Holy
Redeemer Cemetery, Baltimore, Maryland
Saturday, August 28, 8:04
A.M.
Time Remaining on the
Extinction Clock: 99 hours, 56 minutes
“Detective Ledger?” he said, and held out an
ID case. “NSA.”
“How do you spell that?”
Not a flicker of a smile touched the
concrete slab of his face. He was as big as me, and the three goons
with him were even bigger. All of them in sunglasses with American
flags pinned on their chests. Why does this stuff always seem to
happen to me?
“We’d like you to come with us,” said the
guy with the flat face.
“Why?” We were in the parking lot of Holy
Redeemer Cemetery in Baltimore. I had a bunch of bright yellow
daffodils in one hand and a bottle of spring water in the other. I
had a pistol tucked into the back of my jeans under an Orioles
away-game shirt. I never used to bring a piece to Helen’s grave,
but over the last few months things have changed. Life’s become
more complicated, and the gun was a habit 24/7. Even
here.
The Goon Squad was definitely packing. Three
right-handers and one lefty. I could see the faint bulges even
under the tailored suits. The lefty was the biggest of the bunch, a
moose with steroid shoulders and a nose that looked like it had
been punched at least once from every possible angle. If things got
weird, he’d be the grabby type. The guys on either side of him were
pretty boys; they’d keep their distance and draw on me. Right now
they were about fourteen feet out and their sports coats were
unbuttoned. Smooth.
“We’d like you to come with us,” Slab-face
said again.
“I heard you. I asked, ‘Why?’
”
“Please, Detective-”
“It’s Captain Ledger, actually.” I put a bit
of frost in it even though I kept a smile on my
face.
He said nothing.
“Have a nice day,” I said, and started to
turn. The guy next to Slab-face-the one with the crooked nose-put
his hand on my shoulder.
I stopped and looked down at his big hand
and then up at his face. I didn’t say a word and he didn’t move his
hand. There were four of them and one of me. The Nose probably
thought that gave them a clean edge, and since NSA guys are pretty
tough he was probably right. On the other hand, these guys tend to
believe their own hype, and that can come back to bite you. I don’t
know how much they knew about me, but if this clown had his hand on
me then they didn’t know enough.
I tapped his wrist with the bunch of
daffodils. “You mind?”
He removed his hand, but he stepped closer.
“Don’t make this complicated.”
“ ‘Why?’ ” I said, “is not a complicated
question.”
He gave me a millimeter of a smile.
“National security.”
“Bullshit. I’m in national security. Go
through channels.”
Slab-face touched the Nose’s shoulder and
moved him aside so he could look me in the eyes. “We were told to
bring you in.”
“Who signed the order?”
“Detective. ”
“There you go again.”
Slab-face took a breath through his nose.
“Captain Ledger.” He poured enough acid in it to melt through
battleship armor.
“What’s your name?” I asked. He hadn’t held
the ID up long enough for me to read it.
He paused. “Special Agent John
Andrews.”
“Tell you what, Andrews, this is how we’re
going to play it. I’m going to go over there and put flowers on the
grave of my oldest and dearest friend-a woman who suffered horribly
and died badly. I plan to sit with her for a while and I hope you
have enough class and manners to allow me my privacy. Watch if you
want to, but don’t get in my face. If you’re still here when I’m
done, then we can take another swing at the ‘why’ question and I’ll
decide whether I go with you.”
“What’s this bullshit?” snapped the
Nose.
Andrews just looked at me.
“That’s the agenda, Andrews,” I said. “Take
it or leave it.”
Despite his orders and his professional
cool, he was a little off-balance. The very fact that he was
hesitating meant that there was something hinky about this, and my
guess was that he didn’t know what it was-so he wasn’t ready to try
to strong-arm me. I was a federal agent tied to Homeland-or close
enough for his purposes-and I held military rank on top of it. He
couldn’t be sure that a misstep here wouldn’t do him some career
harm. I watched his eyes as he sorted through his
playbook.
“Ten minutes,” he said.
I should have just nodded and gone to visit
Helen’s grave, but the fact that they were accosting me here of all
places really pissed me off. “Tell you what,” I said, stepping back
but still smiling. “When it gets to ten minutes start holding your
breath.”
I gave him a cheery wink and used the index
finger of the hand holding the bottle to point at the Nose. Then I
turned and headed through the tombstones, feeling the heat of their
stares on my back like laser sights.