Imminent Threat

by Jeff Gunhus

  He grieved for all of two seconds. His daughter was right; there was a job to do.

  He gestured to all of the law enforcement and gathered them around. As he was accustomed to, the men and women there seemed to sense his authority. This was a man whose orders ought to be followed.

  “I’m not going to sugarcoat this,” he said. “There could be a massive bomb going off inside at any second. Probably dirty.” This prompted chatter in the group. He held up his hand. They were all ears. He turned and pointed to the hundreds of people behind them. “These are your people. How about we get to work and save as many of them as we can?”

  CHAPTER 67

  Mara sprinted up the stairs, past the marble lions. A quick glance behind her confirmed the senior Secret Service agent was following behind her, waving off the SWAT snipers who likely had her in their sights. Running into the library holding a metal disc was a good way to get shot.

  Without coms being up, it made things extra tricky.

  As she reached the doors, she had to wait as armed men blocked her, looking at the Secret Service agent lagging behind her for guidance.

  In those few seconds, she heard one, then two, then what sounded like every police siren in New York going off. She smiled. She knew her dad would get as many people to safety as possible.

  “She’s CIA,” the agent gasped, out of breath. “There’s a credible bomb threat. Get her to the Rose Reading Room. Evacuate the building. Evac Ranger, now!”

  The men in front of her were well trained. No one panicked. They just got to work.

  Two men in suits fell into step next to her. Together, they sprinted across the marble floor of the Astor foyer and hit the stairs, going two at a time.

  Mara was faster than her new companions, even carrying the device under her arm.

  She just prayed she’d be fast enough.

  * * *

  Asset checked his watch. He’d started the book train on its path thirty seconds ago. It was in the bowels of the building, nearly halfway to its destination.

  The timing would be perfect. He was already at the steps that led up to the escape hatch. It was a simple opening mechanism, a turning wheel like one would see in a ship or submarine. Once he opened the door, an alarm would go off, but before anyone figured out what was going on, there would be bigger problems to worry about.

  He estimated he didn’t need to get far. Just one block. A skyscraper to put between him and the blast. Another minute, maximum. Texas, the police dog, would help clear a path. Pedestrians in New York might not get out of the way of a cop, but they’d step aside for a German shepherd.

  The timing here had been a flaw in the plan. Leaving a full thirty to forty-five seconds when someone could see the book train arrive from the small opening in the librarian work area.

  But the chances were low and besides, even if someone did spot it, there was nowhere to hide.

  Asset spun the lock on the door and pulled the latch. There was a swoosh of air as the seal was broken. An alarm sounded, but he ignored it.

  He pushed up on the outer cover and heaved it over. He and Texas emerged with dozens of protestors staring at him wide-eyed.

  “Nothing to worry about, folks,” he said loudly. “Routine patrol.” He pulled at the lid to the opening and hefted it back into place. “Enjoy your evening.”

  He didn’t bother gauging whether people had believed him or not. Didn’t really matter. As he led Texas quickly through the crowd, he was taken by how many people were in Bryant Park. Had to be thousands. Every square inch of grass was occupied, as well as the sidewalks and open areas around the towering trees. Patterson had wanted a show of dissent for the monsters he was hosting, and he’d gotten what he’d wanted. Asset wondered how many of them would die from the blast.

  He didn’t dwell on it.

  When all was said and done, there would be billions who had to die to reset the world order. This was just the beginning.

  Using Texas as his wedge to open the crowd in front of him, he moved south toward safety.

  Leaving the crowd behind him to die.

  * * *

  The book train carrying the bomb inched its way up the vertical portion of its journey. The weight was greater than normal, but within the system specs. The computer brain that controlled everything sent a signal as it approached a fork in the pathway. One sent it west, toward the Map Room. The other was the more used route that sent trains to the Rose Main Reading Room.

  The system flawlessly activated the switch to send it to the proper location.

  Neither the book train nor the bomb it carried had any malice or ill intent. Both were simply built for efficiency, designed to execute a single job.

  And with all systems go, they were both going to do just that.

  The system halted the book train’s progress right before reaching the end of the track in the Rose Reading Room. It froze in place, cloaked in darkness, waiting, waiting.

  CHAPTER 68

  Mara anticipated the final cordon of security would give her trouble. And she was right.

  The floor with the Rose Reading Room on it was within her credentials, but the sight of her sprinting barefoot up the stairs with a metal disc under her arm, skin glistening with sweat from exertion, negated the badge she showed them.

  The Secret Service agents lagged behind her on the steps, but shouted up, “She’s good to go! Evac Ranger! Now!”

  They parted to let her through.

  She stopped just long enough to hold up the metal disc. “This might be the only thing that will stop a bomb from going off and killing all of us,” she said. “I need to get to the Rose Reading Room. Make it easy for me.”

  Three agents immediately ran with her, barking orders, pushing people out of the way.

  * * *

  Asset turned the corner on West Forty-third Street, one block north of the library. Not only that, but upwind as well. Once the bomb detonated, the radioactive fallout would travel fast.

  He stood next to a subway entrance. After the explosion, he would go underground and take a train north, away from the blast area. His police uniform and Texas were the perfect cover.

  He looked at his watch.

  Twenty seconds.

  He wondered whether the last few feet of the book train’s journey would really make any difference. There was some concern whether the programing to make it stop would be interpreted by the system to just slow down and take longer. A detonation three stories down in the marble building would still be catastrophic, but just not the same.

  It didn’t matter. His orders had been to detonate at an exact time after sending the book train on its journey. That was precisely what he would do.

  Asset looked around at the people going about their lives. No idea that everything they knew was about to change. And this was just the beginning. Asset hoped Marcus Ryker had the capability to manage the chain reaction this devastation was about to set into motion.

  Jacobslav Scarvan had vastly different motives from Ryker, but in the end, did it really matter? Whether the blast would start the Second Coming of Christ or the Second Age of Man as envisioned by Ryker, either way, this was a new beginning.

  Birth always involved pain and blood.

  Today was no exception.

  He pulled out the detonator and put his thumb on the trigger, watching the second hand on his watch tick down.

  * * *

  Jordi cheered as his video systems came back online, one by one.

  His celebration was stifled by what he saw there.

  A body in the stacks next to the book train. Sprawled on the floor in a puddle of blood.

  The resolution wasn’t great, but his stomach turned as he realized he was looking at Rick Hallsey

  Holy shit.

  Of course.

  “Mara! The book train! The bomb is being delivered on the book train!”

  CHAPTER 69

  Mara’s earpiece squelched, a piercing electronic sound that made her wince.


  She reached up to yank it out of her ear, but right before she did, she heard the words.

  “. . . book train. The bomb . . . on . . . train . . .”

  She knew what Jordi was referencing.

  The door to the Rose Reading Room was closed off. The various security details didn’t know what to make of her and a phalanx of Secret Service agents charging down the hall.

  “Clear the way!” shouted one of the agents. “Evac Ranger. Evac Ranger.”

  The security at the door of the Rose Reading Room charged into the hall. This time, Mara was behind the herd. They cleared the way for her like offensive linemen.

  She had no time to register the pandemonium erupting in the hall as over three hundred heads of state and their spouses and guests saw the United States Secret Service swarm the president and half-push, half-carry him from the room.

  Mara knew where she had to go.

  She shoved to her right, parallel to the work area in the center of the room. There were no librarians behind the counter tonight. In fact, each station had a vase with a bouquet of flowers that blocked her view.

  Mara shoved one of the vases aside and it smashed on the floor. She jumped through the workstation window, right where the book train station should be.

  Nothing.

  For a fleeting second, she wondered if they’d gotten it all wrong after all.

  Was it a monstrous hoax? Scarvan’s parting gift.

  Another diversion?

  “Other side,” Jordi said in her ear.

  She climbed over the workstations to the other side.

  There, only ten feet away across a book storage area, packed perfectly into the book train, was a black box. The bomb.

  She held up the RF blocker, hating the feeling of trusting something she couldn’t see.

  Especially on a day where every piece of technology seemed to have failed them.

  “Is it working, Jordi?” she whispered. “Please tell me this fucking thing is working.”

  * * *

  Asset took a deep breath. The time to press the button had come and passed.

  No one was more surprised than himself at his hesitation.

  He placed two fingers on the side of his neck and felt his pulse jackhammering away.

  Another deep breath.

  A recollection of all the pain he’d suffered in his life to get to this moment.

  All the pain he’d seen in the world. Most of it at the hands of the government leaders in the room with the bomb. It was time for rebirth. It was time for renewal.

  His pulse slowed. He rediscovered his center.

  He lowered his hand.

  Closed his eyes.

  And pressed the button.

  * * *

  “Mara?” Jordi said.

  “Yeah, Jordi?” she said, opening her eyes, realizing she didn’t remember closing them.

  “It’s working.”

  She exhaled sharply. The cacophony of shouting and screams flooded over her. The Reading Room was being evacuated in something like total chaos.

  “What can you tell me?”

  “Some of my sensors are back up,” Jordi said. “The blocker is definitely emitting a dampening shield around the bomb, device, whatever it is. We have cellular blocked. I think . . . I think we’re okay.”

  Mara couldn’t believe it. She wondered if they’d ever know how close they’d come. “What do you say we get some damn bomb squad guys on the scene?”

  “Roger that. Some of my coms are back on, but not all of them,” Jordi said. “Give me a sec.”

  * * *

  Asset pressed the button again.

  And then a third time.

  He craned his head to the side and listened. He thought he could have heard the explosion plainly. Even felt the ground shake beneath his feet.

  But there was nothing.

  Without hesitation, he turned and jogged toward the garage where he’d stored a vehicle. He and Texas had to get far, far away.

  His employer was not going to be pleased.

  He couldn’t be certain what was happening at the library, but he felt reasonably sure that Scott and Mara Roberts had somehow pressed their thumbs on the scale and ruined the plan.

  At least there was the fail-safe.

  While Marcus Ryker might not get to kill the entire world’s political leadership in one go, he would at least still inflict a blow on civilization.

  A nuclear blast in the middle of Manhattan would still create chaos.

  And that was what Omega’s plan required.

  * * *

  “Bomb secure,” Jordi’s voice said over the coms. “Require immediate bomb squad support in Rose Reading Room.”

  Scott put his hands on his knees and hung his head.

  He felt dizzy and short of breath.

  He realized at that moment how much he’d believed they were fighting a lost cause. How he’d assumed Scarvan and Omega had thought of everything. They’d been a step ahead of them the entire time.

  “Jordi, can you patch me in with Mara?”

  “Actually, yes I can,” Jordi said, clearly quite pleased with himself.

  “Dad?” Mara said.

  “You all right?” he asked, cupping his hand to his ear to hear her better.

  “You know, just another night on the job.” She sounded tired, but relieved. “You?”

  He grinned. His kid’s spunk always impressed him. “Couldn’t be better.” He paused, then turned serious. “I had a bad feeling about this one,” he said. “Seems like we were playing catch-up this whole time.”

  “Guess the end of the race is all that matters,” Mara said.

  “Everything happens for a reason,” Scott had said to Scarvan, who had responded with You will come to believe that one day. Maybe today. Scott had thought he’d meant everything along the way had been his doing. Allowing himself to be caught. Asset pretending to want to help them.

  There was no way he could have predicted they would stop him at the library.

  Impossible.

  “Dad, are you there?” Mara asked.

  “Why wasn’t the bomb just on a timer?” Scott asked.

  “What’s that?”

  “Why wasn’t the bomb just on a timer?” he asked again. An ice ball formed in his stomach. “In case there was a malfunction. In case there was a delay. In case the electronic signal of the countdown could be sniffed out.”

  “Oh God,” Mara said.

  He could hear in her voice that she understood just like he did.

  This wasn’t over.

  CHAPTER 70

  Mara climbed over the piles of books between her and the bomb. On the side opposite to where she’d been standing was a small display window that glowed red.

  2:00

  As she watched, the red glow flashed five times. Then the numbers changed.

  1:59

  1:58

  1:57

  “It’s counting down,” Mara said. “What do I do?”

  “How much time?” Scott asked.

  “Started at two minutes,” she said. She ran her hands over the surface of the bomb, looking for something to open. It was perfectly smooth. “1:55, 1:54.”

  “Get the hell out of there,” Scott said. “You can’t do anything.”

  “I can’t just leave,” Mara said. “Jordi?”

  “Listen to your dad,” he said. “Run fast toward the west end of the building. Put as much rock between yourself and the bomb as possible.”

  “Wait,” Mara said. “Can you send it back down? Restart the book train. The stacks are far underground. It might contain the blast.”

  “Mara,” Jordi said. “Rick’s in the stacks. But he’s been shot. I can’t tell if he’s dead or not. The escape hatch is open, though.”

  Mara understood what Jordi had said but couldn’t process the meaning. She couldn’t allow herself to. Mara glanced at the timer 1:42. There was no time.

  “Send it down, Jordi,” she said. “Now.”


  The book train kicked into gear and disappeared down the track.

  “I’ll get Rick,” Scott said. “I promise.”

  “No, Dad. Wait.” But it was too late. He was gone.

  CHAPTER 71

  Bryant Park was emptying out. Rumor had swirled about a bomb, but the die-hard protesters were standing firm.

  As Scott ran toward the escape hatch, he realized those assholes were going to die where they stood unless they moved.

  He ran right at an NYPD uniformed cop, smashing into him.

  In two seconds, he had the man’s firearm out of his holster.

  Two seconds after that, Scott had it pointed into the mulch bed of the bushes nearest him, firing shot after shot.

  Just like in the old Westerns, the gunshots started a stampede. It was a dangerous move, but there wasn’t time for anything else. Scott hoped any parents had already had the good sense to clear the area, because the rush to leave the park turned into chaos. The crowds moving faster each time he pulled the trigger.

  He reached the escape hatch and threw it open.

  Someone had used it already. The inner door hung open. The staircase was clear.

  Scott ran down the stairs, trying not to think about how many seconds had passed since he’d started his run.

  “Rick! Where are you?”

  He heard a groan and ran toward it.

  Rick was drenched in his own blood, clutching his stomach, already crawling to the exit.

  Scott bent and lifted him in a fireman’s carry. Rick screamed in pain with Scott’s shoulder jammed right into his gunshot.

  He staggered back to the stairs. Rick was a big man and heavy.

  But he was alive. And he’d promised his daughter he’d do his best.

  He dug deeper, pushed harder, gritting his teeth.

  Scott yelled as he took the stairs. He couldn’t stop. If he stopped he didn’t know whether he’d be able to start again.

  With a final push, he cleared the top of the escape hatch.

  Two NYPD cops ran up and took Rick off his shoulders.

  “Run!” Scott screamed. “Take him and run. Get out of the park.”

  The two cops carried Rick. Together they all ran away from the park.

  They’d cleared the trees and stumbled onto Forty-first Street when the blast went off.