“Mike,” I said, “it’s way too hot in here. Let’s get out.”
He waved me off, walking away to the far side of the converter.
“What about Hitler?” Mercer asked.
“He wanted to disable the rail service along this route,” Mike said. “He figured he could disrupt troop movements for all the Eastern Seaboard embarkations by bringing the trains to a complete standstill.”
“Grand Central Terminal,” Mercer said. “One-stop shopping.”
He was as fascinated with the giant converters as Mike was.
Don Ledger pointed over at the door through which we had entered. “I’ll tell you this much,” he said. “If anyone unauthorized, so much as peeked through that entrance during World War Two, the orders were to shoot on sight. There were armed soldiers on duty here around the clock.”
I heard footsteps across the room, or thought I did. “What’s that noise?”
“One of the workmen, I assume,” Ledger said.
“Why would they have shot at anyone coming in?” Mercer asked.
“All it would have taken to disable that sucker was a bucket of sand thrown at it. The converter would have come to an immediate stop-they’re very fragile devices, despite their size-which would have brought the trains to a halt. So the orders were not even to let anyone explain the purpose of their visit but simply for the soldiers to take aim and shoot.”
“Did you hear that?” I was looking over my shoulder and then kneeled to peer under the converter, but I couldn’t see anyone.
“What Mr. Ledger just said?” Mercer asked.
“No. There’s someone walking on the far side of the room.”
“You’re so jumpy, Alex. People work in here, girl.”
“Saboteurs,” Mike said, paying me no mind. “They almost made it, didn’t they?”
“Came pretty damn close, too close for my taste,” Ledger said.
“Pay attention, Coop. This is stuff you ought to know.”
“I’m riveted, Mike.” I rolled my eyes at him, then kept looking back to see why the footsteps had died off and why this workman didn’t show himself to us.
“In 1942, a German sub landed four spies on the beach in Amagansett. They were actually intercepted by a young coast guard officer who saw them and questioned what they were up to. One of them, who spoke good English, told him they were fishermen. He didn’t buy the story, but he was unarmed, so he let them go.”
“I had no idea any of them landed on our beaches,” Mercer said.
“The kid called in the news, and the four were arrested a few days later, with all their plans and maps. They were determined to blow up strategic sites, like rail bridges, including the one over Hell Gate.”
“I know you’re trying to get my attention, Mike,” I said, noting his reference to the scene of one of our major investigations, at the point along the East River where the mayor’s residence sat in Manhattan.
“Pastorius.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ll save your butt, Coop. It’ll be a Final Jeopardy! question one of these days and you’ll score big.”
“Not if it’s military. And not if it’s against you.”
“Think long-term. After you dump me.”
Mercer and Mike were examining the machine as we talked.
“Blow me off and that will be sooner than you think.”
“Admiral Canaris,” Mike said.
“Head of German intelligence. The Abwehr,” I said.
“Not as dumb as you look right now, Coop. How about Operation Pastorius?”
“Clueless.”
“Francis Pastorius was the leader of the first German settlement in the US,” Mike said. “So Canaris named his attempt to cripple troop movements and implode the economic system here after Pastorius. It was his hope to target a major transportation hub.”
“World War Two-style terrorism,” Mercer said.
“Yeah,” Mike went on. “Paralyze the trains and put the fear of God in the civilian population.”
I bristled at the sound of someone running, reverberating on the concrete floor.
Don Ledger had heard the noise, too. “Who’s there?”
Mike’s voice was so loud that apparently he hadn’t heard the footsteps that Ledger and I did. Ledger stepped out from behind the large converter and started to retrace his route toward the entrance.
“Mercer,” I said. “There’s someone in here, and Ledger doesn’t like it any more than I do. Don’t let him approach the guy alone.”
Mercer turned on a dime and overtook the older man.
I could see the back of a tall, slim figure dressed in black, a hoodie pulled up on his head, opening the door of M42.
“Who are you?” Ledger called out again.
And just as loud, Mercer yelled for the man to stop.
But the heavy door slammed shut behind him and I was frozen in place, sweat dripping from my pores.
Mercer jogged to the door and pushed on it. “It’s locked.”
“Can’t be,” Ledger said. “The lock’s on the other side.”
Mercer threw his body against the exit, but it didn’t give. He twisted the knob and thrust at it a second time. “It won’t budge.”
“Then he’s barricaded it from the outside,” Ledger said. “He’s locked us in.”
TWENTY-SEVEN
Don Ledger was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall. He had undone his necktie and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt. Not only was he terribly overheated, but he also had a chronic heart condition and was experiencing palpitations.
I was crouched in front of him, wiping his brow with Mercer’s handkerchief. His distress had put my own concerns in perspective.
“We’ll be fine, Mr. Ledger. It’s just the heat and the lack of fresh air. The guys will have you out of here in no time.”
“Water,” he said. “Do any of you have water?”
“We didn’t bring any, sir. Would there be any around?”
“I don’t know. I-I haven’t been down here in months.”
Mike and Mercer had taken turns manipulating the doorknob and trying to dislodge it, but something was holding it in place.
Cell phones were useless. M42 was too far underground and encased in solid steel foundations to get any service. The cords to the receivers of the two in-house phones that were attached to the wall near the exit had been sliced and rendered useless.
“How long till someone misses you, Mr. Ledger?” I asked.
“Nobody misses old men like me. They’ll think I’ve wandered off to cool down in some bigwig’s air-conditioned office.”
Mike was jogging away from me, down the long row of machinery. I assumed he was looking for something he could use as a battering ram, or some other way to contact the world above us.
“Are you okay if I leave you for a couple of minutes?” I asked Ledger.
He held one of his hands out to me. “Do what you have to do, young lady.”
I gripped it tightly and forced a big smile. “Somebody must have to oil one of these converters every now and then. We just need to breathe deep.”
I stood up and watched for a few seconds as he put his hand on his chest, as though to measure his own heartbeats. Then I walked to the next aisle of supersized devices and got out of sight of Ledger before starting to trot in pursuit of Mike.
He heard me coming and turned around to wait. “How’s Ledger?”
“Scared more than anything, I think. He’s anxious and very dry, and he’s mostly feeling guilty that he led us into this desolate basement.”
“There’s a secretary up there, in the office next to his. I’m hoping she starts missing him soon.”
“Then I suppose I should be grateful you flirted with her.”
Mike wiped his forehead with the back of his hand before running his fingers through it. “A little bit long in the tooth for me, but she liked the blarney. I got there before Ledger got in. She clearly has a soft spot for him.”
“Are we screwed here?”
“D’you see the size of this place, Coop? It’s not like we’re going to run out of oxygen.”