Stone - 25 - Collateral Damage

station lights came on.
    “Shit!” she yelled, and kept on, making her way toward the escalator, now operating. She ran up the moving steps, yelling at people, moving as fast as she could in the crowd. The station level was only a few yards ahead. She broke free of the crowd at the top of the escalator and ran toward the exit. She couldn’t see anyone who looked like Jasmine.
    She got through the exit stile and ran toward the street, the daylight welcoming her. Then she was on the sidewalk, looking both ways. Traffic was at a halt. She leaped onto the hood of a taxi and climbed on top, giving her a good view in both directions.
    Troy joined her, saying nothing, just looking.
    “Anything?” Holly asked.
    “Nothing,” Troy replied.
    Holly let out a lungful of air. “That’s what I see, too,” she said.
    The cabdriver got out of his cab. “Hey!” he yelled. “What the fuck are you doing?”
    “Tap dancing on your roof,” Holly replied.

Holly went through the building, checking who was out. “A lot of us had lunch at that place two or three times a week,” a secretary told her. Holly made a list of names of people not in the building. Finally, she went down and called the director.
    “Holly, I’ve been waiting for your call. I was told you were in pursuit.”
    “I was, with a security guard named Troy, and we came close. She was on the subway, but she made it back onto the tracks and to the station while we were dealing with knots of passengers. She disappeared on Lexington Avenue.”
    “Casualties?”
    “Don’t know yet,” Holly replied. “Fourteen people are not in the office, plus one who called in sick. The restaurant that was bombed was popular with our people, so we’re looking at losses. I haven’t heard the news reports, but I don’t see how anybody inside the place could survive that explosion. We’re going to have to keep everybody in the building for their whole shifts until we get Jasmine and her bunch.”
    “Issue that order soonest,” Kate replied. “Call me back when you have a body count. I want names.”
    “Yes, ma’am.” Holly hung up, wrung out from her massive expenditure of adrenaline. She closed the door and locked it, then flopped onto the sofa and was quickly asleep.
    —
    She was awakened later by someone hammering on her door, and she struggled to her feet and opened it. A woman she recognized as an analyst was standing there, holding a sheet of paper.
    “What time is it?” Holly asked.
    “Five minutes to four,” the woman replied, handing her the sheet. “This is a list of everybody who didn’t come back from lunch.”
    “Sorry, I was out,” Holly said, taking the list.
    “I understand.”
    Holly looked at the list. “They should all be back?”
    “Yes. We’ve got one out sick, the rest are all accounted for.”
    “Spread the word: nobody goes out for lunch during a shift. If the food in the cafeteria isn’t good enough, I’ll do something about it.”
    “I’ll do that,” the woman said, “and we could use a proper chef, instead of the dietitian. People say the food is a cross between prison and school dining hall.”
    “Come on in,” Holly said. She sat down at her computer and typed for a moment, then sent it to the printer and got a couple of dozen copies. “Hand these around, and put one on every bulletin board,” she said. “I’ll do something about the food.”
    The woman took the memo and left. Holly called the director.
    “Yes, Holly?”
    “Looks like six of our people died—three secretaries, two analysts, and a computer tech. I’ll e-mail you the names, but I don’t think you should release them to anyone, including families, until we have identity confirmation from the coroner’s office.”
    “All right. Is there anything I can do?”
    “Yes, ma’am. Authorize the hiring of a chef. Everybody hates the food in the cafeteria.”
    There was a short pause. “I remember,” she said. “I’ll put somebody from our design department on turning the place into a proper restaurant, and I’ll tell personnel to find a chef. I’ve got some discretionary budget I haven’t used.”
    “That’s a wonderful idea,” Holly said. “Now I won’t have to bring a lunch box.”
    “I’m afraid you’re stuck there until this is resolved,” Kate said.
    “I’m happy to deal with it, Director. May I make a suggestion?”
    “Of course.”
    “It would be great if the president, since he’s leaving office, would see about