Nelson Demille - Radiant Angel

I anticipated that response and reminded him, “You are authorized to cross jurisdictional lines when you are in hot pursuit.” I assured him, “That’s the law.”

“I know the law, Detective. I just don’t see the hot pursuit.”

He had a valid point, so I tried another approach. “I am a Federal law enforcement agent, and Ms. Faraday is a Federal intelligence officer. We have no jurisdictional boundaries in the war on terrorism.”

“I need to speak to a supervisor.”

“Call Captain Kalish.”

He reached for his radio, but I suggested he use his cell phone so the rest of the world couldn’t hear the conversation — or hear that I was on the SAFE boat.

He got Kalish on the phone and explained why he was calling, then handed me his cell phone.

Kalish asked me, “What the hell are you doing?”

“I thought Sergeant Conte just explained that.”

“Look, I’ve already stuck my neck out for you—”

“I appreciate that and I hope you took credit for my theory about how the radiation is being hidden—”

“And if what you think is going to happen actually happens, then neither you nor my officers want to be there when it happens.”

“We’re going to the harbor to make sure it doesn’t happen.”

“I assure you, this operation can proceed without you.”

“I lost my surveillance target, Scott. Now I need to find him.”

“Get over it. And put Conte back on.”

I looked at Sergeant Conte, who was dividing his attention between piloting the boat and trying to decipher my end of the conversation about going to the harbor to make sure something didn’t happen. Officer Andersson, too, seemed all ears.

Tess was looking at me, and I couldn’t tell if she approved of a trip to nuclear ground zero. Maybe I should have asked her.

Kalish said, “John? Put Conte on.”

“Scott, let me explain the situation to Pete and Nikola and put this to a vote.”

“A vote ? We don’t vote. I vote. And I vote no.”

Time to pull rank. Or call in a favor. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any rank to pull, and Scott and I were even on favors. So I appealed to his sense of duty. “Look, Scott, you understand how important—”

“Please put Sergeant Conte on or I’ll radio him and everyone can hear what I have to say.”

Tess asked me for the phone, and since I didn’t want Kalish on the radio, I handed it to her.

She said, “Captain Kalish, this is Tess Faraday. I’m putting the phone on speaker.”

“Good.” He said, “Conte, turn the unit around.”

Sergeant Conte called out, “Roger that.” He reduced his speed and began a wide starboard turn.

Tess said to Kalish, “Captain, we believe this event is not going to happen until eight forty-six A.M. or nine oh-three A.M., and I think you agree with that.”

“I might agree, but I’m not going to bet anyone’s life on it. So you and Detective Corey and my officers can run search patterns out in the ocean all night.” He added, “That’s an order.”

The SAFE boat was heading east now, back toward where we started.

Tess went on in a calm and reasonable tone of voice, “I’d like to explain the situation to Sergeant Conte and Officer Andersson, and see if they will agree to take us to the harbor.”

“Last time I saw them, they didn’t look suicidal.”

That seemed to get Conte’s and Andersson’s attention, and they exchanged glances.

Tess said, “All we’re asking for is a quick ride to New York Harbor. When we get there, Detective Corey and I will transfer to an NYPD Harbor unit or a Coast Guard cutter, and your unit can return to your area of operation.”

Kalish was silent, then asked, “How do you know you won’t get to the scene at the time it happens?”

“John and I are willing to take that risk, and we’d like to ask your officers if they are also willing.”

I had to admit that Tess was handling this well. Plus, she had balls, and Kalish appreciated balls.

Kalish stayed silent again, then said, “Okay... lay it out and have Conte call me back.”

Tess hung up and handed the cell phone back to Conte, who asked us, “What the hell is going on?”

I replied, without bullshit, “We believe there’s a ten-kiloton suitcase nuke onboard The Hana.”

Conte had no reply to that. Andersson stared at me.

I continued, “I believe it’s set to detonate at either eight forty-six A.M. or nine oh-three A.M., and you understand why. But I could be wrong about the times.”

Conte nodded, and so did Andersson.

I briefed them on the highlights of what we knew, though the background wasn’t as important to them as the words “suitcase nuke,” “New York Harbor,” and “8:46 A.M.” Or “9:03 A.M.” Or earlier, if Petrov was spooked.

Conte and Andersson listened, then Andersson asked, “Are you sure about this?”

Tess replied, “Not sure, but... almost sure.”

Conte said, “Holy shit.” He stared through the windshield. “Holy shit .”

Neither Tess nor I said anything, and we let them process all this.

Finally, Nikola Andersson turned in her seat and asked Tess and me, “Why do you want to go there?”

I replied, “I don’t actually want to go there. But I need to be there.” I explained, “This guy Petrov is my responsibility tonight.”

Tess added, “And my organization is partly responsible for letting these people into the country.”

Conte pointed out, “The Suffolk County Police Marine Bureau didn’t let them in.” He looked at his partner, and Andersson said, “If you’re just looking for a one-way ride, I think we can do that.” She asked Conte, “Okay?”

He hesitated, then said, “Okay.”

I felt obligated to remind them, “We could be sailing into a mushroom cloud.”

Conte replied, “Understood.” He added, “We won’t hang around after we transfer you to another unit.”

“Fair enough.”

Before he even called Kalish, Pete Conte began to come around.

Well, I thought, be careful what you wish for, especially if you have a death wish. Actually, I didn’t, but I do have an ego problem, and I was pissed at being marginalized by those pompous asses at 26 Fed. Screw them and their quiet end. Also, of course, I was doing my duty and protecting my country. It’s not all about me. Well, maybe it is.

I looked at Tess, who was looking at me. I said to her, “I should have let you know what I wanted to do.”

“Believe me, I figured that out long before I got on this boat.”

Am I that obvious? While I was thinking about that, Conte called Kalish on his cell phone and reported, “Heading west.”

“Copy.” Kalish asked, “Anything further?”

“Negative.”

“Godspeed.”

So that was it.

We headed west toward New York City, making fifty knots, and the SAFE boat practically flew over the water.

The fog was thinning, and I spotted two other Suffolk County Marine Bureau vessels and one helicopter as we continued toward New York Harbor.

The radar showed other craft in the vicinity, including the long line of commercial shipping on the Fairway heading to Ambrose Buoy. I noticed that the blips on the radar were not moving, so apparently shipping had been halted.

I got a text on my cell phone and read Kate’s message:

Conference went overtime, then we all went to late dinner. I’m beat, phone off, going to bed. Speak tomorrow. Love, K.

Okay, so she was still in D.C., which was good. And I’d be able to speak to her in the morning. Maybe.

I did recall, however, that my message to her said it was important that she call me. And she didn’t seem curious about why I was using someone else’s cell phone. I guess she was really tired.