Healy finally said, “Honey, you know, I was thinking —”

The phone rang.

He wondered if it would be Rune and how to handle it.

It wasn't.

“Sam?” the ops coordinator from the squad asked. “We got a live one.”

“Tell me.”

“A call from those Sword of Jesus assholes. The device is in a bag on a houseboat in the Hudson —”

“Houseboat? Where?” His heart thudded.

“Around Christopher. Maybe Eleventh.”

“That's my friend's,” he whispered.

“What? That girl who was in here?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, don't panic. We've got a clean frozen zone and the boat's empty. She's not there.”

“Where is she?”

“I don't know but we searched the boat.”

“What's the device?”

“Different this time. The portable got a look at it before he called us. Looks like it's a bit of C-3 or C-4 embedded with ball bearings. Not much charge. Only a few ounces.”

“So, antipersonnel.” Ball bearings or coins were added to explosive to cause the most damage to human flesh.

“Right.”

“Can the robot get it?”

“Nope. It's on the deck. Too narrow.”

Healy pictured Rune's boat. Knew it would have to be a hand entry.

“Hell, get a bomb blanket over it and let it detonate.”

“Only one problem. Your girlfriend didn't realize it, I assume, but she's docked right next to a barge that's filled with five thousand cubic yards of propane. That bomb goes and takes out the barge — that'll ignite three square blocks of the West Side.”

“Hell, tow it out there.”

“I made a call and it'll take two hours to get a tug there and get the barge rigged to move. It's bolted to off-loading pumps on shore. You can't just move the damn thing.”

“And how much time do we have till the device goes?”

“Forty-five minutes.”

“I'll be right there.”

“One thing, Sam. It's weird.”

“What's that?”

“The Sword of Jesus... they didn't just call in a threat. They said, 'Get the Bomb Squad over to this houseboat in the Hudson at Christopher.' It's like that was the most important thing, getting somebody from the detail there.”

“That's why it's antipersonnel, you think?”

“Yep. I think it's directed at us.”

“Noted,” Healy said. He hung up. Turned to Cheryl, who'd heard the conversation.

He wondered if she was going to give him one of her exasperated looks. The Here-he-goes-again look. The shield against his stubbornness and selfishness. But, no, Cheryl was standing up, letting her white patent-leather purse fall to the floor, then walking straight to him. She eased her arms around him. “Be careful.” He was surprised at how tightly he found he was holding her.

Breathing hard, in the bomb suit.

Walking up the gangplank onto Rune's houseboat. Trying not to think about the last time he was here. About them lying in bed together. About the stuffed toy, Persephone, falling to the floor.

He saw the bag, peeked inside.

Okay. Problems.