Silent Night

ELEVEN

Located on 34 Street and taking up an entire city block between Broadway and 7 Avenue, Macy’s billed itself as The World’s Largest Store, a huge red banner draped down the side of the building claiming so in white letters. It wasn’t lying. The monolithic department store offered close to two million square feet of retail space. Hundreds of top-flight designers and clothing companies had concessions inside, from Tommy Hilfiger and Ralph Lauren to Armani, Versace and everyone else in between. The building had ten floors, a selection of coffee shops and restaurants, and thousands of customers passing through its three entrances every day of the week, each week of the year. It was also the setting for several nostalgic movies, including Miracle on 34th Street, where a little girl discovered that the store Santa Claus was real. However, as Archer and Josh jumped out of their hastily pulled-up Ford Explorer on 34 and 7, their thoughts weren’t so pleasant.

With lights flashing they’d cut through traffic and got down there in four minutes flat to find evacuation of the building was already underway. There were scores of pedestrians flooding the sidewalks outside the 7 Avenue entrance, ushered out by efficient store security and cops from Midtown South. Archer saw that an ESU truck had already arrived, the NYPD’s SWAT team, the officers already inside the building. Several Hercules Teams, armed Special Forces-type units, had also shown up and were spread out on the sidewalks, talking into radios and scanning the crowds. Showing their badges to the cops, Josh and Archer pushed their way through the glass doors and made their way into the building.

Inside, it was a similar scene to the sidewalk outside. There was a sea of people, men, women and kids, all of whom were being quickly herded towards the exits. The two detectives saw a large pool of ESU officers and store security guards gathered to the left, listening closely as they received orders from their Lieutenant who was standing in front of them, like a sports team receiving a half-time talk.

Archer and Josh fought their way towards the group, but the gathering disbanded just as they got there. The ESU officers and Macy’s guards headed off with purpose, some moving swiftly towards the upwards escalators, others headed downstairs to the basement. Standing beside a guy who looked like the head of store security, the ESU Lieutenant had spotted Archer and Josh pushing their way towards him. He was in his forties, dark haired, dressed in police fatigues, a Colt AR-15 assault rifle slung over his shoulder on a strap.

‘Blake and Archer,’ Josh said, showing his badge. ‘Counter Terrorism Bureau.’

‘Hobbs,’ the ESU Lieutenant said, shaking their hands quickly. ‘You the two guys who’ve come from the lab?’

‘That’s right.’

‘I spoke to your man Shepherd. He said a box containing a bomb might have been left somewhere in the building. Mind telling me what’s inside?’

‘It’s a Type-Three Pneumonic virus,’ Archer said. ‘Once it enters the human body, the host is dead within half a minute.’

‘Jesus Christ. Hang on.’ He grabbed his radio. ‘All teams, gas masks. This is a biological threat. I repeat, a biological threat. Put on your gas masks.’

‘One viral bomb already went off in Central Park last night,’ Josh said. ‘It killed a groundsman.’

‘I’ve got my men and the store team searching the building,’ Hobbs said. ‘We know the shape, or anything distinguishable about this box?’

Josh shook his head. ‘Rectangular. Like a shoebox. That’s it.’

‘Shit. I’ve sent them out in teams, working their way through each floor. But I need reinforcements. You have any ideas as to how we find this thing?’

During this exchange, Archer had gone quiet. Something Maddy Flood had said earlier surfaced in his mind.

‘Wait,’ he said.

Hobbs and Blake turned and looked at him.

‘Every ESU officer carries a radiation detector, right?’

Hobbs nodded. ‘One of the Department’s newest regulations. All my men have one. Why?’

‘We can use them.’

‘How?’ Josh asked. ‘It’s a virus. Nothing will show up.’

Archer shook his head. ‘The doc said that the virus was cultivated using cobalt. That stuff is radioactive.’

Josh looked at him. The penny dropped.

‘You think it’ll show?’

Archer nodded. ‘Those things are sensitive. It’ll show.’

Hobbs listened to the exchange, then lifted his radio again. ‘Attention, all teams. Use your radiation detection equipment, I repeat, use your radiation detection equipment. The package we’re looking for will give you a gamma reading.’

He put down the radio. Behind them, more police and a Chemical Response Team had just arrived through the doors, carrying their gear and making their way through the remaining crowd towards the command post. As they approached, Hobbs reached to his belt and unclipped a small radiation detection device, about the size of a stopwatch.

He passed it to Archer. ‘Here. I’ll fill these guys in. You two better get searching.’

Archer took it with a nod.

Then he and Josh ran for the escalator.



Three floors above, the viral bomb continued to count down silently, hidden from view under the wooden panel.

4:02.

4:01.

3:59.

3:58.



Inside the briefing room at the Counter Terrorism Bureau, Shepherd and Rach were still working on trying to find out where the man in the red jacket went after he left the store. Rach had him walking out of the south entrance on 34 Street, a streetlight camera in front of him, but he’d turned to his left and moved out of the shot.

‘Damn,’ Rach said, scouring the cameras.

‘What?’

‘Outside Macy’s is the last I can find of him. Look.’

She ran back the tape and hit Play. Shepherd watched the man walk out of the store, checking his watch, then turning and heading down 34. He switched his gaze to the next camera shot.

But the man never reappeared.

‘Damn it,’ Rach said. ‘Blind spot.’

Shepherd tapped the shot on the left. ‘Go to this camera in real time.’

‘Now?’

‘Now.’

She did, and the shot came up. People were flooding the street, all of them milling outside Macy’s, waiting to be allowed back in.

‘Find the trash,’ he said.

She tapped the keyboard and watched as shots appeared on screen. She held the down arrow and the camera slid down. She held the right arrow and it moved to the right. Shepherd tapped the screen.

‘He ditched the coat. Look.’

Rach peered closer and could make out a piece of the familiar red fabric. The jacket had been dropped into a trash can, just out of sight of the initial view of the camera.

‘Shit,’ she said, pulling the camera up to its original shot.

‘Track back,’ Shepherd said.

She nodded and went to wind back the tape, but something in the corner of the computer screen caught her eye and made her stop.

‘Wait a minute, sir,’ she said.

She brought up a shot from the top right corner. It was from about thirty minutes ago, the white lettering in the corner of the shot stating it was at Times Square 42nd Street Sub.

‘Look,’ she said, tapping the screen. ‘This is from earlier. Ten minutes before he entered the store.’

Shepherd looked closer, examining the shot.

Amidst the hustle and bustle of the station in the footage, he saw the man in the red jacket, the white bag containing the dark box in his hand.

He was with two other men.

They were each carrying an identical bag.

‘Oh no,’ Shepherd said. ‘No, no, no. Not good.’

Shepherd and Rach watched the trio split up and move off in separate directions. There was a moment’s silence as the implication of what they’d just seen hit them.

Then Rach looked up at Shepherd slowly.

‘Sir, we’re not just dealing with one bomb.’

‘We’re dealing with three.’