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Chip was behind the wheel of the Chevy SUV, Ben was in front riding shotgun, and Cassy was in the backseat cradling the laptop, as they headed over the Brooklyn Bridge across the river to lower Manhattan. Traffic was nearly nonexistent at this hour, so they made good time.

They got off at Park Row and headed south on Broadway, switching over to Nassau a couple of blocks later.

One block up from the Burnham Pike building, Chip slowed down. Several police cars, their lights flashing, were parked on the street in front of the bank, along with a plain gray Ford sedan with U.S. government plates.

“They’re expecting us,” Ben said. “Keep going, don’t stop.”

“We’ve got to get into the building. Downstairs to my station in DCSS,” Cassy said, sitting forward.

“I’ll try first, and if I’m arrested, which I think will happen, Chip can call the admiral,” Ben said. “As soon as some strings are pulled, and I’m released, you guys can pick me up, and we’ll go in together.”

“We don’t have a lot of time,” Cassy said. “It’s after four already.”

“It won’t do us any good if they arrest you and take the laptop,” Ben said.

They passed the BP tower, and a half a block later Chip turned left on John Street and pulled up.

“No matter what, stay here,” Ben told Cassy.

He and Chip got out of the car and went back to the corner.

“I’m going on alone,” Ben said. “If it’s all clear, I’ll wave you guys in. But if I’m taken, get the hell away and call Huggard.”

“Will do,” Chip said.

“The clock is ticking,” Ben said, and he crossed the street and headed down Nassau to the building and the waiting police and Bureau cars.


Sergeant Adams stood next to a police car talking to a uniformed cop and two men in blue nylon jackets with FBI stenciled in yellow as Ben approached.

One of the Bureau agents said something to the sergeant, who turned around and smiled.

“Here’s the tough guy back for the second round,” Adams said.

“I need to get inside and talk to Mr. Treadwell,” Ben said. “He’s expecting me.”

“Turn around and give me your wrists,” Adams said, pulling a set of handcuffs from a belt pouch.

Ben did as he was told. “Won’t be long and the mayor will know you personally.”

Adams leaned in close. “Careful that you’re not shot while resisting arrest and trying to escape.”