But when I saw Khalil, he was alone. So if he had accomplices, where were they? Disposing of the bodies? Or did Khalil, true to his M.O., kill them, too?
And all of this brought me back to what had been on my mind all week. Did Khalil have something else planned? Based on just what I saw in the apartment on 72nd Street, Khalil obviously had accomplices and resources here, so he probably had a favor to repay. And what was it? And was it still in the works?
Kate interrupted my thoughts to ask me what I was thinking about.
"Khalil's big finale."
She stayed quiet awhile, then said, "If… if there was supposed to be a finale… maybe whatever was going to happen is not going to happen now that he's dead."
I'd thought about that, and it was possible. But if something big was going to happen-like a car bomb or an anthrax attack from a crop duster-and if somebody like Al Qaeda was behind it, did they need Asad Khalil to pull it off?
Kate said, "I think we talked ourselves into this possibility."
"Do you really think so?" I said to her, "Boris thought it was possible."
"Why don't you get some rest?"
A nurse came in with painkillers. I didn't like these things the last time I was in the hospital with daylight coming through three holes in my body, so Dom Fanelli would bring me a colorless and odorless painkiller made in Poland, which did the trick. But I didn't argue and I put them in my mouth, drank some water, then when she left I spit them out.
Kate said, "You have to take those."
"No pain, no brain."
I started to realize that maybe I should have asked the asshole himself what was up. He wasn't going to tell me when I was beating the shit out of him-but he might have told me when he thought I was as good as dead. He would have said, "I am glad you asked me about that, Mr. Corey. And I will tell you because"-big laugh here-"dead men tell no tales."
Okay. What?
I raised my bed a little more and could feel the sutures pulling in my back. I closed my eyes and got my brain in gear. Something had struck me as odd-or out of place-at the WTC site, and it was now coming back to me.
The tire marks. They were fresh.
That semi had been driven into that site sometime on Sunday. Do they make deliveries to a security zone on a Sunday? I recalled late one night-maybe during the week, maybe a weekend-seeing trucks parked with the drivers bedded down in their sleeping compartment, waiting for the gates to open.
Therefore… why would the PA cops let this tractor-trailer through the gates on a Sunday night? Well, maybe because they were dead.
CARLINO MASONRY SUPPLIES
The masonry supply thing wasn't quite right either. They weren't pouring concrete yet, and there were no cement mixers on the site. And if they were delivering something like steel mesh or rebars, they'd use a flatbed truck. So what was in that big trailer?
And why did Khalil choose the WTC site to meet me? Well, for the symbolism, as he'd said. I get it… but…
I sat up. "Holy shit."
"John? Are you all right?"
"No."
"What's the matter?"
"Hold on." I was pretty sure I knew what was in that trailer-and I knew, too, it hadn't blown yet, because if it had, I'd have heard it, and even felt it, here, three miles away.
I reached for the phone on the nightstand, and Kate asked me, "Who are you calling?"
"The Ops Center-no, Walsh. He's probably still at the site."
"John-"
Walsh's cell phone went into voice mail-he didn't recognize the number, or it came up "Bellevue" and he knew only two people there, and he probably didn't want to speak to one of them.
I was about to dial the Ops Center, but I got into crazy mode and pulled the tubes and wires out of me. Kate went a little nuts and started yelling, then tried to push the nurse's call button, but I pulled it out of her hand, slid out of bed, and said to her, "Let's go."
"What-?"
I took her arm, and as I moved her toward the door, I said, "You're getting me out of here."
She pulled her arm back and said, "No. John-"
"Trust me. I'll explain. Come on."
She looked at me, then said in a calming voice, "Stay here, John, and I'll get you some clothes."
I looked at my watch, but it was gone. I asked her, "What time is it?"
She glanced at her watch and said, "It's 8:05. You stay here-"
"Kate, at 8:46 A.M., the time when the first plane hit the North Tower, a very large bomb will detonate at the World Trade Center site."
She stared at me, and she looked frightened-not about the bomb, but about me.
So to get this moving, I lied, "Khalil told me this when he thought he was going to kill me."
"Oh my God…"
"Let's go. You got your cell phone?"
She grabbed her purse, and we hurried out the door.
The other side of the ward was for the criminally insane, and I didn't want to wind up there, so I tried to look nonchalant as we passed quickly through the ward filled with guards from the Department of Corrections.
We got to the security checkpoint and almost got through, but a big DOC guy stopped us. It must have been my hospital pajamas and slipper socks that caught his attention.
Kate went into full FBI mode, flashed her creds, and made it clear to the guy that this was none of his business.
He backed off, and we were out in the corridor.
We got on an elevator and she asked me, "Where are we going?"
"Ground Zero. Let me have your phone." I dialed Walsh. I knew he always took Kate's call, but he got me instead, which confused and disappointed him.
He said, "John… good to hear from you. I was going to-"
"Tom, listen to me-"
"We are so sorry about Vince-"
I lost the call in the elevator, and I said to Kate, "When we get outside, commandeer an ambulance."
She nodded.
The elevator reached the lobby, and Kate moved quickly toward the First Avenue exit as I redialed Walsh and followed her.
Tom answered again and said, "Kate told me you were resting comfortably and I just want to say-"
"Tom, shut up and listen to me." That shut him up, and I said, slowly and clearly with calm urgency in my voice, "Asad Khalil, when he thought he was going to kill me, told me that there was a bomb planted at the WTC site-"
"What?"
I could hear engine noises in the background, and I asked him, "Are you still there?"
"Yes."
"I think the bomb is in the big semi there-Carlino Masonry Supplies. Do you see it?"
"I'm… standing next to…"
"You might want to move. But before you do that, call the Bomb Squad ASAP. Then get everyone the hell out of there-that is a very big truck."
Silence.
I walked out of the lobby, and the guard at the door said to me, "Hey! Where you goin'?"
Walsh asked, "John… are you sure about this?"
Very good question. And the answer was no, but I said, "Yes."
The guard was speaking to me, but I waved him off. Where the hell was Kate?
Walsh was saying, "The trailer is locked."
By now, Tom Walsh was probably thirty blocks away, so I wondered how he knew that. I said, "Yes, it would be locked, Tom." I hesitated, then said, "I think-think it's set to-"
The guard had another guard with him now, and they wanted me to go inside with them. I said to them, "I'm waiting for an ambulance." I said to Walsh, "It's set to go off at 8:46 A.M."
He didn't ask why I thought that, because that time is burned into everyone's mind.
There was another silence on the phone, and I thought I'd lost him, but then he said, "That's thirty-one minutes… I don't think we can evacuate this area-"
"Try. Meanwhile, evacuate the site and get the area cordoned off. Call the Bomb Squad."