10:09 A.M.
THE CARLYLE
MADISON AVENUE
NEW YORK CITY
Igor looked at his watch, a gold Rolex Daytona with a bright green bezel. He calculated the time it would take him to get to 1135 Sixth Avenue, the Interchem building.
He had a gun in his closet, but he’d never used it and didn’t know if it even worked, or if he would be able to find bullets. Not to mention how he would get there.
Igor wanted to do more. He felt helpless.
He cut out of one of the screens and found a GPS tracking tool, remembering that in addition to Singerman, both Dewey and Tacoma were in New York.
A map shot wide on the screen and two flashing green circles showed where they were. Dewey was at the UN—but Tacoma was on Forty-fourth Street, moving in the direction of the UN.
Igor tapped his ear.
“CENCOM,” came a female voice.
“I need to be patched in to Rob Tacoma.”
“Identify.”
“I don’t have an identification. He is a NOC and I need to speak to him.”
“Why?”
“To prevent a catastrophe.”