"Sir?"

"When you and Dick came in here, Major, you told me nothing of this crash of an aircraft into the Liberty Bell scenario. Your visit to my office was in the nature of a courtesy call. Secretary Hall wanted my assistance in your investigation of Lease-Aire, Incorporated. I of course told you I would be happy to cooperate."

"Yes, sir," Castillo said.

"You said a moment ago, Major, that you believe there will be information regarding the location of this missing airplane within twenty-four hours?"

"Yes, sir. Perhaps a little less time than that."

The commissioner looked at his watch.

"It is now eight-thirteen," he said. "In thirty-two hours, it will be four-thirteen tomorrow afternoon. At that time, I'm going to the mayor with this. He will like that because it will give him time to make the six o'clock news. You understand me? I don't want any misunderstandings about this, and it goes without saying that I expect you to immediately bring me up to speed on any further developments."

"I understand, sir," Castillo said.

"And, Dick," the commissioner went on, "I don't want you to tell your dad about this under any circumstances. I love him like a brother, but he has, as he says and has shown, that West Point Duty, Honor, Country philosophy, and I don't want him doing something he feels duty and honor require him to do. What this situation requires is someone with the philosophy your dad says the major has: that the end-protecting Philadelphia-justifies the means."

"I understand, sir," Miller said.

The commissioner rose from behind his desk.

"We're now going to the Counterterrorism Bureau. I will ask the commanding officer of the Organized Crime and Intelligence Unit-they're in the same building-to meet us there," he said. "I don't know what they have on any connection between our local African American terrorists-who so far have limited their efforts to bring Philadelphia to its knees by taking potshots at passing patrol cars-and any other terrorists, but if anyone has that information they will. I will tell Chief Inspector Kramer and Captain O'Brien that they are to give you anything and everything they have or can develop. I will tell Chief Inspector Kramer that twice because he has an unfortunate tendency to obey only those orders he considers wise and reasonable."

"Thank you very much, Commissioner," Castillo said.

"Be warned that neither of these officers is going to be willing to share any more than he feels he absolutely has to with either an Army officer or the special assistant to the secretary of homeland security. But if either of them really gets his back up, get back to me-right away-and I'll have another chat with him."

"Sir, how does-Chief Inspector Kramer and Captain O'Brien, you said?-feel about the Secret Service?"

"The Secret Service? I don't know. I know Kramer hates the FBI with a fine Pennsylvania Dutchman's passion. And I don't think O'Brien thinks very highly about the FBI, either. The Secret Service? I don't know. Why do you ask?"

"Sir, I have credentials identifying me as a supervisory special agent of the Secret Service," Castillo said.

The commissioner looked at him for a long moment, shaking his head.

"What do we say about Dick? Or does he have a Secret Service shield, too?"

"I think we can probably get by by showing my credentials," Castillo said.

"Okay. That'll work."

The commissioner waved them through his office door ahead of him.

He stopped at a desk manned by a uniformed sergeant.

"Put out the arm for Chief Inspector Kramer and Captain O'Brien," he ordered. "Have them meet me right now in Kramer's office at the arsenal."

"Yes, sir."

"Have an unmarked car, a good one with all communications, delivered out there right away. If one isn't available, take one away from somebody else."

"Yes, sir."

"We are cooperating with the Secret Service, that's all you know."

"Yes, sir."

"Come on, Jack," the commissioner said to the plainclothes policeman who had been waiting for them at the elevator. "We're going for a ride."

"Yes, sir."

"Jack, this is Supervisory Special Agent Castillo of the Secret Service and Special Agent Miller. Gentlemen, this is my executive officer, Captain Jack Hanrahan."

The men shook hands as they walked to the elevator.

[FIVE]

Frankford Industrial Complex

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

0825 9 June 2005

"Deja vu, all over again," Major H. Richard Miller, Jr., said, shortly after Captain Jack Hanrahan had turned the commissioner's unmarked Ford Crown Victoria off Tacony Street in Northeast Philadelphia into what looked like an old industrial complex of brick warehouses. "I have been here before. What is this place?"

The commissioner chuckled.

"It used to be the Frankford Arsenal," he said.

"Yeah," Miller said, remembering. "We used to come to the commissary here when I was a little kid."

"When they closed the arsenal, the city tried to turn it into an industrial park," the commissioner said. "That didn't work, so they let unimportant parts of the city government-the police, for instance-use the buildings."

Hanrahan pulled up before a small, century-old, two-story brick building, into a slot marked CHIEF INSPECTOR KRAMER, picked a microphone from the seat, and said, "C-One at CT."

Castillo looked for a sign on the redbrick building but couldn't see one.

Everybody got out of the car, and the commissioner walked purposefully into the building, visibly startling two uniformed police officers on their way out who obviously did not expect to run into the commissioner. The others followed him.

Just inside the small lobby, to the right, was an unmarked door. There was a door buzzer button set into the wall beside it. The commissioner pressed it.

A not very charming voice came over a small loudspeaker: "Yeah?"

"Open the door," the commissioner ordered.

"Who is it?"

"It's the commissioner."

"Bullshit!"

"What do I have to do, take the damned door?"

There was the sound of a solenoid, and, when the commissioner pushed on the door, it now opened.

Beyond the door was a stairway. The commissioner went up the stairs two at a time. At the head of the stairs was an embarrassed-looking black man wearing a shoulder holster.

"Commissioner, I'm sorry. I didn't:"

The commissioner waved a hand, meaning, "No problem."

"Chief Inspector Kramer?" the commissioner asked.

"I just don't know, sir. I'll put the arm out for him. Captain O'Brien's waiting for him, too."

He nodded across the room toward a glass-walled office.

"The arm's already supposed to be out," the commissioner said.

"I'll find out what's happened, sir," the man-Castillo and Miller both assumed he was a detective-said.

The commissioner walked across the crowded room to the glass-walled office, signaling the others to follow him. As they got close, a uniformed captain got out of a chair.

The commissioner shook his hand but made no introductions, instead saying, "We'll wait for Fritz."

He sat down at a desk that had a small nameplate on it reading CHIEF INSPECTOR F.W. KRAMER, took out his wallet, and looked inside.

"Anybody got two bucks?" he asked. "Kramer is very sensitive about his coffee kitty."

Castillo was first to come up with the money. Captain Hanrahan took it from his hand and left the office.

Miller nudged Castillo and indicated with a nod of his head at what first appeared to be a poster for The Green Berets movie in 1968 starring John Wayne, but when Castillo took a second look he saw that Wayne's face had been painted over. The face was now that of a smiling young man and the blaze on the beret was now that of the 10th Special Forces Group.

The detective put his head in the door.