“A delicious irony, that,” McKenna said. “Special Squads will take over from here, Sergeant.”

“Tell that to Tactical.”

“Oh, I will. Rest assured.” He placed a hand on Fenton’s shoulder before he could walk off. “In your professional opinion, Sergeant, what would have happened if that bomb had gone off while the parishioners congregated on the street?”

“Twenty dead minimum. Maybe thirty. The rest wounded, maimed, what have you.”

“What have you, indeed,” McKenna said. He walked over to Danny, shaking his head with a smile. “You have so much as a scratch?”

“Doesn’t appear so,” Danny said. “Fucking ears hurt like hell, though.”

“First Salutation, then working the flu like you did, and now this?” McKenna sat on the church steps and hitched his pant legs at the knee. “How many near misses can one man have, boy?”

“Apparently, I’m putting the question to the test.”

“Rumor is you winged her. This Tessa cunt.”

Danny nodded. “Caught her in the right hip. Mighta been my bullet, mighta been ricochet.”

“You got dinner in an hour, don’t you?” McKenna said.

Danny cocked his head. “You don’t honestly expect me to go, do you?”

“Why not?”

“The guy I’m supposed to meet for dinner is probably sewing Tessa up as we speak.”

McKenna shook his head. “She’s a soldier, she is. She shan’t panic and cross the city before full dark while she’s bleeding. She’s holed up somewhere right now.” His eyes scanned the buildings around them. “Probably still in this neighborhood. I’ll put a major presence on the street tonight; it should pin her in. At least it’ll keep her from traveling far. Also, your friend Nathan is hardly the only dirty doctor in the game. So I think the dinner should go ahead as planned. Sure now, it’s a calculated risk, but one worth taking.”

Danny searched his face for the joke.

“You’re this close,” McKenna said. “Bishop asked for your writing. You gave it to him. Now he’s asked you to dinner. Fraina, I bet you all the gold in Ireland, will be there.”

“We don’t know that for—”

“We do,” McKenna said. “We can infer it. And if all the stars align and Fraina takes you up to the offices of Revolutionary Age?”

“What? You want me to just say, ‘Hey, while we’re all chummy, mind giving me the mailing list of your entire organization?’ Something like that?”

“Steal it,” McKenna said.

“What?”

“If you get inside the offices, fucking steal it, lad.”

Danny stood, his balance still a little off, one of his ears still plugged up. “What is so all-important about these lists?”

“They’re a way to keep tabs.”

“Tabs.”

McKenna nodded.

“You’re so full of shit you could fill a barn.” Danny walked down the steps. “And I’m not going to be anywhere near the offices. We’re meeting in a restaurant.”

McKenna smiled. “All right, all right. Special Squads will give you some insurance, make sure these Bolshies don’t even think of looking at you funny for a couple of days. Will that make you happy?”