MARTIN'S THORN IN THE FLESH at that moment was being able to connect two possible secret service agents to the course of an attack on the President himself.
Were they participants in a coup d'état?
His conversation and thoughts were interrupted by the ringing of the phone. Martin answered:
— I have good news! You know that car I told you about? I got a good price on it. Come see it! On that corner in two hours!
Before Martin could answer, he hung up.
The call seemed confusing, but he understood what it meant. Seeing his friend speak in codes showed that he was under some kind of surveillance, and this meant that the information in his possession must be important. The place he called the corner was an old meeting place where they exchanged information in the old days, a more private place in Central Park.
That was where he was going.
With two hours to go before the meeting, there was enough time to go to his house. Taking a good shower and having a decent meal would certainly alleviate the tiredness and stress. That's what the FBI agent did.
WHEN HE ARRIVED HOME, as always, he turned on the TV at a volume that was audible, even while he was taking a shower, and looked for clean clothes in the closet. A good jet of hot water was really refreshing after so much time spent holed up in the Bureau.
The pre-prepared food wasn't that tasty, but it satisfied his need to satisfy his hunger. And Martin already considered himself an expert in microwaves and frozen food, he knew all the exact times and temperatures to give his master touch to each delicacy that urgent capitalism allowed him to buy and store in a freezer.
Three more minutes and the edges would be crispy!
The news station reported on the terrorist crisis that was hitting the country and advised everyone to stay off the streets.
— Transportation will be out of use in New York. The last trains, subways and buses are already being withdrawn from service. It is extremely important that everyone leaves their work stations without delay... — Said the news anchor.
It looks like we're already at level red... — He thought as he watched the news and devoured the dough he had just baked.
The NSA had already raised the threat level for public transportation from orange to red; from now on, only pedestrians or cars with brave drivers would circulate in the city. Rarely in history had the country experienced a moment like this.
The night was already deep and the time for the meeting was approaching. The clock was almost eight o'clock. Martin picked up his car keys and some other items he liked to carry. He put his pistol in its holster and left for the incognito meeting that would not take long.