Page 42 of The 24th Hour

CHAPTER 53

STEINMETZ’S VOICE FILLED the front compartment.

“Something just came in,” the chief said. “There’s an abandoned house on Turquoise Way, a teardown. It’s been empty since the crypto market crashed. Suddenly, young guys, five or six of them, college age, start coming and going from this shack. Cars are parked all over.

“Our tipster peered into one of the windows just now. Saw these boys passed out on the floor and on furniture, and several expensive industrial-grade computer setups on the dining table. The neighbor’s name is Wade McEnroe. He’s a former Silicon Valley engineer and what he saw lit up his nervous system. He called Chief Clapper, who called me.”

Joe said, “So, a bunch of college-age kids are holed up in an abandoned building. They could be taking control of a hospital network for twenty million—or watching porn in 3D.”

Steinmetz said, “You have a better lead?”

“No. Give us the address. We’re going to be outnumbered. Send backup.”

Steinmetz agreed, read off the address, and clicked off.

Bao said, “It’s just weird enough to be possible.”

Joe unlocked the trunk, got out of the car, put on his Kevlar vest, and hung his badge on a chain around his neck. He gave a second vest to Bao, then got back behind the wheel and headed toward the house on Turquoise Way under occupation by a handful of squatters who might be holding hundreds of hospital patients for ransom.

CHAPTER 54

THE HOUSE ON Turquoise Way was faded blue, wood frame, one story high, squeezed in between two taller, bigger houses, and set back on its small wooded lot. Joe knew this area well. The small front yard meant that the rear of the house backed up to the top of a hill at the edge of Glen Canyon Park, a steep drop hundreds of feet above the floor of the valley below.

Joe parked across and up the street from the target house. His mood had picked up significantly since Steinmetz had given them this assignment. He took out his phone and got out of the car. He walked up and down, taking photos of the tags on vehicles. Bao tucked her gun into her waist holster, put her suit jacket on over the vest, and when Joe came back to the car, she said, “We need backup before we go into … that.”

Joe called Steinmetz. It was midafternoon and the chief was out. His assistant picked up his call.

“Agent Molinari, it’s Farah. Chief Steinmetz left you amessage that SFPD is on the way. And also you got a call from a Sveinn Thordarson, twenty minutes ago. He said it’s not urgent.”

Joe thanked Farah and clicked off.

He said to Bao, “Car’s on the way. So we still wait?”

“Who’s in charge here?” she asked.

“You are. I’m freelance.”

“We watch and wait.”

Time passed without either speaking, then Bao reached the limit of her patience. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s move.”

The street sloped up from the car toward the house but the driveway was a parking lot to four used American cars. They walked slowly, a nice-looking couple taking in the view, wearing badges, packing. They reached the poured concrete walk leading to the front door of the shabby blue house without seeing another soul on foot.

“We’re not too conspicuous,” she said, “but I do feel eyes on me.”

Joe said. “I’ll be opposite you in the doorway with my gun out. You knock.”

“Oh, boy,” she said.

As the agents started up the walkway in front of the house, a tall, dark-haired man wearing a ball cap, jeans, and a Giants windbreaker came out of the house next door and walked quickly toward them.

“I’m Wade McEnroe,” he said. “I’m the one who called the police. You’re FBI?” he said, looking at the badges.

Bao said, “SFPD called us in.”

“Good,” said McEnroe. “There’s about a half dozen of them. Maybe they’re just rich kids with nothing to do butsleep all day, drink all night, and play video games. But I spent twenty-five years in Silicon Valley and I recognize the tens of thousands’ worth of industrial-grade computer hardware they’ve got there. It’s all new, arrayed on the dining table.”

Joe thanked McEnroe and gave him a business card, saying, “We’re just checking things out. But for your safety, please go home. And thanks for calling the police.”

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