Zero Day_ A Novel - Mark Russinovich [106]
* * *
“Now what?” Daryl asked. She was scrubbed and dressed, though in yesterday’s clothes and still felt grubby. “Go to the police?”
Jeff had considered that at some length. “I can’t think why. Would you believe our story of cyber terrorists attacking the United States, unleashing assassins to murder computer programmers and managing partners of law firms?”
She couldn’t help but laugh a little at the description. “When you put it like that, I guess not. So what do we do?”
“Eat. I’ve done enough thinking on an empty stomach. Maybe we’ll come up with an action plan over an old-fashioned American breakfast.”
“Meaning?”
“Coffee and bagels haven’t been doing me much good lately. Time for some bacon and eggs. I know just the place.”
* * *
Officer Jerry Kowalski moved to the corner of the intersection as far from the dirt and dust as he could manage. The overtime for covering street construction was welcome, but he hated the noise and grime. He was wearing old shoes and an unofficial pair of trousers close to the official blue of his standard uniform. Better they took the beating than the ones he wore on duty.
He idly wondered if he could get away with wearing one of those surgical masks that people wore in Japan and Hong Kong. He decided he’d look stupid, and his uncle, the sergeant, would ream him out good, and the union would bump him to the bottom of the overtime list. As his uncle often said about the force, “Better not to stand out.”
The jackhammer started up again and he slipped in his earplugs. Noise. And dirt. What a mess.
Then, across and down East Thirtieth Street, for the third time he spotted the same guy hanging out in the alley. His partner had told him not to ignore his instincts. “If you’re drawn to something, there’s a reason. Don’t talk yourself out of it,” he’d say, then tell Jerry to stop staring at the babes and, for a change, try looking for illegal activity or scumbags up to no good.
In Jerry’s opinion this guy really stuck out. For one, he was neatly dressed in a blue windbreaker, tan pants, and very white sneakers. Not the typical alley cretin living out of his shopping cart. For another, though he moved from time to time, he was pretty cool about it all, trying to be discreet without being obvious. The guy had to be up to something.
The first time Jerry spotted him all he’d seen was some subtle movement where it shouldn’t be. It was as if he was waiting for someone. Yeah, Jerry thought, waiting in a skanky alley for his date. Something was going down for sure, though just what he couldn’t decide.
Across the street from the alley was the Hotel Luxor, and Jerry figured that someone in there had something to do with why the guy was waiting. With nothing better to do he’d run down in his mind the possibilities. The guy could be a process server in a divorce action or lawsuit; that struck him as pretty logical. The guy was dressed too neatly to be a panhandler, but upon reconsideration, he was also dressed too neatly to be a process server. Those guys were usually pretty ratty.
He could be a jilted boyfriend—that was the one Jerry liked best. The guy was waiting for his girlfriend to get off work so he could corner her and have a few words. Or, Jerry thought, maybe she was shacked up with some guy and what the man in the alley had in mind was something other than a few words.
Just then the doorman opened the doors and out of the hotel walked a stunning couple. The blonde was lovely, while the guy looked as if he could be a model or something. Both were trim, fit, looking the way everybody secretly wanted to look.
Across the street the guy in the alley stirred, and Jerry’s eyes went straight to him. Alley guy started across the street, not looking as if he were moving fast, yet covering