Page 38 of Radar

Chapter Twelve

Xander

Friday

Newark, NJ

The phone rang. It was Hiro. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m having a pleasant nap in the meadow,” Xander said.

“All hell was breaking loose at the airport. They had the emergency vehicles out and ready to respond in case the planes started falling out of the sky. But we’ve finally got support heading your way.”

“It’s over? Comms were reestablished?” Xander asked.

“Correct,” Hiro affirmed. “I’m having the various timelines and video feeds run through AI. I’ll have a readout soon,” Hiro said. “Hey, six-million-dollar man, I watched you running on CCV. You’re in pretty good shape.”

“Surprising how a body responds to existential threat,” Xander said. “What’s this about six million dollars?”

“A seventies TV reference, let it go,” Hiro said. “Listen, even if the contents of the case melted, there was obviously something there that the owner, supposedly Orest, didn’t want seen. Good find. Radar gets a steak from me next time you’re in town.”

“I’ll tell him. I didn’t hear anything that sounded like a crash. Did all the planes make it down okay?” Xander asked.

“The planes are all safe. The FBI is headed your way to collect the carry-on’s remains. I need you to sit tight.”

“Well, I’m lying tight.” Xander reached up to scritch Radar. “That’s the best you’re going to get from us right now.”

“Fair.”

“What was the reach of the communications outage?” Xander asked.

“Just the Newark tower. Cell phones and computer systems in the area were unaffected throughout.”

“Interesting. I don’t remember the machine doing anything like that before. It only affected air traffic control? And it hit Newark, New Jersey, but didn’t hit Manhattan, NY? How is that possible?”

“I don’t know,” Hiro said.

Xander sat up. “How?”

“Idon’tknow.”

“Theory: The Zorics were testing their ability to cause a mass casualty event, specifically in a high-traffic hub. They meant to turn on the machine, test it, and shut it down once they had verification of efficacy.”

“Okay. Possible,” Hiro said.

“Theory: Occam’s Razor.”

“Your favorite,” Hiro said with a crunch.

“Because it’s true. Usually, the simplest answer is the correct one. Are you eating again?”

“I’m shoving carbs in my face at a distressing rate. I’m getting too old for battlefield nerves. Back to your Occam’s Razor. In this case, the simplest solution is that the briefcase and the tower communications issues are unrelated and just happened to transpire in a tight time frame.”

“Simple,” Xander said. “But so is sticking your head in the sand and not seeing anything that’s going on around you.”

Hiro didn’t respond.

“Let’s wait to see what AI pulls up before we speculate,” Xander finally said.

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