Threat Level Black

“I’m just saying that the thing to do would be to wait and watch for a while, see who shows up,” said Fisher. “We don’t have any other leads.”

“We will once we’re inside,” said Kowalski.

“Maybe. Or maybe the place is rigged to blow up when someone walks in the front door.”

“See, that’s where we do things differently than the FBI,” said Kowalski. “We’re blowing a hole through the sidewall.”

“That’s different,” said Fisher.

“We don’t screw around.”

“Kowalski’s right, Andy,” said Macklin. “We can’t afford to sit on this. We have to find out what’s inside.”

“I’m not saying sit on it.” Fisher wouldn’t have liked to admit it, but he was a bit miffed at being called a guest. He prided himself on the fact that he hadn’t been invited to anything since his best friend’s bar mitzvah twenty years ago. “If you want to go in, go through that second-story window up there. Then you can check the place out, make sure there’s no explosives, and get in through the doors.”

“Take too much time,” said Kowalski.

“You already know from the radar it’s empty,” said Fisher. The DIA people had brought in a radar unit that scanned the interior of the building. In addition, they used an infrared viewer and found nothing except for two cats. “And sneaking in would give you the option of setting up a sting.”

“We can still set up a sting,” said Kowalski. “And besides, the DIA doesn’t sneak in anywhere. Neither does Homeland Defense. Right, Macklin?”

Macklin looked at Fisher, then back at Kowalski. “I guess you’re right.”

Sneaking in would have been difficult in any event, as the task force safety officer insisted that the first team in wear full protective gear, in case they actually found something. Fisher thought he detected a certain healthy skepticism in the officer’s remarks, something he hadn’t seen much of from the rest of the task force.

The special tactics people borrowed from New York City took out the door on the loading dock by shooting out the hinges with solid lead shot. Fisher had actually never seen this done and was kind of curious about it, but the protocol called for him to stay far away until the warehouse was actually secured unless he was willing to wear a hazmat suit himself. Since that would have made it difficult to smoke, he passed on the opportunity, contenting himself with watching the team from the video feed in the van. The door seemed to pop off the building, and the men disappeared inside. Ten minutes later it was all clear. Fisher got out of the van and walked the half-block to the place, arriving as the garage-style overhead door at the front of the building was rolled upward.

“There,” said one of the men, pointing to a row of large canisters against the side wall. “That looks like it.”

The tanks were the sort used to hold seltzer water in large soda fountain setups. Fisher walked over and started to inspect one; Macklin, who was wearing a respirator, grabbed him.

“Preliminary hit says they’re filled with liquid sarin,” said Macklin. “A lot worse than that coffee you’re always drinking.”

“Not necessarily,” said Fisher, but he backed away anyway.

Chapter 14

“This is my dream place.”

Alice opened the door and stepped through the landing. Howe followed. The living room to the left was open to the second story, with large windows covering two walls. The woodwork was stained a dark walnut that matched the inlaid pattern in the oak. He followed inside the kitchen-another granite counter-which looked into a breakfast nook and a family room. A large fireplace sat at the far end.

The wine they’d had over dinner, not to mention the conversation, had left him in a mellow mood. Howe followed her through the house: It was a house, not a condominium, and it was for sale, not rent. Her voice echoed through the empty room like faint music, luring him onward.

And her perfume. That, too, was light, almost a suggestion of a scent rather than the smell itself. A flower tickled by the wind.

God, Howe told himself, let’s not go overboard. She’s just showing me apartments.

And houses. One house. Her dream house.

There were four bedrooms upstairs.

“Master bedroom, kids’ room, guest room,” said Alice. “Assuming there’s kids.”

“A lot of rooms.”

Jesus, what a dumb thing to say.

“What do you think? Isn’t it great?” she said when they reached the downstairs landing.

“Yeah,” he said. He didn’t trust his tongue anymore.

“Want to know the price?”

Howe shrugged. “It’s kind of big.”

“He’ll come down, I know.”

He shrugged again.

“One point two.”

“How much?”

“A million two hundred thousand. But he’ll come down. He built it on spec.” She flicked her hair back from her shoulder. “I don’t represent him, so I can tell you this. I know he’d come down a lot.”

“A million dollars. God.”

“Payments would be about what the condo was. Less, depending on the down payment.”

“I don’t know if I have a down payment.”

Alice made a face. “Your company could always loan you the money.”

Howe didn’t answer, though he realized she was probably right.