I’m convinced it’ll work.”

“You’re saying that common, everyday fire hydrants are so vulnerable to terrorist attacks that a single person can poison an entire neighborhood in the space of ten minutes?”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

“But hydrants are everywhere!”

“That’s the point Creed was trying to make. He said there are more than 6 million fire hydrants in the country. More than 109,000 in New York City alone.”

“Why haven’t the water companies acted on the report?”

“Homeland hasn’t shared it with them.”

“Why not?”

“They have to weigh the likelihood of an attack against the likelihood of provoking one.”

“Can you say that in my native language: English?”

Decker laughs. “Homeland got the report last February, so by now they’ve probably formed a secret committee to study what Creed calls NHP.”

“What’s that?”

“Neighborhood Hydrant Poisoning. But the government can’t afford to reveal the problem until they have a viable solution ready to implement. Otherwise, the public will panic, and terrorists will start attacking hydrants like Don Quixote attacks windmills.”

She shows him a skeptical look. “Walk me through it.”

“You know how fire hydrants work, right?”

“Pretend I don’t.”

“Okay, so hydrants are connected to large underground pipes that carry water to homes, businesses, and schools.”

“That much I knew.”

“Good. Check this out.” He opens the hydrant cover with the wrench to expose the opening and says, “This part works like the spigot above your sink or bathtub. After attaching the hose I can make the water flow at fifty to eighty psi, which is pounds per square inch.”

He connects the hoses to the hydrant, the pump, and the drum filled with toxic chemicals.

She watches the progress a few seconds, then says, “I hate to burst your bubble, but all you’re doing is forcing water into the chemical drum.”

“For now,” Decker says. “But see this other valve on the hydrant? When I open it and pump the pressure in the hose above eighty psi, it’ll create a backflow.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means I’ll create a pressure imbalance in the barrel that’ll force the chemical waste back through the hydrant into the water system. Within minutes the pipes and taps of the entire neighborhood will be filled with poison.”

“But this is your neighborhood! The poison’s going into your home.”

“That’s right.”

“What about Jill?”

“What about her?”

“Does she know? Have you warned her?”

“No.”

“She could die.”

“It’s a strong possibility.”

She looks at him and smiles. “You like me more than her.”

“I do.”

“But we’ve only been together a week!”

“Two, if you count my time in the hole.”

“Don’t be vulgar.”

“I meant—”

“Relax,” she says. “I’m kidding. Wanna know what I think? I think you’re poisoning your own neighborhood hoping the FBI will blame Creed. You think they will?”

“Possibly. Eventually.”

“That’s…um…what did you call it? Diabolical?”

He smiles. “You like that word.”

“I do. I’m gonna say it a lot from now on.” As she watches him work, she says, “I know why you’re with me.”

“Tell me.”

“You want to push Creed’s buttons.”

Decker nods. “I won’t deny it. That was the original plan. But now that we’ve spent fifty-plus hours in the sack?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m all yours.”

Rachel Case smiles. “I’m told I’m good in bed.”

“You are for a fact.”

“Best you ever had?”

“By far! And I’m not just saying that. I can’t believe Creed abandoned you!”

“Join the club,” she says. “Can I be the one to turn on the pump?”

“You want to?”

She nods.

“Be my guest.”

He opens the valve. Rachel says, “Now?”

He nods.

She starts the pump. “How long before people start dying?”

“I have no idea. But maybe you should go ahead and pour the champagne.”

“Why?”

“In case it doesn’t work.”

“I don’t want to celebrate if it doesn’t work.”

He checks the drum. “It’ll work.”

“How many innocent people will die?”

“Dozens, possibly hundreds.”

“That is so hot! Are we in danger?”

“Only if the barrel blows up. In which case we die, and the neighborhood lives.”

“Cool!”

Decker’s phone rings. He clicks it on, listens a moment, then says, “Are you serious?” Then he says, “Holy shit! Where?”

Decker talks some more, then hangs up and says, “It’s started.”

“What has?”

“World War Three.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Someone just detonated a nuclear weapon on American soil.”

“Who?”

“Terrorists, I assume.”

“Where?”

“Rural Virginia. They want us to go back to Area B, Mount Weather.”

“Us?”

“They said I can bring someone. I’m choosing you.”

“Forget it.