Page 58 of Clive Cussler The Iron Storm (An Isaac Bell Adventure #15)

A s the night wore on, more and more moving pieces were put into play.

James Dashwood had arrived shortly after meeting Joe Marchetti at the armory and accessing the explosives.

Zane Grey and Vernon Grimm showed up an hour later.

They’d berthed the Alice N. at a commercial slip on the East River near Fortieth Street.

Grimm had already had her tanks filled and had a mechanic lined up to inspect her engine in the morning.

Both men renewed their vow to see this through to the end.

Bell got them rooms in the Knickerbocker for the night.

For himself, he managed to get some sleep on the couch in his office.

A little after dawn, Eddie Tobin phoned in. He had dozens of people keeping a weather eye out for any sort of warship, but so far no one had seen a thing.

Betsy’s shift had ended at midnight and had been replaced by Fred Wright, a probationary employee only on his second month. He was astute enough to have a fresh pot of coffee brewed by the time Bell ended his call with Tobin and emerged from his office yawning broadly.

Bell poured himself a mug, sipped, and told Wright, “You just earned my vote for your probation meeting. Put a call through to Mr. Van Dorn in Philadelphia. It’s early, but it’s why he gets paid the most. He’s staying at the Bellevue-Stratford.”

At nine, Archie returned with his new charge, Hanna.

She wasn’t at all what Bell had expected.

He’d assumed she’d be shy and tentative.

Instead, she shook his hand with a firm grip and looked him in the eye when she said it was a pleasure to meet him.

She had an accent, but it was more charming than distracting.

“Why are you helping us?” Bell asked when the pleasantries were over.

She darted a glance at Archie, but turned back to Bell.

“My people,” she started, but then faltered.

Bell saw her clench her jaw to give herself strength.

“My people have been hated across most of Europe for centuries and that hatred has taken root here, too. If it is ever learned that Roma were involved in something as terrible as what Balka is planning, that hatred will only grow worse. I fear there will be pogroms here as there have always been back home.”

Bell scratched at the stubble on his chin. “Wise beyond your years, I see. And Balka Rath?”

“He has led my brother astray and treats me…” Her face flushed with embarrassment. “I would rather not say what he thinks of me.”

“No need,” Bell assured her. “I think I understand. When the attack comes, you and Archie are going to be in real danger. You’ll be rushing to the area near large explosions with more possible at any time. You could even be killed. Do you think you can handle that?”

She gave her answer some thought before saying, “I have only ever learned how to take, Mr. Bell. Mr. and Mrs. Abbott are teaching me what it means to give back. It is important and it is what makes us human. If my fate is to die giving back, I can think of no better death.”

Bell nodded. “You already think like a Van Dorn.”

At eight, James Dashwood called from the armory. He had everything Bell requested, and the bombs were ready. Bell told him to sit tight. There was no need bringing high explosives into one of the city’s finest hotels just so they could all wait together.

At nine, Zane Grey called from a pay phone on Forty-First Street.

The mechanic had finished tuning the boat and he and Grimm were ready.

Bell got the Alice N. ’s exact location and phoned Dashwood at the armory.

He told him to take all their gear to the fishing boat and have Joe Marchetti wait with the men already there.

He wanted Dashwood back in the office to ride shotgun with Archie as backup.

Just twenty minutes later came the call Bell dreaded, but which also shot a load of adrenaline through his system like he’d never felt before. Edie Tobin said without preamble, “The ship was spotted ten miles north of Eatons Neck by some oystermen who just got in.”

“What time?”

“Dawn.”

“That’s three hours ago.”

“Like I said, the oystermen just got back into port and dropped a nickel to me.”

Bell realized he wasn’t familiar with the location. “Remind me again where Eatons Neck is.”

“Long Island Sound in Huntington Bay.”

The news rocked Bell back on his heels. For whatever reason he’d always assumed that Rath would arrive in New York through the Verrazano Narrows.

It was how shipping traditionally arrived and so he’d never considered any alternatives.

Now that he knew the truth, it made some sense.

There was far less boat traffic along the northern shores of Long Island, and if he and his men abandoned the Saarland after the attack rather than risk being hunted down, there were far fewer witnesses to the north than in the harbor proper.

And Lord knew the guns on the battleship had the range to hit just about anywhere in the city from the top of the East River.

“We don’t have much time,” he said to Eddie. “Keep calling in updates as you get them, okay?”

“Will do, boss man.”

All morning, Bell had had secretaries calling in every agent on the books, including hotel detectives and guards not on duty.

He needed manpower for the next phase. The bullpen was filled to almost overflowing, and the din of conversation was like a locomotive passing by.

Bell climbed up onto one of the desks, placed two fingers in his mouth, and whistled around them so shrilly that the crowd instantly fell silent.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I just heard from Eddie. The Saarland was spotted at dawn in Long Island Sound about forty miles from the East River. They should be within striking distance in another two hours or so. It’s time for you all to head out.

Check the sheet by the door for your assignments.

Each of you will stay close to one of the likely targets—but not too close in case they get lucky with their first salvo. ” That drew a couple of grim chuckles.

“And not too far in case they’re lousy shots,” someone called from the back to more laughter.

Bell continued. “The moment you hear or see anything, call the office and tell us where. That will be James and Archie’s cue to head out and hunt Balka Rath. We have only one chance to get this right or a lot of innocent people are going to die today. Now let’s go. On the jump.”

Bell took Archie and James Dashwood aside by the door to the outside hallway. “You watch yourselves. Once Hanna points out the correct truck, have her get out with cab fare back here. She doesn’t need to see your takedown if her brother might become a collateral kill.”

“I was already planning on it,” Archie said.

“That’s likely a lie, but I’ll let you get away with it. Good luck and happy hunting.” Bell shook both their hands and dashed out of the office.

The uniformed bellman on duty saw him striding through the lobby and recognized the look on Bell’s face. He didn’t bother holding the door but instead rushed out onto Forty-Second Street with his whistle to hail a taxi. The cab was at the curb just seconds after Bell exited the hotel.

“Thanks, Carmine,” Bell said as he ducked into the back of the idling Ford.

He gave the cabbie the address where the Alice N.

was berthed and tried to clear his mind for the short ride.

He had his own near-impossible mission to worry about.

Archie and James were more than capable enough to deal with Balka Rath.

But like any good leader, he hated ordering men into danger that he himself wouldn’t face.

The commercial marina at Fortieth Street was just a handful of slips, mostly small lightering boats to take cargo from wharf to wharf or out to a ship that hadn’t yet gotten a berth.

He saw that Grimm had removed his boat’s masts.

They both lay on the dock next to the fishing craft.

There was no sign of Joe Marchetti or Grimm and Grey.

He guessed they were below checking gear.

He paid the cabbie and gave him an exorbitant tip rather than wait for change and rushed down to the Alice N .

“Ahoy, the boat,” he called as he jumped aboard. “Captain Grimm, we need to leave.”

The three men came up from the lounge.

“They here?” Zane asked.

“Long Island Sound. We have maybe an hour, two tops.”

“Then it’s a good thing you brought me a real sailor, Beacon Hill,” Grimm said with good-natured gruffness and backhanded Joe playfully in the chest.

“Funny.” Bell shook Joe Marchetti’s hand. “Been a while. How are you?”

“Grateful Helen wants a long engagement.”

Marchetti had classic Italian looks with olive skin, dark hair and eyes.

He was just a couple years out of Annapolis, but still looked young enough to be a midshipman.

Bell knew his youth and slim build hid a sharp, penetrating mind and a fierce competitiveness that was beginning a meteoric rise within the Navy’s ranks.

He was the first from his class to be promoted to lieutenant junior grade.

Grimm already had the engines fired while Grey cast off the lines.

“Thanks again for agreeing to come with me,” Bell told Marchetti. “Your help will be invaluable. Did you get everything?”

The engine’s rumble deepened as Grimm backed the fishing boat out of her slip and into the East River.

The river wasn’t really a river at all, but a part of Long Island Sound that wrapped around the western tip of the island close to Manhattan.

There was no current, but it did experience the ebb and flow of the tides.

The tide was flowing out, which gave them another bit of speed, while at the same time slowing the Saarland .

“Bombs, weapons, clothes, ladder, the lot,” Joe assured him.

“Good, because—”

The boom hit them just then, a concussive burst of noise that while distant rattled their chests.

It was followed a moment later by a scream that seemed to be tearing the atmosphere apart.

It was a scream that ended with another distant blast that rose above the buildings of New York in a cloud of white smoke and black, sooty dust.

Not that he could have moved any faster, but Bell cursed himself for already being too late.