Two-Two had the same idea, though, and Two-Two was pointing back.
Mike wasn’t sure who fired first, or if they fired at the same time, because the push of the pistol in his hand was matched by a tug on his sleeve. But he was entirely sure whose aim was better. Two-Two’s head snapped back in a mist of blood. When Mike looked at his arm, there was a hole in the sleeve of his T-shirt, but not in his flesh.
The kid from the passenger side wasn’t moving, and neither was Two-Two. Mike holstered his gun and hustled around the car to check on Leshaun. There were two holes in Leshaun’s shirt: one hole a bloody mess on his upper arm, the other on the chest, clean and clear, the vest doing its job. Leshaun’s eyes were open, and Mike had never been happier to see that big black motherfucker staring at him, but as he called for help he realized he was also going to have to call his ex-wife again.
He was going to be really, really late.
National Information Centre of Earthquake Engineering,
Kanpur, India
It didn’t matter what Dr. Basu did; the numbers kept coming back strange. She had rebooted her computer twice, even called Nadal in New Delhi and made him manually check the sensor in the basement of his building, but she kept getting the same results: something was shaking New Delhi with a consistency that was puzzling. Whatever it was, Dr. Basu thought, it wasn’t an earthquake. At least, it didn’t act like an earthquake.
“Faiz,” she called. “Can you please check this for me?”
Faiz wasn’t exactly quick to respond. He’d gone to Germany the previous month for a conference and had apparently spent most of his time in Düsseldorf in the hotel room of an Italian seismologist. Her colleague’s focus, since coming back, was on e-mailing dirty pictures back and forth with his new girlfriend and trying to find employment in Italy.
Dr. Basu sighed. She wasn’t used to such behavior from Faiz. He was funny and charming, but also sloppy and inappropriate and in many ways a horrible man—he had showed her some of the photos the Italian woman had sent him, photos that Dr. Basu was sure were not meant for sharing—but he was also good at his job. “Faiz,” she said again. “Something’s going on.”
He banged his keyboard with a flourish and then pushed his heels against the ground, sending his chair wheeling across the concrete floor. “Yes, boss.” He knew she hated when he called her that. He looked at her screen and then ran his fingers across the monitor, even though he knew she hated that too. “Yeah,” he said. “Looks weird. Too steady. Try rebooting.”
“I did. Twice.”
“Call New Delhi and get somebody to check the sensors. Maybe reboot those too.”
“I already did,” Dr. Basu said. “The data is accurate, but it doesn’t make any sense.”
Faiz took a toffee from the bowl of candy she kept next to her computer. He started unwrapping the cellophane. “Ines said she might be able to come visit the last week in May. I’m going to need that week off, boss, okay?”
“Faiz,” she said. “Concentrate.”
“It’s hard to concentrate knowing that Ines could be here next month. We aren’t going to leave my apartment. She’s Italian, which means she’s extra sensual, you know?”
“Yes, Faiz, I know. And why do I know? Because you keep telling me exactly how ‘sensual’ she is. Has it ever occurred to you that I might want to spend my time focusing on data rather than on the way your new girlfriend likes to—”
“She’s never been to India before,” Faiz interrupted. “We aren’t going to do anything touristy, though. A week in the bedroom, if you know what I mean.”
“It’s impossible not to know what you mean, Faiz. You are a man who has never encountered subtlety, and if I were not such a wonderful and understanding person, I would have you fired and possibly imprisoned. Now, please concentrate,” she said.
He looked at the numbers again. “It’s low and strong, but whatever it is, it isn’t an earthquake. Too steady.”
“I know it’s not an earthquake,” Dr. Basu said. She was trying not to lose her temper. She knew there was something she wasn’t seeing, and while Faiz might be acting like a lovesick fool, he really was a remarkable scientist. “But let’s concentrate on what it is, not what it isn’t.”
“Whatever it is, it’s building,” Faiz said.
“What?” Dr. Basu looked at the monitor, but she didn’t see anything that stood out. The rumbles were all low. Nothing that really would have worried her if it had been something singular. It was the regularity, the pattern, that left her feeling as if something was wrong.