The Titanic Plan by Michael Bockman, Ron Freeman

chief military aide to the President of the United States. You can’t just kidnap me off the street.”
    “ I can and I did, Captain.”
    “ You could have just called me.”
    “ I don’t think so. The Feds have a keen interest in me. I believe you and the Attorney General have already had a chat in that regards.”
    There was some sort of game being played, Archie thought, though he had no idea what it was. “He said you were responsible for the explosion at the Astor’s home last New Year’s Eve.”
    Mick grinned slyly, hearing the accusation.
    “ And…were you?” Archie asked.
    “ No. The Attorney General was mistaken. A furnace blew up. Everyone knows that. It was printed in the papers. Page one, New York Times.”
    “ The papers don’t always get it right.”
    “ In this case, they did. I’ve never lied to you, Captain. If I’m responsible for a subversive action, I’ll be right square about it.”
    “ Then why are they interested in you?”
    “ That is an excellent question. Come on, let’s go for a little stroll.” Mick took Archie’s arm and led him to a door behind his desk. He opened it and gentlemanly gestured for Archie to go first. Archie hesitated. “This won’t take long,” Mick said. “I know you have a train to catch back to Washington this evening.”
    He knows too much , Archie thought, stepping behind Mick into a stairwell whose walls smelled of sour ammonia. They climbed two flights then Mick swung open the door. The clamor and stench hit Archie like a hammer. Clots of people were crowded in the hallway. Babies were screaming, children screeching, women yelling, men shouting – it was a symphony of human dissonance. The smell was a sulfurous blend of gas, greasy food, human waste, cigarette smoke, sweat, grime and fetid garbage. Archie grew queasy.
    “ A little different from the Morgan Library, yes Captain?”
    How did he know I was at the Morgan library this morning?
    Mick started talking as he led Archie down the hallway. “There’s no heating in the building so they come into the hallway for warmth. They stand together to generate heat. It beats freezing to death.”
    Stepping into the horde, Mick was met by a large, red-faced woman leaning against a wall, feeding twins, one on each breast. “Mornin’ to ya, Mick,” she squawked.
    “ You look radiant today, Mae,” Mick answered.
    “ Two babes suckin’ at m’tits keeps me flamed.” Archie smelled a noxious combination of garlic and whisky on her breath.
    Pushing his way down the hall, Mick was greeted by the wretched collection of rag and bone people like a local prince. “Hiya, Mick,” “Happy day to ya,” “Top of the mornin,” “God bless ya, Mick.” An emaciated old man with a long white beard and a face so creased he looked like some medieval gargoyle, lifted a clawed hand to his brow and delivered a palsied salute. Mick saluted crisply back.
    To Archie it was like being jostled through one of Dante’s circles of hell, except these people seemed relatively accepting of their infernal conditions. At the end of the hallway Mick pushed open two windows that led to a fire escape. He flicked his head, inviting Archie to step out on the rusting iron platform. Archie found the blast of chilled air comforting relief after the suffocating atmosphere inside.
    “ A bit stuffy in there, wouldn’t you say?” asked Mick.
    “ What are you doing here, Mick? You’re a decorated solider.”
    “ Actually, there were several other decorated soldiers in that hallway. I should have introduced you, soldier to soldier”
    Archie grew irked by Mick’s glibness. “Tell me what you want and I’ll be on my way.”
    “ What do you see on that street, Captain?”
    Archie looked down to a sprawl of people, most of them dressed in threadbare clothes, moving like a single, giant insect up and back along the crowded sidewalks, trying to keep warm.
    “ This floor we walked down is only one squalid floor in one ramshackle