time, you're the sadist."
"But you're so Aryan, such a monster!" Rosario joked. "I thought you'd actually fry the kid if I didn't work something out. But a softhearted old Latin like me... he knows too well!"
Lyons looked at his watch. Thirty-eight hours, twenty minutes. He glanced out at Bernardo. "If he won't take you to meet his commander, then we have to get the man's name from him. Whatever it takes. Whatever has to happen."
In the silence of the warehouse, the three boys' Spanish echoed. Finally, Bernardo returned to them. He nodded.
They went to the steel door, shoved it open. As Bernardo followed Blancanales out, Lyons stopped him. He put his fist against the boy's chest.
"My friend comes back. You understand? Do you understand me?"
"Entiendo."
He snipped the wire from the boy's wrists. Lyons waited until they walked around the corner, then sprinted to the waiting taxi, abandoning the securely tied Manuel and Carlos.
"You saw them?"
"Following!" The cabbie whipped a turn, accelerated.
"No need to stay close, I've got D.F.'s and mini-mikes on my partner. And give me the phone."
Lyons dialed for Gadgets, got him on the first ring. "Hardman Two's out and running. The boy said he'll take him to his commander."
"How's the signal?" Gadgets asked.
"Checking." Lyons held the phone hand-set under his chin, pulled the directional finder out of his pocket, flicked the switch. A steady beep-beep-beep-beep sounded for a moment, then fell off, the intervals between pulses becoming longer.
"Up ahead," the cabbie called back to Lyons. "They just took off in a taxi. How much distance do you want me to hold?"
"Keep them in sight, but keep traffic between you and them. If they make a turn and we miss it, we can pick them up with the D.F."
"What about the minimikes?" Gadgets asked.
"Just a second! I'm doing three things at once." Lyons switched on the receiver. Faint voices in English and Spanish came from the speaker. "Can hardly hear it. How close do we need to be?"
"Depends. How much concrete between them and you, how much other electronic activity. Play it by ear, as they say."
"Are you free? Can you get in a mobile unit?"
"You think you need me right now?"
"Hey, Hardman Two's going right into the mouth of the beast. He needs all the back-up he can get."
"On my way!"
Lyons broke the connection and dialed Agent Smith, his driver and liaison man. "Where are you? What kind of car you got now?"
"At the intersection of Broadway and Fourth. I'm driving a red ten-year-old Dodge. I'm wearing white painter's coveralls."
"Be ready to move. You got my box of magnums?"
"Yes, sir. What's going on? Sounds like things are getting hot."
"Hot? My partner's walking into hell. And we're going in two steps behind him."
7
Turning every few seconds to scan the traffic behind them, Bernardo gave the cab driver directions that weaved through the financial district. At one corner, the NYPD's phony power company barriers were up. The WorldFiCor was only a block away.
Blancanales looked past the barricade, saw a utility vehicle. There were no workers in the truck. Further up the street, two men in utility workmen's uniforms leaned against a parked car. Two men in suits sat in the front seat of the car. Blancanales looked over at Bernardo, watched him. But Bernardo only glanced at the barricade and told the driver to make another turn.
Several blocks later, they stopped for a traffic light at the edge of Chinatown. The cab driver turned to Bernardo and asked him, "Boy, do you know where you're going? Is someone following you? Are you looking for someone? What's going on with you?"
"It does not concern you," Bernardo snapped. "You're a driver, drive!"
"Sure, kid. Anywhere you want."
"Stop!" Bernardo shouted. "We get out here." He gave the driver a 10-dollar bill, and they walked through traffic to the sidewalk.
Bernardo scanned the cars and trucks passing them, then led Blancanales across the intersection. Again, he watched the
"But you're so Aryan, such a monster!" Rosario joked. "I thought you'd actually fry the kid if I didn't work something out. But a softhearted old Latin like me... he knows too well!"
Lyons looked at his watch. Thirty-eight hours, twenty minutes. He glanced out at Bernardo. "If he won't take you to meet his commander, then we have to get the man's name from him. Whatever it takes. Whatever has to happen."
In the silence of the warehouse, the three boys' Spanish echoed. Finally, Bernardo returned to them. He nodded.
They went to the steel door, shoved it open. As Bernardo followed Blancanales out, Lyons stopped him. He put his fist against the boy's chest.
"My friend comes back. You understand? Do you understand me?"
"Entiendo."
He snipped the wire from the boy's wrists. Lyons waited until they walked around the corner, then sprinted to the waiting taxi, abandoning the securely tied Manuel and Carlos.
"You saw them?"
"Following!" The cabbie whipped a turn, accelerated.
"No need to stay close, I've got D.F.'s and mini-mikes on my partner. And give me the phone."
Lyons dialed for Gadgets, got him on the first ring. "Hardman Two's out and running. The boy said he'll take him to his commander."
"How's the signal?" Gadgets asked.
"Checking." Lyons held the phone hand-set under his chin, pulled the directional finder out of his pocket, flicked the switch. A steady beep-beep-beep-beep sounded for a moment, then fell off, the intervals between pulses becoming longer.
"Up ahead," the cabbie called back to Lyons. "They just took off in a taxi. How much distance do you want me to hold?"
"Keep them in sight, but keep traffic between you and them. If they make a turn and we miss it, we can pick them up with the D.F."
"What about the minimikes?" Gadgets asked.
"Just a second! I'm doing three things at once." Lyons switched on the receiver. Faint voices in English and Spanish came from the speaker. "Can hardly hear it. How close do we need to be?"
"Depends. How much concrete between them and you, how much other electronic activity. Play it by ear, as they say."
"Are you free? Can you get in a mobile unit?"
"You think you need me right now?"
"Hey, Hardman Two's going right into the mouth of the beast. He needs all the back-up he can get."
"On my way!"
Lyons broke the connection and dialed Agent Smith, his driver and liaison man. "Where are you? What kind of car you got now?"
"At the intersection of Broadway and Fourth. I'm driving a red ten-year-old Dodge. I'm wearing white painter's coveralls."
"Be ready to move. You got my box of magnums?"
"Yes, sir. What's going on? Sounds like things are getting hot."
"Hot? My partner's walking into hell. And we're going in two steps behind him."
7
Turning every few seconds to scan the traffic behind them, Bernardo gave the cab driver directions that weaved through the financial district. At one corner, the NYPD's phony power company barriers were up. The WorldFiCor was only a block away.
Blancanales looked past the barricade, saw a utility vehicle. There were no workers in the truck. Further up the street, two men in utility workmen's uniforms leaned against a parked car. Two men in suits sat in the front seat of the car. Blancanales looked over at Bernardo, watched him. But Bernardo only glanced at the barricade and told the driver to make another turn.
Several blocks later, they stopped for a traffic light at the edge of Chinatown. The cab driver turned to Bernardo and asked him, "Boy, do you know where you're going? Is someone following you? Are you looking for someone? What's going on with you?"
"It does not concern you," Bernardo snapped. "You're a driver, drive!"
"Sure, kid. Anywhere you want."
"Stop!" Bernardo shouted. "We get out here." He gave the driver a 10-dollar bill, and they walked through traffic to the sidewalk.
Bernardo scanned the cars and trucks passing them, then led Blancanales across the intersection. Again, he watched the
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