Crush Depth Read Free Page B

cleared his throat. “They want us on the first train in the morning to Washington.”
    Ilse almost groaned. “How come?”
    “A debriefing at the Pentagon. More brass desire to hear of our recent adventures.”
    “Again?”
    “It’s an overnight trip this time. We’ll need to pack.”
    “Why train? That’ll be slow.”
    “No flights available on such short notice. Travel restrictions, Ilse, aviation-fuel shortages…There’s a war on.”
    “Don’t we deserve a priority?”
    “Last-minute changes like that raise eyebrows, draw attention, compromise security. This time we blend with the crowd on mass transit.”
    “What time’s the train?”
    “Six-fifteen.”
    “How do you want to get over there? Shuttle van, or the water taxi?” The local railroad station was on the other side of the river.
    “Water taxi. The aide said they’ll hold spaces. A messenger’ll meet us with our travel documents.”
    “It’ll be freezing out on the Thames,” Ilse said.
    “Yup, but at least we won’t miss the train. Have you seen the traffic on I-95?…I don’t trust the bridge. They’re still repairing the damage.” From a German high-explosive cruise missile raid, before Christmas.
    “Won’t there be ice on the river, in this weather?”
    “The tug can get through fine. The snow’s supposed toclear by morning. Colder, but clearing and sunny. A good day for travel.”
    “Reset the alarm for four, will you? I need time to pack.” Ilse heard Jeffrey handling the alarm clock.
    “Come back to bed,” Ilse said. “Gawd, less than three hours’ sleep. Barring more interruptions, that is.”
    “Business as usual,” Jeffrey said. “You can nap on the train.” It was a five-hour trip, with the Acela electrified service. They’d be in the Pentagon by noon.
    Jeffrey got under the blanket and held Ilse close, and this time didn’t ask her awkward questions. Soon, by his deep, steady breathing, she could tell he was asleep.
    Ilse thought of the last time she’d made love to Jan, wildly and with carnal abandon, when she still thought she could trust him, before her whole world came unglued. She stared into the dark for a very long time, hating all wars and all warriors.
    Next day, on the way to Washington, D.C.
    Jeffrey glanced at Ilse snoozing next to him in the window seat. Then he gazed out as the New York City skyline loomed gradually larger. Their train was running late. It was already well past noon, and they were only now approaching Manhattan. Jeffrey was starving—the snack bar car had run out of everything hours ago, in large part because of food shortages nationwide.
    After Jeffrey’s train entered the railroad tunnel under New York’s East River, the lights went out and the engineer braked to a halt. The powerless electric locomotive had to be pulled the rest of the way into Penn Station by a noisy, smelly diesel switching engine. Jeffrey found it strange that in the station, though the trains sitting on every track were dark and empty, the platforms were well lit.
    Jeffrey looked up as a conductor came through the car. He told everybody to get off the train. Jeffrey nudged Ilse gently. She stirred.
    Like all the other passengers, Jeffrey and Ilse grabbed their coats and luggage and gas-mask satchels, and took the stairs to the waiting room. It was wall-to-wall people, passing rumors and complaining, a continuous babbling din. Every train on the schedule board read DELAYED INDEFINITELY .
    The stationmaster came on the loudspeakers. He said the railroad’s power and signals and switching systems in the entire northeast had suffered a massive Axis information-warfare attack. It would take hours to restore service. Computer programs had failed in a cascade, and it was complicated to find and then stamp out the viruses and test everything—and safety had to come first. He said that a USO club was in Times Square, not far. All passengers should report back to the station by 9 P.M .
    Jeffrey heard a