Maddy smiled, surprised … and not a little impressed with computer-Bob. ‘Sal’s been teaching you more naughty words, hasn’t she?’
› Affirmative.
CHAPTER 19
2001, New York
‘What’re you doing, Jim?’
His friend looked up from the computer terminal and rolled his eyes. He’d undone the top button of his NYPD uniform tunic and rolled his sleeves up. Jim looked like a man who’d already clocked off shift and gone home. Only, of course, he hadn’t.
‘That fruitcake we picked up earlier in Chinatown just went and generated a bunch of paperwork for me.’
Bill slumped down in his chair, facing him over their paired-up back-to-back desks. ‘What’s he gone and done now? I thought we were holding him overnight with a caution?’
Jim scratched his nose with a pen, then ran a hand through his buzzcut blond hair. ‘Stupid idiot went and said some crazy stuff about the Twin Towers comin’ down. Said they was goin’ to explode an’ all.’ He sighed. ‘Which means with the FBI’s Threat Alert system on Amber, fer crissakes — ’ he shrugged — ‘I gotta go log it all in.’
‘Mind you …’ Bill shook his head. ‘He said a whole bunch of other crazy stuff too … What was it?’
Jim chuckled. ‘Oh, you mean that he’s gonna be the president one day, that he’s been transported through time from 1830-whatever by a bunch of time-travellin’ kids … or somethin’?’
Bill nodded. ‘And that name? Like something out of the Bible. Abraham Landon?’ He checked the screen in front of him. ‘Lincoln … Abraham no-middle-name Lincoln.’
They looked at each other for a moment before Jim finally spoke. ‘Stupid goddarn name, uh? You see us ever havin’ a president with a dumb-soundin’ name like that?’
Bill shook his head. ‘Not with that funny way he talks. Like a southern gentleman … like a pastor, a firebrand preacher or somethin’. Know what I mean? Tell you what, though, man, I can almost believe the crazy son-of-a-gun just stepped out of the Wild West.’
Jim looked up at him. ‘What? You trying to say he isn’t a crazy loon needs lockin’ up in a room with no hard edges?’
Bill snorted. ‘Nope, I’m sayin’ he could make a nice buck doin’ Crazy Preacher-o-grams.’
‘Yeah, right… Like that’s the first thing you gonna order for your pal’s bachelor night, uh?’
‘Come on, man, finish up … let some FBI pencil-neck go figure it out.’
Jim nodded, pecking out a few more words on the keyboard before finally slapping a heavy hand on the desk. ‘Done!’
Bill grinned. ‘One for the road, my man?’
‘A beer? Sure. But just the one. Don’t wanna — ’
‘Don’t wanna keep yer mamma up,’ parroted Bill with a well-worn smile. Same lame ol’ line. ‘Problem with you, Jim, ol’ buddy, is you need to come up with some new one-liners.’
‘Yeah? Or what? You gonna go find some other dumb sucker to partner up with?’
They weaved their way out of the deserted precinct office, all cubicles and desks piled high with sitting paperwork.
‘Now you know me better than that, Jim … You an’ me, we’re like an ol’ married couple.’
‘Gross,’ Jim muttered as he grabbed his coat and kitbag. ‘Now I got a goddarn picture in my head gonna give me nightmares tonight.’
CHAPTER 20
2001, New York
The sound of the cell door being unlocked and wrenched open roused Lincoln from his sleep. Bleary-eyed, he blinked back the glare of morning light spilling in through the slit window and looked up from the bunk at three men in dark suits crowding into the cell and staring down at him.
‘Abraham Lincoln?’
He rubbed his tired eyes and lifted himself off the pillow on to one elbow. ‘Yes, that is I.’
‘You will come with us, please.’ A dry emotionless voice.
Lincoln pulled himself up to a seated position and swung his legs off the bunk. His bare feet touched the cold floor. ‘Gentlemen,’ he started, ‘I have done nothing to deserve being incarcerated like this! Being treated like a — ’
‘Sir, you will put on your shoes and come with us now.’
Lincoln’s face clouded with anger. ‘I will do no such thing, sir! Not until I receive, at the very least, an apology for — ’
‘All right,’ said one of the suits, his lips barely moving. ‘Cuff this scumbag.’
The other two fell on him like a ton of breeze blocks, pinning him down on the bunk as he squirmed and thrashed beneath their weight.
‘THIS … IS … AN … OUTRAGE!’ he barked. ‘HOW DARE YOU — ’
‘Save it for later, pal,’ grunted one of the men lying on top of him, fumbling for his wrists. ‘You’re in for a world of hurt, buddy,’ said the other. ‘You filthy, murdering, terrorist sc-!’
‘Agent Belling, best keep your feelings to yourself, son. While you’re on FBI time, I expect a certain level of professionalism.’
‘Sorry, sir.’
‘Now, get him up.’
Between them the two men in suits hefted Lincoln off the bunk and turned him to face the third.
‘THIS IS A TRAVESTY — ’
‘I’d advise you to keep your mouth firmly shut, Mr Lincoln. Emotions are running very high this morning and the last thing me and my boys need to hear coming out of your mouth right now is a whole load of attitude.’
‘I INSIST YOU TELL ME — ’
‘A few minues ago a second plane just impacted with the other tower. ‘Last night you were logged making a claim the World Trade Center was coming down this morning.’
Lincoln frowned. ‘Those two tall towers? Yes I — ’
‘A few minutes ago a second plane just impacted with the other tower.’ The FBI agent’s jaw set firmly. ‘You’re either a prophet … or a terrorist. Either way, we’ve got a whole bunch of questions for you.’
He stepped backwards from the cell into the corridor. The other two men shuffled out of the cell with Lincoln wedged between them. ‘You’ve just been signed over to FBI custody.’ He smiled coolly. ‘Your sorry, murdering, terrorist, scumbag butt is ours now.’
Maddy turned to the others, standing together on the forecourt outside the precinct station. ‘All right, it’s half past nine. I guess there’ll be some police clerical staff at their desks by now who can sign a release form for us.’
She looked at Liam, Sal, Bob and Becks. ‘So … Liam, you come with me. The rest of you, just … just stay here.’
‘But what if they won’t let him go?’ asked Liam. He opened his mouth again and was about to point to both support units, Bob reaching inside an old mackintosh he was wearing to pull Foster’s old shotgun from the waistband of his trousers. Quite clearly eager to bring the thing out of retirement and use it once again.
‘No! We’re not shooting this place up! I said that already. If they say no, then we’ll just have to figure something else out.’ She pointed up at the sky, where a solitary column of dark smoke arced across the cloudless blue morning. ‘See that? Everyone’s watching the news. Everyone’s watching nine-eleven unfold. People are angry and very, very frightened … and that includes the cops. As far as they know, right now, this could be the first of a whole wave of terrorist attacks.’
She took a fluttering edgy breath. Nervous. ‘The last thing we want to do this morning is kick up a disturbance, OK?’
Liam shrugged. ‘All right.’
She reached out and grabbed his arm. ‘Come on.’
They climbed a couple of steps off the pavement and crossed a small forecourt that would normally have been filled with patrol cars and police bikes. Pretty much all of them were out this morning. Crowd control. Panic control.
They stepped in through swing doors and ahead of them was a counter and a thick panel of perspex behind which two female uniformed officers and several plainclothes officers stood, all of them staring at a small portable TV perched on the corner of one of the desks beyond.