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Back 36 Righteous Men Save as PDF
Chapters (43)
  1. Cover
  2. BOOK ONE
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. BOOK TWO
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. BOOK THREE
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. BOOK FOUR
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. BOOK FIVE
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. BOOK SIX
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. BOOK SEVEN
  38. 30
  39. 31
  40. BOOK EIGHT
  41. 32
  42. SPECIAL THANKS
  43. ALSO BY STEVEN PRESSFIELD

She tries to speak. I’m bending over her, straining to hear.

WOMAN

. . . followed him . . .

ME

Followed who? Instancer?

WOMAN

Manning.

ME

You followed Manning? Why would you—

The woman’s eyes roll shut. I seize her hand.

ME

Stay with me! Don’t crash! Why were you at the Georgetown murder scene? Why did you shout-out about the “LV” sign?

I squeeze the woman’s hand harder. No response. Harder. I’m bending close, with my ear inches above her lips . . .

KIRIAKIN

What is this? Lesbo ladies’ night?

Kiriakin and his two stooges tromp in and take over. They proceed to give me a yard of shit—about me sticking here, about me being Manning’s flunky, about refusing to defer sufficiently to their male sense of entitlement. Manning’s in trouble with Gleason, they tell me. He’ll be off the case by morning and so will I.

I make no peep about Amos Ben-David. But my skull is spinning. How does a woman with no name and no home know one of the most celebrated scientists in the world?

Kiriakin pulls rank and kicks me out.

In the corridor I change my mind about helping our girl.

I find a corner and pull up one of the pix I took of her. I attach the shot to a text and, after a quick search under AMOS BEN-DAVID, send it to him via Facebook Messenger, Instagram DM, and to his mailbox at the Ecology Department of Bar-Ilan University in Tel Aviv.

This woman, identity unknown, is asking for you.

Maimonides Hospital, NYC.

I leave my return address in the clear.

Then I shoot the following text to Uribe at CSU, cc’ing Manning:

No print match on mystery girl in US, Euro databases?

Try Israel. A hunch.

Kiriakin emerges into the corridor.

KIRIAKIN

You still here, sweetheart?

He orders me to get my ass to ESU South Brooklyn for the SWAT briefing. I hold up a moment, adopting a respectful tone.

ME

Sir, you’re Russian, right?

KIRIAKIN

Two generations ago.

ME

What’s your take on this case? I mean the boss’s fixation on—

KIRIAKIN

The boss don’t have no “fixations,” Dewey.

ME

You know what I mean, sir. Is this Russian thing bullshit or what?

Kiriakin is basically a good guy, despite his substandard taste in team members. He straightens and fixes me with a sober glower.

KIRIAKIN

I’ll tell you what is bullshit—your hero Manning chasing leads he’s been told to fuck off from.

Dawn’s first storm-shrouded glimmer peeks through the grating at the end of the hall.

KIRIAKIN

Wanna keep your job, Dewey? Ask yourself who signs your professional evaluations . . . then do exactly what the fuck he tells you to.

BOOK FOUR

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THE SERVICE

15

EMERGENCY SERVICE UNIT

HERE’S WHAT YOU NEVER THINK OF as a woman when you embark upon a career in law enforcement:

The clothes.