Net Force - Tom Clancy [57]
All over the city, computer-controlled traffic signals apparently turned green at the same instant.
Another image. A major intersection with at least a dozen cars melded together by impacts. The cars were on fire, and an explosion rocked the scene, knocking the cameraman down. Somebody cursed in English: Shit, shit, shit!
Here was a high-angle helicopter shot-scores of cars, trucks, motor scooters and bicycles compacted into jagged masses. The voice describing the event was excited, but not overly so: There are at least fifty known dead in a massive traffic pile-up on Marine Drive, with hundreds more injured, and estimates of other traffic fatalities in the city go as high as six hundred-
Again the image shifted, showing a train station. A passenger train lay crumpled like a childs toy next to a stretch of track. Freight cars were scattered among the coaches, some of them turned onto their sides.
At Churchgate Railway station, malfunctioning train signals apparently caused the collision of a Central Railways passenger train northbound from Goa, with a freight train heading south. At least sixty are known dead at this point, with more than three hundred injuries. We have unconfirmed reports of electric commuter trains colliding in suburban areas with fatalities, but travel in the city is impossible and we are unable to get to those locations except by air.
Another scene shift. A twin-engine airplane, engulfed in flames. Bodies-and parts of bodies lay scattered around it like broken dolls.
Air traffic control malfunctions have reportedly caused at least four plane crashes. This one, a sightseeing flight filled with Japanese tourists, crashed into the yellow basalt monument known as the Gateway to India at the northeastern end of the Colaba tourist district, killing all twenty-four on the aircraft and at least fifteen on the ground, with dozens more injured. We have unconfirmed reports that an Air India jet with two hundred and sixty-eight passengers on board has crashed into Back Bay just south of Beach.
My God, Michaels said. What the hell happened?
The computer programmer. Tonis voice was grim.
Somebody did this on purpose?
Thats what it looks like. Jay is on it, but hes too busy to talk about it right now.
Michaels watched a rescue truck, lights flashing, frozen in gridlock. Jesus. They were dealing with a madman. A homicidal madman. Until he was caught, nobody was safe.
18
Monday, September 27th, 8:41 a.m. Quantico
No real progress had been made on Steve Days death.
Oh, the labs had cataloged all kinds of hair and fiber and bullet casings, but in the end, none of it meant anything without the people, clothes and guns the things belonged to-and they didnt have any of those.
Alex Michaels was more than a little bothered. He sat at his desk, staring into the wall. He knew there was nothing to be done about it; the best minds in the FBI were hard at work looking for the smallest clue, and standing there yelling Hurry! wouldnt help.
It wasnt as if he didnt have other things to worry about. As head of Net Force, hed suddenly found out what it meant to have the buck stop on your desk. Aside from having to assign high-level cases to make sure they were handled right, there was all the political bullshit. He had to justify what his organization was doing, why they did it, and how much it cost, first to the Director, then, if they were feeling snoopy-and they always were-to Congress.
He had to appear in front of Senator Cobbs Security Committee on Thursday to answer questions about something Day had done a year ago that had mightily upset the Senator. Cobb, unaffectionately known as Tweety Bird in intelligence circles-I taught I taw a puddy tat!-was always imagining conspiracies, no matter where he happened to look. Cobb thought the military was scheming to violently take over the reins of government; that the Germans were secretly re-arming themselves to eat Eastern Europe; that the Girl Scouts were Commies. He had been the bane of Steve Days life, and it