more organized than this.” The man shook his head. “What unit are you with?”
“I’m liaising with a private security contractor.”
“Jesus, a private contractor? You might as well take a vacation in Hawaii and come back in two weeks.”
“So who are these guys that get to go first?” Fordyce asked.
“NEST, naturally.”
Gideon touched Fordyce’s shoulder and nodded at one of the figures in radiation suits. “Wonder who his haberdasher is?” he murmured.
Fordyce seemed to get the hint. He paused a moment, considering. Then he turned back to Agent Packard. “Where do you get the suits?”
Packard nodded toward another van. “Over there.”
Fordyce grasped his hand. “Thanks, brother.”
As they moved away, Gideon said, “So you’re ready for a little guerrilla action? I mean, those jihadists have a nuke. Two weeks is going to be way too late.”
Fordyce said nothing, simply wending his way through the crowd toward the van. Gideon followed. It was hard to know what the FBI agent was thinking from looking at his stony face.
A changing tent had been set up behind the van, with racks of suits and respirators. Radmeters were fitted to the sleeves of each suit. Fordyce ducked under the canvas barrier and, with Crew in tow, walked up to the racks and began pawing through them.
Immediately a man in a NEST uniform came over. “What’s going on?” he asked.
Fordyce gave him a blue-eyed stare, plucked his shield from the chain around his neck, and almost pushed it into the man’s face. “We need access. Now.”
“Look,” the man said shrilly, “how many times do I have to tell you people, FBI will get its turn?”
Fordyce stared at him. “No FBI have been in there yet? At all?”
“That’s right. NEST has a lot of work to do first.”
“Dart’s group?”
“That’s right. National security protocol in the event of a nuclear emergency says that NEST is the lead agency.”
A long silence. Fordyce had again seemed to shut down. Gideon realized it would be up to him to do whatever it was they had to do to get in; Fordyce was too rule-bound and had too much to lose. Gideon, on the other hand, had nothing at all to lose.
“Thank goodness for that,” said Gideon, taking a suit from the rack and stepping into it. “No wonder Dart was so eager to get us seconded to NEST.”
He found Fordyce’s sapphire stare on him, and he smiled back pleasantly. “Hurry up. You know Dart, he’ll be pissed if we don’t have our report in by dawn.”
The man relaxed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to challenge you, I didn’t realize you’re assigned to NEST.”
“No problem,” said Gideon, eyeing Fordyce and wondering if the special agent was going to get with the program. “Come on, Stone, we don’t have all day.”
Still, the agent hesitated—and then, to Gideon’s relief, began donning his own suit.
“Wait. I’ve got to see your authorization papers. And I’m supposed to help you select your gear.”
Fordyce zipped his suit up the front and bestowed a friendly smile on the man. “Paperwork is on its way. And thanks, but we already know our gear.”
“I’ve got to at least see your temp ID.”
“You’re going to make me take this off to show you an ID?”
“Well, gotta see ID.”
Fordyce smiled, put a hand on the fellow’s shoulder. “What’s your name, son?”
“Ramirez.”
“Hand me those respirators, Ramirez.”
Ramirez handed him the respirators. Fordyce handed one to Gideon.
Gideon took it. “Dart authorized us personally. If you have any questions, call him.”
Ramirez was still looking at Fordyce. “Well, Dart doesn’t like to be disturbed—”
Fordyce fitted the respirator to his face, which effectively cut off his ability to communicate with Ramirez. Gideon followed suit. He saw that the respirator was fitted with a small radio transmitter. He flicked it on, set it to a private channel, indicated for Fordyce to do the same.
“You read, Fordyce?”
“Loud
“I’m liaising with a private security contractor.”
“Jesus, a private contractor? You might as well take a vacation in Hawaii and come back in two weeks.”
“So who are these guys that get to go first?” Fordyce asked.
“NEST, naturally.”
Gideon touched Fordyce’s shoulder and nodded at one of the figures in radiation suits. “Wonder who his haberdasher is?” he murmured.
Fordyce seemed to get the hint. He paused a moment, considering. Then he turned back to Agent Packard. “Where do you get the suits?”
Packard nodded toward another van. “Over there.”
Fordyce grasped his hand. “Thanks, brother.”
As they moved away, Gideon said, “So you’re ready for a little guerrilla action? I mean, those jihadists have a nuke. Two weeks is going to be way too late.”
Fordyce said nothing, simply wending his way through the crowd toward the van. Gideon followed. It was hard to know what the FBI agent was thinking from looking at his stony face.
A changing tent had been set up behind the van, with racks of suits and respirators. Radmeters were fitted to the sleeves of each suit. Fordyce ducked under the canvas barrier and, with Crew in tow, walked up to the racks and began pawing through them.
Immediately a man in a NEST uniform came over. “What’s going on?” he asked.
Fordyce gave him a blue-eyed stare, plucked his shield from the chain around his neck, and almost pushed it into the man’s face. “We need access. Now.”
“Look,” the man said shrilly, “how many times do I have to tell you people, FBI will get its turn?”
Fordyce stared at him. “No FBI have been in there yet? At all?”
“That’s right. NEST has a lot of work to do first.”
“Dart’s group?”
“That’s right. National security protocol in the event of a nuclear emergency says that NEST is the lead agency.”
A long silence. Fordyce had again seemed to shut down. Gideon realized it would be up to him to do whatever it was they had to do to get in; Fordyce was too rule-bound and had too much to lose. Gideon, on the other hand, had nothing at all to lose.
“Thank goodness for that,” said Gideon, taking a suit from the rack and stepping into it. “No wonder Dart was so eager to get us seconded to NEST.”
He found Fordyce’s sapphire stare on him, and he smiled back pleasantly. “Hurry up. You know Dart, he’ll be pissed if we don’t have our report in by dawn.”
The man relaxed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to challenge you, I didn’t realize you’re assigned to NEST.”
“No problem,” said Gideon, eyeing Fordyce and wondering if the special agent was going to get with the program. “Come on, Stone, we don’t have all day.”
Still, the agent hesitated—and then, to Gideon’s relief, began donning his own suit.
“Wait. I’ve got to see your authorization papers. And I’m supposed to help you select your gear.”
Fordyce zipped his suit up the front and bestowed a friendly smile on the man. “Paperwork is on its way. And thanks, but we already know our gear.”
“I’ve got to at least see your temp ID.”
“You’re going to make me take this off to show you an ID?”
“Well, gotta see ID.”
Fordyce smiled, put a hand on the fellow’s shoulder. “What’s your name, son?”
“Ramirez.”
“Hand me those respirators, Ramirez.”
Ramirez handed him the respirators. Fordyce handed one to Gideon.
Gideon took it. “Dart authorized us personally. If you have any questions, call him.”
Ramirez was still looking at Fordyce. “Well, Dart doesn’t like to be disturbed—”
Fordyce fitted the respirator to his face, which effectively cut off his ability to communicate with Ramirez. Gideon followed suit. He saw that the respirator was fitted with a small radio transmitter. He flicked it on, set it to a private channel, indicated for Fordyce to do the same.
“You read, Fordyce?”
“Loud
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