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By Root 286 0

Crates quickly and quietly loaded from boat or seaplane to truck. Easy entry, and so close to New York. That, too, was lucky for the team. An hour passed, then another. Barone had known this was going to take a while, since Downer needed time to examine each of the weapons. Though arms dealers could usually get a client what he wanted, that didn't necessarily mean the weapons would be in perfect working order. Like refugees, a hot weapon never got to travel first class. The wait didn't bother the Uruguayan. What mattered was that the weapon work when he aimed and fired. Something to the left caught his eye. He turned. Near the mouth of the river, the Statue of Liberty was just catching the first rays of dawn. Barone hadn't realized the monument was out there, and seeing it at first surprised and then angered him. He had no gripe with the United States and her cherished notions of freedom and equality. But there, in the harbor, was a giant idol celebrating a spiritual concept. It seemed sacrilegious. The way he was raised, these things were very personal. They were celebrated in the heart, not in the harbor. Finally, shortly before seven A.m., the door behind him opened. Downer leaned out. "You're to come around back," the Australian said, then shut the door.

Barone didn't feel like making fun of Downer's accent. Since the incident in the helicopter over Paris, he hadn't felt like talking to the unrepentent mercenary Downer at all. Barone turned to his left and walked around the side of the building. His new boots had deeply treaded rubber soles that squeaked on the asphalt as he made his way along the driveway. To his right was a tire shop surrounded by a high chain-link fence. A guard dog slept in the shadows. Earlier in the evening, the soldier had tossed him some of his hamburger-American meat tasted funny to the Uruguayan-and the animal became his best friend. Barone walked past a pair of green trash bins to where the rented van was parked. There were seventeen weapons-three guns for each man and a pair of rocket launchers-plus ammunition and bulletproof vests. Each weapon was swaddled in bubble wrap Sazanka and Vandal were already carrying them from the body shop as Barone hopped into the open side door of the van. As the men handed the weapons up, Barone carefully placed them in six plain cardboard boxes. Downer watched from the back door of the body shop, making sure none of the weapons were dropped. It was the first time Barone had ever seen the Australian so quiet and professional. As he worked, the sense of loneliness left the Uruguayan. Not because he was with his teammates but because he was moving again. They were close to their goal now. Barone had always believed in the plan, but now he believed they might actually pull this off. Just a few small steps remained. Months before, Georgiev had obtained a counterfeit New York State driver's license. Since rental car companies routinely checked police records before letting cars off the lot, the Bulgarian had to pay extra to have it entered into the motor vehicle department computer system. He even gave himself a traffic ticket a year before, not just to show residency but because people who drove in big cities usually got one. A clean record might arouse suspicions. All the team had to do now was make certain they didn't run any lights or have an accident before reaching the hotel. They'd drawn straws earlier, and Vandal would be sleeping in the van while the others went up to the room to rest. Georgiev didn't want to risk the van being stolen by Ustinoviks.

Then, at seven P.m., they'd leave the hotel garage and head to Forty-second Street. They'd drive east, across town, and at First Avenue they'd turn north. Once again, Georgiev would drive carefully.

Then, suddenly, he would speed up. He would approach the target at between sixty and seventy miles an hour, and in less than ten minutes, the target would fall.

The United Nations would be theirs. And then the third and final part of their plan could commence.

* * *

SIX

New York, New York Saturday,