Second Solace

by Robert Clark

  At least two people were walking around inside the semi. The soles of their boots thudded against metal as they moved around, preparing for the next stage.

  ‘We can’t be there already?’ whispered Noble incredulously.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ I replied with a hushed tone. ‘Not yet at least. Why go to the trouble of acquiring police vehicles to just turn up on site with a semi?’

  ‘That just means we’re close then,’ she groaned, ‘and it’ll be a lot harder to get the word out to locate a police vehicle somewhere in Manhattan.’

  The sound of the semi’s rear door creaked open and landed with a crash on the floor. Then the van we were trapped inside of roared to life. It wobbled and bumped down the ramp and came to a stop a minute later. A thought crossed my mind.

  ‘Grab the tie wraps and pretend like we’re still cuffed,’ I said, wiggling back into place as quickly as I dared.

  Noble got the message and did so too. Just in time. As she sat back down beside Miles’s body, the rear doors opened.

  The revolting face of Dickless grinned up at us.

  ‘Having fun back here?’ he asked.

  ‘We were playing I spy,’ I replied. ‘It’s amazing how fun that game is.’

  He said nothing to that. Instead, he hauled himself up and squeezed in opposite me. Before he closed the door, I chanced a look outside. We were parked up on a dark street. Dull buildings rose up on either side of us, with the nearest light at least a block away. I couldn’t see any New York landmarks in the distance. They were probably somewhere ahead of us. Dickless swung the door shut before I had a chance to look closer.

  He had changed clothes. He wore all black, smart and pressed, with a selection of badges and patches adorning the short-sleeved shirt, and a peaked cap balanced on his huge, watermelon of a head. The insignia sewn onto his sleeve read Police Department City of New York. Dickless readjusted the silver badge on his chest and smiled at me.

  ‘You get a police escort the rest of the way,’ he leered. ‘We wouldn’t want you getting any wise ideas before you attack the Big Apple.’

  ‘Pretty hard for me to attack somewhere with my hands tied behind my back,’ I said, moving my shoulders a little to feign the discomfort of being restrained.

  ‘There’ll be plenty of time to cut them off after this FBI bitch here shoots you through the head,’ he said, ‘too bad you killed her partner and wounded her just enough so that she bled out before help arrived.’ His eyes wandered up and down Noble. ‘They’ll give you a medal. Maybe they’ll bury you with it.’

  As he laughed, the van started up again, and drove away.

  Thirty-Eight

  Countdown

  The three of us sat in total silence for over a minute as the van twisted and turned through dark city streets. Noble and I kept our hands behind our backs, playing the part. We didn’t have a plan, but it would come.

  ‘Let me ask you a question,’ I said, looking at the grotesque beast opposite me, ‘has anyone actually thought this plan through?’

  Dickless said nothing.

  ‘Hear me out,’ I continued, ‘an EMP device of this size can take out what, a couple of blocks, maximum? Something that size will be a pain in the arse, sure, but the city will have backup generators dotted all around the place for situations exactly like this. So all you can realistically achieve with this is maybe a minute of downtime on the city’s biggest night of the year. You’ll cause maybe a couple million dollars in damage, but that’s spare change to New York. It deals in sums of cash ten times that every minute. It might feel like a lot for a little mountain fuck boy like yourself, but the city folk aren’t afraid of you.’

  ‘Who says there’s only one of us?’ he leered. The radio strapped to his shoulder crackled with action, but he ignored it. ‘There’s a lot of people who believe in the cause, and we’ve been planning this for years. Our time has come.’

  ‘How many are there?’ asked Noble.

  ‘You think I’m stupid enough to tell you that?’ he laughed. ‘Besides, there ain’t a thing either of you can do about it now.’

  ‘What does it matter if we’re dead?’ I said. ‘Like you said, we can’t do anything about it. Why not at least satisfy the itch?’

  He fixed me with his pig-ugly dime eyes.

  ‘Faultless logic, I s’pose,’ he sniffed. ‘Put it this way, there’s enough of us to make sure we get the job done right the first time. If we fucked up, there wouldn’t be enough of us left to do the rounds again. It’s all or nothing.’

  ‘How many?’ asked Noble a second time.

  Dickless shrugged.

  ‘Enough,’ was his final answer.

  And silence descended on the van. Unlike our time in the semi, our journey was not a simple one. Every couple of minutes, I felt the van turn left and right as it navigated city streets, and became all too familiar with the jolt of hurried brakes as traffic halted. So too was the noise much more prominent. Faint music could be heard over the chorus of sedentary traffic. People were celebrating. Ready to welcome in the new year with style.

  ‘Run us through the plan then, if you will indulge a couple of dead souls,’ I said.

  ‘Quiet.’

  ‘Why? I don’t think you know it.’

  ‘I know the plan.’

  ‘Do you? Because you look like a giant sack of shit, and all the giant sacks of shit I’ve ever met could barely manage to tie their shoelaces properly. I bet they told you, but you forgot most of it. I bet you’re going to run alongside like a good little dickless dog and hope someone throws you a bone.’

  He leaned forwards. Both hands clamped so hard they were turning white.

  ‘Listen here, you little-’

  But Noble didn’t let him get any further. With the agility of a fox, she lunged forwards and stuck the broken blade into the guy’s arm. He cried out and retreated, which was easier said than done with a massive bomb taking up most of the space. The blade came free and dropped to the floor, taking a large chunk of skin, and a pint of blood with it.

  Dickless clamped his hand over the wound, but didn’t stop. He made a reach for his sidearm, but Noble threw herself down onto his free hand, and slammed her forehead into his chin.

  Not wanting her to have all the fun, I launched forwards as well and pinned Dickless back against the panel. He threw his leg up and kicked me hard in the groin. The shock felt like I’d been tasered. I let go and balanced awkwardly in the van, which gave him all the invitation he needed to pounce forwards and smash his forehead into mine.

  Everything went black. I didn’t know if I was unconscious or dead or blind or paralysed or some combination thereof. I felt myself crumple back down beside the bomb, and listened for a moment as Noble struggled against the mass of muscle trying to kill her while my body recovered. I was aware I needed to do something, but I couldn’t. The headbutt had done me in.

  ‘Stone,’ Noble gasped. I could tell she had something around her throat, squeezing tight.

  I tried to open my eyes, but they were already open. The scene before me just kind of drifted back into view. Dickless was on top of Noble, pinning her against the door while a cascade of blood spurted out onto the panel beside him. Both hands were around her throat, and crushing hard. He had enough fight in him to kill.

  I rocked myself forwards and fell into the pair. Dickless batted me away with his elbow, and I collapsed back onto the bomb. But it gave Noble all the help she needed to punch Dickless in his neck wound.

  He couldn’t fight the pain. He roared, and let go of Noble, who went full on the offensive. Thumbs came out, and plunged into the giant man’s eyeballs. Squeezing them out. His screams filled the van, but she didn’t hold up. She kept going. Squeezing. Pushing. Forcing. I heard a squelching noise that would haunt me till my dying day, as his screams reached a crescendo. Noble reached down and pulled something from his belt, and I saw a flash of steel as a knife came up and burrowed into Dickless’s throat. Blood spurted out, coverin
g everything and everyone. I wiped it away, and struggled back into my seat. I looked at Dickless.

  He went limp. His body sagging like a deflated balloon. Noble removed the knife and pushed the body down into the crumpled floor space between us and the EMP.

  ‘What the hell was that?’ she gasped, as she snatched the pistol tucked into Dickless’s holster. ‘Some help you were.’

  I opened my mouth to talk, but my head hurt too much. Instead, I gargled at her and waved my hand in limp surrender. Her eyes rolled, and she shuffled back over to the bomb.

  With a better knife, she worked at the screws. Her hands were covered in blood. Hers and his. She worked like a machine, unscrewing bolt after bolt, until the metal top came free. I sat and watched, wishing the sickness in my head and stomach would pass. It didn’t.

  ‘Help me with this,’ she ordered as she pulled off the top of the bomb. I did, and as we dropped it on Dickless’s head, I looked inside.

  It was a mess. Like reading some bizarre, ancient language and trying to make sense of it, the EMP was just a cluster of everything I wished it wasn’t. No off switch jumped out at me. And each of the two trillion wires that spooled and snaked around the massive device looked dauntingly treacherous.

  Behind the cluster of wires was a metal cylinder wrapped extensively with a coil of wire. If I had to guess, I’d put money on the inside of the cylinder being full of explosives.

  ‘We shouldn’t have done that,’ I said.

  ‘Done what?’

  ‘Removed the casing. That metal sheet is nearly an inch thick. It’s designed that way to keep the explosives from spreading further than necessary. If it goes off, it’s going off with a big bang.’

  ‘I can’t risk it going off in the first place,’ said Noble. ‘We have to do something.’

  I looked at the device.

  ‘There’s got to be a power source,’ I said, ‘something external. That cylinder will be full of explosives. You wouldn’t go through the hassle of putting that together just to risk the battery going faulty. It has to be somewhere a person could access it. Even in here. They’ve got to have accounted for a misfire.’

  ‘You’re right,’ said Noble. ‘But where is it?’

  I looked at the EMP with more care. It had to be somewhere one of Gail’s men could reach. But where? Climbing over the corpse on the floor, I looked underneath the device. If there was something there, I couldn’t see it.

  Replacing the top of the bomb, I clambered over the top to check the back. The unease of straddling a bomb was that of straddling a wild horse, or a crocodile. Not one to be repeated. With all the care I could muster, I eased myself down into the minuscule gap behind the device.

  There it was. A small, black battery. The kind I’d seen a dozen times powering outdoor equipment at festivals or garden parties. Wires snaked out of the box, disappearing under the bomb. That had to be it. I reached out and tried to lift it up.

  It wouldn’t budge. Two bolts on either side secured it down. They’d thought of everything.

  ‘I can see the battery,’ I said, my voice strained. ‘But it’s bolted down.’

  ‘Shit. What is it like?’

  ‘A big black box with wires coming out of it.’

  ‘Be more specific.’

  ‘There’s two wires coming out of the right-hand side. They’re both red. Then there’s one black wire at the back that I can’t see where it goes.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Noble, uncertainty rampant in her voice. ‘Are there any switches?’

  ‘None that I can see.’

  She didn’t respond.

  ‘What should I do?’ I called.

  ‘I don’t know. I’m thinking.’

  I looked at the power source. All three wires ran out of my sight. And I had no idea what each one meant. The black wire led directly into a hole in the floor. I tried to think why. Maybe it was connected to the van’s own battery. A backup in case the worst happened. Maybe it led to a switch so the people up front could activate the device without getting out. Maybe it dangled limply in the road. I didn’t know.

  The two red wires had to be connected to the EMP itself. They ran directly beneath me into the belly of the beast. But why were there two of them? Wouldn’t one wire be enough? Or was one a power wire, and one a dummy? Maybe the removal of one activated the other? They’d bolted the device and battery to the chassis of a stolen police van. They’d thought the plan through. They had to have something in place for if someone tried to deactivate it.

  ‘I think you should pull out the black wire,’ said Noble.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘It’s the odd one out.’

  ‘Is that really all you’re going on?’

  ‘Of course not. My guess is that’s a switch so they can activate it from up front.’

  ‘That was my guess too.’

  ‘Then pull it.’

  ‘What if we’re wrong?’ I asked.

  ‘Then it’s been swell getting to know you.’

  Outside, the noises of celebration were getting louder. Traffic was heavy, almost at a standstill. I bet the only reason we were still moving was because the rest of the world thought we were the cops. How far away were we from our destination?

  I reached out and laced the black wire in my fingers.

  ‘How sure are we that pulling the black wire is the right call?’ I asked.

  ‘Zero, but what choice do we have?’

  ‘We could not pull any and see what happens next?’

  ‘Inaction isn’t an option. If you’re nervous, I’ll pull it for you.’

  ‘I can do it.’ I said.

  ‘Then pull the wire.’

  My heartbeat was through the roof. My head and neck and chest and back and stomach and groin and legs and feet hurt. I could feel the sweat from my neck dripping down onto the EMP. Inaction isn’t an option.

  I gripped the black wire.

  And I pulled.

  Nothing happened. Nothing exploded or beeped or anything. At first, I wasn’t sure I’d pulled the wire out. But it was there in my hand, severed wires exposed. I breathed out.

  ‘I think we’re oka-’ I said. But the machine cut me off.

  The EMP rumbled. The noise like that of a jet engine. It rocked the car like a washing machine on steroids. The force was so strong I slid off, landing on Miles’s lap.

  ‘What did you do?’ Noble shouted.

  ‘I pulled the black wire.’

  ‘Then what?’

  ‘Nothing. I didn’t touch anything else.’

  I looked down through the exposed plate at the EMP. Not a chance in hell it wasn’t starting up. It was more alive than me.

  ‘Shit shit shit,’ Noble shouted. ‘What do we do?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘We have to do something.’

  I looked at the device. Thought about what it was doing right that moment.

  ‘We have to reattach the case.’

  ‘If we do that, we’re letting it happen,’ Noble barked.

  ‘If we don’t, it’s not going to be just an EMP, it’s going to be a bomb. A really big, really deadly bomb. That’s much worse.’

  Her panicked eyes met mine.

  ‘We have to,’ I insisted. ‘We don’t have a choice if you want to save lives. They could park this anywhere. The death toll could be thousands.’

  She let out a long, frustrated yell, and pushed me aside. She clambered over the device and reached down behind it to where the power source was. I saw her yank her arm up,

  The EMP grew louder.

  ‘You pulled the other wires?’ I said. I didn’t need an answer. I knew she had.

  ‘Help me with the shell,’ she shouted. Her hands were shaking profusely. I took hold of one side, and together we dragged it back into place. With the knife, she started turning the screws back into place, but in her haste, the knife slipped and sliced her hand.

  ‘I’ll do that,’ I said, trying to keep calm.

  She hande
d over the knife, and moved away. I got into position, and started work.

  With every turn of the screw, I felt my heart beat faster. How long did we have? Seconds drifted with terrifying speed. And we were still trapped inside the van.

  ‘See if you can get the doors open,’ I said to Noble.

  She nodded, and started searching for a release.

  I kept turning screws. Tighter and tighter. Containing the blast. Running out of time.

  The van came to an abrupt halt. The engine switched off, and I heard two sets of doors open.

  I looked at Noble.

  She looked at me.

  I passed her the knife.

  The rear door clicked open.

  But that was it. It didn’t open any further. Using the training that had become her lifeblood, Noble kicked open the door and pounced out into the street. I followed close on her tail. As my feet hit the floor, the gravity of my surroundings hit me like a bullet.

  ‘Oh shit,’ was all I could say.

  The gargantuan skyscrapers that loomed all around were ablaze with searing lights. Advertisements bigger than the tallest trees burned their wares into my retinas, dazzling me with their stupendous glare. I raised my hands to cover my eyes, and looked around at the mass of people in each and every direction.

  Times Square was somewhere I had always wanted to visit as a child, but not under these circumstances. The enormity was not lost on me, but not for good reasons. So many people. So many lives, all in peril.

  ‘We need to get them out of here,’ I shouted to Noble.

  Her head was turned, watching two figures fleeing the scene. The driver and his passenger.

  I grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around.

  ‘We need to evacuate this area.’

  She nodded.

  The crowd chanted. It took me a minute to figure out what it was they were saying.

  ‘Twenty-nine, twenty-eight, twenty-seven.’

  The countdown. A new year dawning.

  So many people. So many casualties.

  I snatched the gun from Noble and pointed it above me. I squeezed the trigger. Once, twice, three times. The people nearby screamed and moved away, but the sheer noise and jubilation of the crowd was too much to quell. Noble wrenched the gun from me. Her face was mad, but my tactic had worked a little.