“Of course there is,” Bennie scoffed. “Use your brain.”

“It’s dead.”

Nigel bounced around to the blue box. “The software is some of my home brew. When you have inserted the transmitter, you reach down and flip this little switch, and the script automatically locates the computer and begins downloading the database. It will happen very quickly, Kyle, and if you like, you can take a break, leave the room, go for a pee, act like nothing at all is happening, and all the while my little gizmo is sucking up the documents.”

“Bloody brilliant,” Kyle said.

Bennie produced a black Bally briefcase identical to Kyle’s, a stand-up model with a short leather flap that latched on one side. There were three compartments, with the middle one padded for a laptop. The substitute was complete with a few scuff marks and Kyle’s Scully & Pershing business card firmly in the leather tag. “You’ll use this,” he said as Nigel carefully lifted the blue box and placed it in the center compartment of the briefcase. “When you unzip this divide,” Nigel said, “the receiver will already be in place. If for some reason you need to abort, just close the case and punch this button, and it locks automatically.”

“Abort?”

“Just in case, Kyle.”

“Let me get this straight. Something goes wrong, somebody notices me, maybe some alarm goes off in a supercomputer we know nothing about as soon as I start dickering with the database, and your plan is then for me to lock the flap on the briefcase, grab the transmitter that’s almost hidden, and then do what? Sprint from the room like a shoplifter who’s been caught? Where do I go, Nigel? Any help here, Bennie?”

“Relax, Kyle,” Bennie said with a fake smile. “This is a piece of cake. You’ll do fine.”

“No alarms, Kyle,” Nigel said. “My software is too good for that. Trust me.”

“Would you please stop saying that?”

Kyle walked to a window and looked out at the Manhattan skyline. It was almost 9:30 on Tuesday night. He had not eaten since he and Tabor had enjoyed a fifteen-minute lunch in the firm cafeteria at 11:30.

Hunger, though, was only a minor concern on a long, sad list.

“Are you ready, Kyle?” Bennie called from across the room. Not a question, but a challenge.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he answered without turning around.

“When?”

“As soon as possible. I want to get it over with. I’ll stop by the room a few times tomorrow, check the traffic. My best guess is that it’ll be about eight tomorrow night, late in the day but with enough time to download, assuming I don’t get shot.”

“Any questions about the equipment, Kyle?” Nigel asked.

Kyle walked stiffly back to the workstation and stared at the machines. He finally shrugged and said, “No, it’s pretty straightforward.”

“Super. One last thing, Kyle. The blue box has a wireless signal so that I know precisely when you’re downloading.”

“Why is that necessary?”

“Monitoring. We’ll be very close by.”

Another shrug. “Whatever.”

The blue box was still in the center compartment, with Nigel handling it as if it were a bomb. Kyle then added the materials from his own briefcase, and when he grabbed the handle and lifted it off the table, he was surprised at the weight.

“A bit heavier, Kyle?” Nigel quizzed, watching every move.

“Yes, quite a bit.”

“Not to worry. We’ve reinforced the bottom of the Bally. It’s not going to drop out as you’re walking along Broad Street.”

“I like the other one better. When do I get it back?”

“Soon, Kyle, soon.”

Kyle pulled on his trench coat and made his way to the door. Bennie followed and said, “Good luck, Kyle. It’s all come down to this. We believe in you.”

“Go to hell,” Kyle said, and left the room.

The briefcase grew heavier during the short, sleepless night, and when Kyle lugged it out of the rear of the taxi early Wednesday morning, he half-wished the bottom would indeed fall out, the blue box would crash onto Broad Street in a thousand pieces, and Nigel’s precious home brew would be sent down the gutter. He wasn’t sure what would happen after that, but any scenario was far better than what was planned.

Twenty minutes after he rode the elevator to the thirty-fourth floor, Roy Benedict entered the same elevator with two young men who were undoubtedly associates at Scully & Pershing. The signs were obvious. They were under thirty. It was 6:35 in the morning. They appeared to be fatigued and miserable, but they wore expensive clothes and carried handsome briefcases, black. He was prepared to see a familiar face, though felt it unlikely. It was not at all unusual to see attorneys from other firms in the building. Roy knew half a dozen partners at Scully, but with fifteen hundred lawyers arriving for work, he figured the odds were slim. And he was right. The two zombies riding up with him were just a couple of faceless souls who would be gone in a year or so.

The briefcase in Roy’s hand was also a black Bally, identical to the one Kyle bought back in August, the third one required for this mission. He left the elevator alone on the thirty-fourth floor and walked past the vacant reception desk, down a hall to the right, four, five, six doors, and there was his client, sitting at his desk, sipping coffee, waiting. The exchange was brief. Roy swapped briefcases and was ready to go.

“Where are the feds?” Kyle asked, very softly, though no one was in the hall and the secretaries were just getting out of bed.

“Around the corner in a van. They’ll do a quick scan to make sure there are no tracking devices. If they find one, I’ll bring it back in a sprint and we’ll concoct a story. If not, then they’ll take it to their lab in Queens. This thing is heavy.”

“The blue box. Specially designed by some evil geniuses.”

“When do you need it?”

“Let’s say 7:00 p.m. That’s twelve hours. Should be enough, right?”

“That’s what they say. According to Bullington, they have a small army of geeks just itching to unwrap it.”

“They can’t screw it up.”

“They won’t. You good?”

“Great. Do they have arrest warrants?”

“Oh, yes. Wiretapping, extortion, conspiracy, lots of good stuff. They’re just waiting on you.”

“If Bennie is about to be arrested, then I’m a motivated young man.”

“Good luck.”

Roy was gone, leaving behind the Bally with the same scuff marks and name tag. Kyle quickly stuffed it with files and legal pads and pens and went to find more coffee.

TWELVE LONG HOURS later, Roy was back with the second briefcase. He took a seat as Kyle closed the door. “So?” he said.

“It is what it is. It’s a customized computer built along the lines of those used by the military, everything is heavy-duty. Designed for nothing but downloading. Two hard drives, with 750 gigabytes each. Basically, enough memory to store everything in this building and the three next door. Highly sophisticated software that the FBI geeks have never seen before. These guys are good, Kyle.”

“Tell me about it.”

“And there is indeed a wireless signal so they can monitor you.”

“Dammit. So I have to download something?”

“I’m afraid so. The wireless signal cannot indicate what you are downloading, or how much. It just lets them know that you’re inside and that you’ve started moving the database.”

“Shit!”

“You can do it, Kyle.”

“That seems to be the consensus.”

“Do you know where you’ll meet these guys?”

“No. It’ll be a last-second notice. Assuming I download without setting off alarms, I’ll call Bennie with the happy news, and he’ll tell me where to meet. I’m going to the room in an hour, and I plan to quit at nine, regardless of the download. So, by nine fifteen, if I’m lucky, I should be on the street.”