snorted with derision. She quickly told him what had happened.
“And you’ve reported this, you say, to the police?”
“That’s right.”
“Did you say anything about North Korea or rockets to them?”
Curious that he was back to that again. “No, I did not.”
“Remember what I said: a supermax.” He hung up.
Jenna forced herself to take a big breath before turning to the others, who had listened to her every word.
“The vice president?” Dafoe asked.
She nodded. “And he just threatened me with a long stay in a supermax, if I said a word about the rockets.”
“You have to tell people,” Sang-mi said.
“Stop saying that,” Jenna snapped, “and just let me just think.” She turned back to Dafoe. “What worries me is I can’t stop thinking about bin Laden. For years before 9/11 he threatened the U.S., blamed us for everything. He even had the North Tower bombed in ’93. There were people in government trying to get the attention of the White House and the defense agencies, trying to go through all the proper channels, and no one listened until those goddamn planes slammed into the towers and killed three thousand people.”
“The Koreans are going to kill the whole world,” Forensia said.
Jenna nodded. “North Korea’s leader is doing the same thing bin Laden did,” she said. “He’s blaming the U.S. and threatening us because of his country’s droughts and famine, climate change and—”
“He’s got a point there,” Forensia said.
“No!” Jenna said furiously. “I won’t give that bastard even that much. You can’t let psychos like him justify anything because that becomes a way of their justifying everything, even rockets that would end the world.”
Jenna sat heavily on Dafoe’s couch. “You know what I think? I think Percy just confirmed everything that Sang-mi’s been saying.” Jenna stared at the young Korean woman, who said nothing, perhaps sensing that the ground had shifted in her favor.
“I remember you saying,” Dafoe nodded at Jenna, “that in your book you wrote about how North Korea likes to piggyback on crises whenever they can. You look at the situation in the Maldives, and it’s hard to imagine that they’ll ever find a bigger crisis to jump on than that tanker.”
“There’s another reason the North could be moving now,” Jenna said. “Because if you’re going to be doing something against us, what better time to do it than on election day.”
“You’re right,” Dafoe said.
“You wait till everybody goes to the polls, and then you launch,” Jenna added. She pulled out her phone and called Nicci, catching her on the second ring. In a voice as bright and casual as cotton candy, Jenna asked Nicci to meet her at the Shaughn Hotel at five the next morning.
“The Shaughn? Really?” Nicci said.
“I can’t go back to my apartment.”
“What’s up?”
“Can you trust me till then?” Jenna asked.
“You know I can.”
“See you. I’ll be registered under Dafoe’s last name, Tillian.”
Jenna looked at Dafoe’s rifle and pistol. “Are these all the guns you have?”
“That’s it. Up till now, all I’ve been fighting are coyotes.”
“Let’s grab whatever ammunition you’ve got and hope for the best, because I’ve got a nasty feeling that we’re going to be fighting animals a lot more dangerous and devious than coyotes.”
“Are you going to tell everyone?” Sang-mi asked.
“If I can get on the air, I’ll say plenty. But that’s a big ‘if’ because I’ve been suspended.”
“We may have bigger problems than that,” Dafoe said with a telling glance at the dark world outside.
Jenna nodded and grabbed the pistol. “Let’s head down to the city. We’re sure not spending the night here.”
CHAPTER 23
Jenna sat in the front passenger seat of Forensia’s rattly, rusty Subaru wagon with the rifle held tightly in her hands. Forensia had gladly surrendered the driving duties to Dafoe; his truck, with a single bench seat, could never have held the four of them. Riding shotgun, Jenna constantly searched their surroundings as Dafoe drove cautiously down a series of country roads before merging onto the New York State Thruway.
Forensia and Sang-mi huddled in the backseat and kept their heads down. They might not have been sure whether the drive south was safer than trying to hide in town, but they’d cast their lot with Jenna and Dafoe, and there was no looking back—except to check if they were being followed.
Dry lightning cleaved the night sky to the west, an atmospheric sideshow that did little to ease the tension in the car, though the threat paled compared to the real danger of a highway shootout. But the trip was unavoidable