Gone Tomorrow

in from home. And Jacob Mark had been brought in from work. They were both looking at me. Lee was standing behind her bars, about five feet away. She was wearing blue jeans and a white shirt. She had bare feet. Jake was sitting on his cot. He was wearing a police officer’s uniform, minus the belt and the gun and the radio and the shoes. I sat up on my cot and swung my feet to the floor and ran my hands through my hair. Then I stood up and stepped over to the sink and drank from the faucet. New York City, for sure. I recognized the taste of the water. I looked at Theresa Lee and asked her, “Do you know exactly where we are?”
    She said, “Don’t you?”
    I shook my head.
    She said, “We have to assume this place is wired for sound.”
    “I’m sure it is. But they already know where we are. So we won’t be giving them anything they don’t already have.”
    “I don’t think we should say anything.”
    “We can discuss geographic facts. I don’t think the Patriot Act prohibits street addresses, at least not yet.”
    Lee said nothing.
    I said, “What?”
    She looked uneasy.
    I said, “You think I’m playing games with you?”
    She didn’t answer.
    I said, “You think I’m here to trap you into saying something on tape?”
    “I don’t know. I don’t know anything about you.”
    “What’s on your mind?”
    “Those clubs on Bleecker are nearer Sixth Avenue than Broadway. You had the A train right there. Or the B or the C or the D. So why were you on the 6 train at all?”
    “Law of nature,” I said. “We’re hardwired. In our brains. Middle of the night, full dark, all mammals head east instinctively.”
    “Really?”
    “No, I just made that up. I had nowhere to go. I came out of a bar and turned left and walked. I can’t explain it any better than that.”
    Lee said nothing.
    I said, “What else?”
    She said, “You have no bags. I never saw a homeless person with nothing. Most of them haul more stuff around than I own. They use shopping carts.”
    “I’m different,” I said. “And I’m not a homeless person. Not like them.”
    She said nothing.
    I asked her, “Were you blindfolded when they brought you here?”
    She looked at me for a long moment and then she shook her head and sighed. She said, “We’re in a closed firehouse in Greenwich Village. On West 3rd. Street level and above is disused. We’re in the basement.”
    “Do you know exactly who these guys are?”
    She didn’t speak. Just glanced up at the camera. I said, “Same principle. They know who they are. At least I hope they do. Doesn’t hurt for them to know that we know, too.”
    “You think?”
    “That’s the point. They can’t stop us thinking. Do you know who they are?”
    “They didn’t show ID. Not today, and not that first night either, when they came to talk to you at the precinct.”
    “But?”
    “Not showing ID can be the same thing as showing it, if you’re the only bunch that never does. We’ve heard some stories.”
    “So who are they?”
    “They work directly for the Secretary of Defense.”
    “That figures,” I said. “The Secretary of Defense is usually the dumbest guy in the government.”
    Lee glanced up at the camera again, as if I had insulted it. As if she had caused it to be insulted. I said, “Don’t worry. These guys look ex-military to me, in which case they already know how dumb the Secretary of Defense is. But even so, Defense is a Cabinet position, which means ultimately these guys are working for the White House.”
    Lee paused a beat and asked, “Do you know what they want?”
    “Some of it.”
    “Don’t tell us.”
    “I won’t,” I said.
    “But is it big enough for the White House?”
    “Potentially, I guess.”
    “Shit.”
    “When did they come for you?”
    “This afternoon. Two o’clock. I was still asleep.”
    “Did they have the NYPD with them?”
    Lee nodded, and a little hurt showed in her eyes.
    I asked, “Did you know the patrolmen?”
    She shook her head. “Hotshot counterterrorism guys. They write their own rules and keep themselves separate. They ride around in special cars all day long. Fake taxis, sometimes. One in the front, two in the back. Did you know that? Big circles, up on Tenth, down on Second. Like the B-52s used to patrol the skies.”
    “What time is it now? About six after six?”
    She looked at her watch, and looked surprised.
    “Dead-on,” she said.
    I turned the other way.
    “Jake?” I said. “What about