Threat Level Black Read Free Page B

day.
    Kowalski put his head inside the small fridge at the side of the kitchenette. “You got stuff growing in here.”
    “Penicillin. Saves on doctor bills.”
    “God,” said Kowalski as he adjusted his coffee. “This is almost drinkable.”
    “If I’d known you were coming I would’ve gone all the way.”
    Fisher walked into the other half of the apartment, pausing over a pair of card tables that served as his combination dresser and entertainment center. He took his watch, wallet, and Bureau credentials off the ancient Philco TV, then examined his gun, a .44 Magnum nearly as old as the black-and-white TV set and arguably only half as deadly.
    “So, how much do you know about the E-bomb?” asked Kowalski.
    “I don’t know anything,” said Fisher.
    “I heard Macklin called you in to consult.”
    “He called me in to look at a computer video of New York City blowing up. He thought I’d be nostalgic,” said Fisher.
    “Homeland Security is peeing in their pants,” said Kowalski. There was a note of triumph in his voice. “So you coming aboard or what?”
    “I’m not doing anything unless they roll back the cigarette tax,” said Fisher. “Why are you here?”
    “Because we’re the ones who came up with the intelligence on the E-bomb in the first place. Macklin didn’t tell you I was the guy who figured it out?”
    “No. But probably he had trouble putting your name and the word intelligence together in the same conversation.”
    “We’re putting together a joint task force. Homeland Security. DIA. And you.”
    “Me?”
    “We can use somebody for comic relief.”
    “I’m too old to run away and join the circus.”
    “Listen, Andy, this is going to develop into a big one. When we bust this, we’ll be on 60 Minutes.”
    Fisher thought he detected a smirk from Kowalski’s taller sidekick. There was hope for the country yet.
    “You really do want to join up,” added Kowalski. “I told Macklin it was a great idea. That’s why I’m here.”
    Fisher took the cigarette butt down to the nub, then put it out in a glass of water in the pile of dirty dishes in the sink. Under ordinary circumstances he would have left it there, but since he had company he thought it best to keep up appearances: He leaned over to the nearby window and tossed the butt down into the alley.
    “So? You in or out?” asked Kowalski.
    “Boss promised me a nice Internet porn case if I show up for work before noon today.”
    “Internet porn? Come on. That’s not your style. You’re a high-tech guy. National security. Lives on the line. Not T & A.”
    “Nothing wrong with a little T & A now and again,” observed Fisher.
    “Seriously, Andy. Come on. Macklin wants you. I want you. We could use some help determining if this thing is real or not.”
    “No, thanks.”
    “Could be a career boost. Jump in pay—get you into some upscale digs.”
    “This place isn’t upscale?” Fisher spread his hands around his domain. “Listen, I have to get going. Thanks for the wake-up call. But I got a question for you.”
    “Yeah?”
    “A serious question.”
    “Shoot.”
    “How come you used the salad dressing instead of milk in your coffee?”

Chapter
6

    Howe handed his entire wallet to the Secret Service agent, letting him examine his license even though his ID had been checked twice before and he already knew his name was on the list of visitors. He’d been to the West Wing of the White House only once before, and that time he had been accompanied by a high-ranking assistant to Blitz, Howard McIntyre, who’d smoothed him past all the security hoops and barriers. It was somewhat different this time around. To the men checking his ID he was just another name on the list. Howe thought he liked it that way.
    The agent pointed at him and gestured to the side of the hallway. Howe stepped over to the wall, unsure of what was going on, but he wasn’t being singled out for a search and there was nothing wrong with his