make war on their own citizens with the FBI and the a.T.F a la Ruby Ridge and Waco, nor should they conspire to take away people's cherished rights such as the right to bear arms, nor should they have backed abortion, gay rights, or affirmative action, or tolerated miscegenation. On top of all that was the illegality of the IRS and support for the United Nations. The list was almost endless.

Curt shook his head when he thought how far the government had wandered from its constitutional mandate. It deserved what was coming. Of course there were going to be civilian casualties. But that couldn't be avoided. After all, there had even been civilian casualties in the American Revolution. Like the "shot heard around the world, " Operation Wolverine was going to be momentous, and if it succeeded in ushering in the new "Fifth Era" the way the Battle of Bunker Hill augered the birth of a new government, he realized he would probably be considered a kind of modern-day George Washington. It was all almost too heady to contemplate.

"A general revolt could start before we reach the West Coast, " Steve said. "All the militias are waiting for some sign to start coordinated action. Even if only half the people Yuri expects die with Operation Wolverine, this could be it."

"I was just thinking along the same lines, " Curt said. A self-satisfied smile spread across his face as he imagined how he'd be lionized on the far right's Internet bulletin boards.

"If there is a general uprising, " Steve continued, "I think we should hole up in Michigan. From what I've learned the militias there are the most organized. It would be the safest place."

"How have you planned for us to get out of the city? " Curt asked.

"By a PATH train from the World Trade Center, " Steve explained. "As soon as we get back to the station after we've planted the stuff we quit. We walk into the captain's office and say sayonara."

"He's going to blow his top, " Curt said. He'd not heard about this part of the plan and hadn't given it much thought.

"It can't be helped, " Steve said. "We have to get out of the city, particularly after Yuri does his laydown, which he says he's going to do at the same time we do ours. I don't feel as confident as he does that it's just going to blow over the Upper East Side."

"That's a good point, " Curt said. "But why don't we just disappear? Why say anything to anybody? "

"Because that would cause too much attention, " Steve explained. "They'd be looking for us right away, maybe even worried we'd been the victims of foul play. Yuri says that using a bio-weapon gives a two-to five-day delay until all hell breaks loose. I want us to be far away by then."

"I guess you're right, " Curt conceded.

"We'll tell the captain we've had it with the bureaucracy and the lack of discipline. That won't be a lie. We've both been complaining how the department has been deteriorating."

"What if the captain says he's not going to accept our resignations? "

"What is he going to do?"

" Steve asked. "Put us in leg irons? "

"I guess not, " Curt said. He still felt uncomfortable about having to face an irate captain. "But maybe we should give this part some more thought."

"Fine by me, " Steve said. "As long as we're on a PATH train to New Jersey ASAP, I don't really care what we tell anybody. I'm confident of our getaway.

I've got an old pickup truck over there in a garage near the first stop. That's going to take us to the first safe house, in Pennsylvania. There I've arranged for another vehicle. In fact, we'll be using a different vehicle after each stop."

"I like that, " Curt said.

Curt turned into the Duane Street firehouse and pulled the car to the side so it didn't block any of the gleaming red fire trucks. He and Steve locked eyes for a moment and gave each other a thumbs-up.

"Operation Wolverine is on track, " Curt said.

"Armageddon here we come, " Steve said.

As the two men alighted from the vehicle, Bob King, one of the latest recruits, looked up from polishing engine #7. "Hey, Lieutenant! " he called.

Curt gazed over at the rookie and raised his eyebrows.

"There was a cabbie in here a little while ago asking for you, " Bob yelled. "He was a short, squat guy with an accent that sounded Russian." Curt glanced at Steve. Steve stared back, aghast.

Obviously he didn't like this news any better than Curt did. There'd been an understanding that Yuri was never supposed to come to the fire station. Their contact had been limited to phone calls and meetings at the White Pride bar.

"What did he want? " Curt asked hoarsely. He had to clear his throat.

With an operation of this magnitude, slipups were unacceptable.

"He wants you to call him, " Bob said. "He seemed disappointed you weren't here."

"What did you do to him? " another firefighter called out from behind the truck. "Forget to tip him? " Laughter erupted from a group of four firemen playing cards near the juncture of the firehouse and the sidewalk. The overhead doors were open to the October afternoon.

"Did he leave his name or phone number? " Curt asked.

"Nope, " Bob said. "He just said to have you call him. I thought you'd know who he was."

"I haven't the slightest idea, " Curt said.

"Well, maybe he'll be back, " Bob said.

Curt motioned for Steve to follow him. They climbed the stairs to the living quarters. Curt pushed into the men's room. Once inside, he checked the stalls and the shower to make sure they were alone.

"I don't like this, " Curt spat in a forced whisper. "What the hell did he come here for? "

"I told you the guy was a kook, " Steve said.

Curt paced back and forth like a caged animal. He had his mildly prognathous jaw clamped shut. He couldn't believe Yuri could have been so stupid.

"I'm worried the guy is a kind of a loose cannon, " Steve said. "I think we have to have a talk with him. At the same time, I'd like to see some proof that he hasn't been taking us for a ride." Curt nodded as he paced, then stopped. "All right, " he said. "After work we'll go by his house in Brighton Beach. We'll talk some sense into him about security. Then we'll demand to see his lab and demand some proof he's doing what he says he's doing."

"Do you know his address? " Steve asked.

"Fifteen Oceanview Lane, " Curt said.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 18

12:30 P. M. "Knock, knock, " a voice called.

Both Jack and Chet looked up from their desks to see Agnes Finn, the head of the microbiology lab, standing in the doorway.

"I feel like this is deja ZJU, " Agnes said. "Unfortunately it's a kind of vu I don't like." She had a tentative smile on her usually dour face.

Her statement was the closest Jack had ever heard her come to humor.

She was clutching a piece of paper in her hand.

Jack knew instantly what deja vu she was referring to. Three years previously, when he'd made the shocking diagnosis of plague in a curious infectious case, she'd made it a point to bring the confirming results personally.

"Don't tell me it was anthrax, " Jack said.

Agnes pushed her bottle-bottom glasses higher on her nose and handed the sheet of paper to Jack. It was the result of a direct fluorescent antibody test on one of the mediastinal Lymph nodes. In bold capital letters it said, POSITIVE FOR ANTHRAX.