I said to Buck, “I assume Petrov and his pals rendezvoused with a Russian ship.”

“I would assume so. And on that ship could be a nuclear device.” He informed me, “If it’s a suitcase nuke, it could be the biggest model, about the size of a steamer trunk, which would yield about ten kilotons of atomic energy.” He further informed me, “For comparison, the Hiroshima bomb was estimated to be between twelve and sixteen kilotons.”

I glanced at Tess, wondering when she knew all this.

Buck said, “We should also assume that this ship that Petrov and his friends rendezvoused with is heading for New York City.”

I didn’t reply, but that was a good assumption.

Buck continued, “The ship will enter the harbor, and at some point, before or after docking, the nuclear device will detonate and the fireball will completely destroy everything within a quarter-mile radius and incinerate structures within a half mile of ground zero.” He added, “And then there is shock wave damage, radioactive fallout, loss of communication and services, and mass panic.” He further added, “Over half a million initial deaths, followed by at least another half million more in the aftermath.”

Again, I didn’t reply.

He continued, “Assuming the target is Wall Street, the entire southern end of Manhattan Island will be gone, including the financial and government district—along with your offices at 26 Federal Plaza, and also the World Trade Center construction site. Also gone will be port facilities, bridges, tunnels, and subways and the entire historic district, all of which will be a nuclear wasteland for years. Not to mention the Statue of Liberty and collateral damage to the Brooklyn and New Jersey port facilities.” He added, “This would be a crippling financial and psychological blow to America, from which it will take decades to recover.”

“I get it.” I informed him, “It’s very difficult—actually impossible—to get a ship that’s emitting radiation past the harbor forts that aim radiation detectors at passing ships.” I further informed him, “Also, the NYPD Harbor Unit patrol boats have radiation detectors, as do the Coast Guard cutters.” I also told him, “And if the Russians tried to get a suitcase nuke off the ship and into the city, they wouldn’t get it past Customs, who also have radiation detectors on the piers.”

“I’m sure the Russians have a plan.”

Indeed they must. But it occurred to me that a Russian ship, such as a cargo ship or a luxury liner, would be subject to extra scrutiny at Ambrose Buoy, the security checkpoint, before it approached New York Harbor. It also occurred to me that the Russians wouldn’t want to be caught with a suitcase nuke aboard one of their ships. And if the nuke did go off, it could be determined that the Russian ship was ground zero, and that could start a nuclear war. So some of this wasn’t computing.

Also, why did Petrov, Gorsky, and the nuke guy, Urmanov, have to take an amphibious craft out to rendezvous with this Russian ship that had a nuke onboard? They could have boarded the ship in Russia. So maybe Buck got this wrong, and Petrov was now having a vodka on a party boat with Tasha on his lap. And that’s what I’d conclude—if it wasn’t for Urmanov.

Buck broke into my thoughts and said, “We don’t know if Petrov and his friends have a plan to escape the detonation, or if this is a suicide mission.” He added, “I think a man like Petrov would like to see the result of his work, so he may have a plan to get clear of the explosion, along with his two companions. But for the young ladies and everyone else aboard whatever ship they rendezvoused with, this is a suicide mission, though I’m sure they don’t know that.”

And never will, I thought; they will become one with the universe at the moment of the Big Bang. More importantly, I hoped this wasn’t a suicide mission for Petrov, because suicide missions, like 9/11, were more likely to succeed than missions where the perpetrators need an escape plan. Lots to think about. Especially the things that weren’t computing.

Buck may have thought that I needed more evidence. But he didn’t have any, so he told me a story.

“Not far from here,” he began, “is a place called Nassau Point.” He asked, “Have you heard of it?”

“Been there.”

“So was Albert Einstein, who spent the summer of 1939 there in a rented cottage.”

“He deserved a break.”

Buck continued, “In July of that year, Einstein received a visit from two well-known physicists, Eugene Wigner and Leó Szilárd, who convinced Einstein that he needed to write a letter to President Roosevelt alerting the president to the threat of the German atomic bomb program.”

I’d actually read the famous Nassau Point Letter, so I knew where this was going, but Buck likes to tell stories, so I let him continue.

“In that letter, Einstein says something that… well, is a warning from the past to us in the future.” Buck looked at me and said, “Einstein wrote to Roosevelt, ‘A single bomb of this type, carried by boat and exploded in a port, might very well destroy the whole port together with some of the surrounding territory.’ ” Buck stayed silent a moment, then said, “I believe that day has arrived.”

Well, I thought, the nuclear nightmare seemed to have begun in the minds of scientists long before anyone else even knew what nuclear energy was. Einstein was a smart guy.

Buck said, “Roosevelt took this seriously, and so should we.”

That seemed to be the end of the pointed story, and Buck asked me, “Do you take this seriously?”

“It’s credible.”

“Not everyone thinks so.”

“I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.”

He didn’t respond to that and asked me, “Any word from Captain Kalish?”

“No.”

Tess said to me, “We’d like you to call the Suffolk PD and get some detectives to accompany you and me to the Tamorov house.”

“All right.” I guess I’m the front guy and the go-to cop. But before going to see Tamorov, I asked Buck, “What do you know about Georgi Tamorov?”

“Not much more than everyone else knows. He’s made billions from oil and gas and he has financial interests all over the world, including America. He’s close to Putin and he’s a globe-trotting playboy. He owns a Falcon 900 that flies him to the playgrounds of the world.”

“Does he own cargo ships or luxury liners?”

“Good question, but no.” Buck added, “Though I’m sure he knows people who do.”

I nodded and asked, “Personals?”

“Tamorov has been married to the same woman for about twenty-five years and they have a son and a daughter, both at university in England.”

I said to Buck, “I seem to remember that Tamorov has a place in Manhattan.”

“Yes, he has a townhouse in Tribeca and offices near the former World Trade Center.”

“He won’t have either if a nuke incinerates Lower Manhattan.”

“Correct. So I can’t imagine that Tamorov knows what his guest is up to.” Buck added, “Also, Tamorov’s wife is currently in New York.”

And Petrov’s wife isn’t.

So, I was off to see Georgi Tamorov, and also Dmitry the driver, both of whom knew something.

Buck gave me the standard warning. “What you’ve heard tonight is need-to-know and SCI—Sensitive Compartmented Information—not to be repeated to anyone under any circumstances.”

I didn’t reply.

“We know you can keep a secret, John, as you did in Yemen. We trust you.”

Sorry I can’t say the same.

Buck said to me and to Tess, “Let’s pray that we are wrong, and that we are misinterpreting what we see.”

Right. Just like in Yemen. I said, “I will leave you two to pray, and I’ll call when I have something.” I added, “Good powwow.”

Tess said, “I’m going with you.”

“You’re fired.”

Buck interjected, “I’m afraid I have to insist that you take Tess with you.”

“Really?”

“Please.” He explained, “Tess has contact information for resources that you may need at a moment’s notice.”