125

Marcus’s phone rang.

It was Annie.

“One of the NEST teams just picked up a radioactive trail at O’Hare,” she said.

“Near Air Force One?”

“No, in the parking lot outside the Signature Flight Support terminal.”

“How strong is the reading?”

“Not that strong, actually. And so far, they haven’t found anything inside the Signature offices or hangar. But they’re still looking.”

Marcus relayed the news to his colleagues.

“We should go check it out,” Pete said.

“Why?” Jenny asked. “We don’t bring any expertise to the table, and if there is an attack, we’d be twenty to thirty minutes out of position.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Pete sniped. “We can’t just stay here.”

“I don’t know. I don’t like this any better than you do,” Jenny shot back, growing visibly more frustrated by the minute.

“Now that the principals are in place, let’s get ourselves back across I-90, within striking distance of the stadium,” Marcus told them. “If there is an attack, we’re not going to do any good on this side of the highway.”

Jenny and Pete agreed. They quickly moved to the stairwell, got back down to the ground floor, and jumped into the Wrangler. Marcus took the wheel while Jenny checked in with Stone and Callaghan.

By the time they finally cleared through all the checkpoints and were back on the stadium side of I-90, the Mass was underway. They listened to live coverage on WGN, Chicago’s leading news/talk radio station, which reported that there were now 109,426 people in or around the stadium, the largest crowd in Soldier Field’s recent history. Typically, when the Bears were playing, the stadium held no more than 62,000.

Heading east on Ida B. Wells Drive toward Lake Michigan, they were just about to cross the river when Marcus’s phone rang. With Marcus driving, Jenny answered it on the first ring.

“Annie, it’s Jenny. No, he’s driving. . . . What? . . . Here? In Chicago? You’re sure?”

“What’s the matter?” Marcus asked.

Rather than explain, Jenny put Annie on speaker. “Tell him.”

“Marcus, it’s your mom.”

“What about her?”

“She’s there.”

“Where?”

“In Chicago, at the stadium.”

“What are you talking about?”

“She sent me a text message a few hours ago on my personal phone. I just noticed it now. She says she’s there with the Garcias and Maya Emerson.”

“That’s impossible. She never goes anywhere.”

“She says she’s been trying to reach you, to tell you, for days.”

Marcus suddenly felt sick. “Can you call her?”

“Sure,” Annie said. “But say what?”

Marcus had no idea. When he glanced at Pete and Jenny, it was clear they didn’t either. “Just tell her you spoke to me and that she and Maya and the Garcias should leave the stadium immediately. Don’t tell her why. Just tell her time is of the essence. They should leave and walk to the center of the city immediately.”

“Marcus, that’s not possible,” Pete said from the backseat.

“Just do it, Annie—quickly—please.”

“Marcus, she can’t,” Pete protested.

“Why not?”

“Don’t you remember? There’s no cell phone service in the stadium. You told Roseboro to turn off the local towers and cut off all service during the Mass.”