Detective Heat’s Crown Victoria ripped across West 79th Street rolling Code
Three, full lights and siren. She had Rook speed-dial her phone for her so she could
keep her hands on the wheel while she called the dispatcher to rally her crew and
the counterterrorism unit downtown at the protest march Carey Maggs had helped
sponsor. Rook held her cell with one hand and gripped the door handle with the other
as she wove around slow cars or braked, then g-force accelerated through stoplights.
At that hour on Saturday morning, traffic was light, and in record time she steered
them around the rotary onto the Henry Hudson Parkway heading downtown.
In her call to Dispatch, she described what to be on the lookout for: a red 1870s
London Fire Brigade wagon with a large copper boiler kettle on the back. “I believe
that’s the container holding the bioagent, so proceed with extreme caution.”
Seeing clear lanes of straight highway ahead, Rook spoke to her, elevating his voice
above the siren. “What was your lightbulb? What made you connect it?”
“The peanut butter cup,” she said. “I remembered I ate the peanut butter cup the
morning I visited Maggs at his brewery.”
“You are amazing. How the hell did you remember something as trivial as that?”
“Because it wasn’t trivial. I was pissed at you when you called from Nice. With
Yardley.”
“And the candy fits in because…?”
“Because I ate it in a rage binge. I was furious at you for being so goddamned
stupid and completely insensitive.” She paused to make a quick maneuver around a
sanitation truck. “Hey, some people kick trash cans, I break out the Reese’s.”
They rode in silence. At last, Rook said, “Glad I could play a role.”
It only took Heat and Rook fourteen minutes to get to Battery Park on the southern
tip of Manhattan, but when they arrived, Emergency Services, the Hercules team, and
the counterterrorism unit had already gathered at their staging area on State Street
and Bowling Green in the plaza near the old Customs House. Nikki wove between riot
cops and bright rows of pink tulips in full spring bloom until she found Commander
McMains marking up deployment maps. “Hard to think of a worse scenario, Detective.
”
They surveyed the situation across the street in Battery Park, where several
thousand protestors had gathered behind the giant banner stretching across the Hope
Garden declaring the Walk Against Global Oppression. Heat spotted the logo for
Brewery Boz as corporate sponsor. “This is the event Carey Maggs has spent all year
promoting. Doing all he could to draw a big crowd—so he can release the smallpox on
them.”
“Sunny skies, gentle breeze, unfortunately a perfect day for it,” said the
commander. “Latest guesstimate from the airship puts them at four thousand
marchers. That includes kids and toddlers in strollers.” He shook his head. “And
they’re still streaming in.”
“Why can’t you stop them?” asked Rook. “Just move them out.”
“Great idea, here you go.” The commander held a bullhorn out to Rook, then pulled
it back. “Sorry for the smart-ass, but I’m going to guess you have limited
experience breaking up a protest mob. They tend to fight you on that, and this group
’s no different.” McMains shifted his attention to Heat. “When I got here, I got
clearance to announce the bioterror danger to the organizers. They think we’re
lying, just trying to disrupt their march.”
Nikki scanned the area and saw several hundred riot control officers adding gas
masks to their preparations. “Any sign of Homeland Security?”
“Right here,” said Agent Callan. They turned as he and Yardley Bell stepped in to
join them.
“What happened to my prisoner?” demanded Heat.
Callan gave an oblique reply. “Congratulations. Looks like you did better than us,
after all.”
“I asked you, what happened to Maggs?”
“He’s not a concern right now, Detective. Let’s do the job first, all right?” He
didn’t wait for a response but answered for her. “All right. Now describe this
fire truck we’re looking for.”
Once more Heat swallowed her anger for the sake of the mission. “It’s a vintage
London fire wagon Maggs restored as a promotion for this event.”
“And, apparently, refitted with a container to spray the crowd,” added Rook. He
finished tapping his iPhone screen and held it up. “Here’s a promo picture of it
from the Brewery Boz Web site.”