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Black Friday

James Patterson




  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 1986, 1994, 2000 by James Patterson

  Excerpt from Cradle & All copyright © 2000 by James PattersonAll rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  The author gratefully acknowledges Al Gallico Music Corporation for permission to reprint the lyrics from “What’s Made Milwaukee Famous Has Made a Loser Out of Me” by Glenn Sutton. Copyright © 1968 by Al Gallico Music Corporation. Used by permission.

  Warner Vision

  Hachette Book Group

  237 Park Avenue

  New York, NY 10017

  Visit our Web site at www.HachetteBookGroup.com

  First eBook Edition: April 2000

  ISBN: 978-0-446-50595-6

  Contents

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  PART ONE: Green Band

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  PART TWO: Black Market

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  PART THREE: Arch Carroll

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Chapter 80

  Chapter 81

  Chapter 82

  Chapter 83

  Chapter 84

  Chapter 85

  Chapter 86

  Chapter 87

  Chapter 88

  Chapter 89

  Chapter 90

  Chapter 91

  Chapter 92

  Chapter 93

  Chapter 94

  Chapter 95

  Chapter 96

  Chapter 97

  Chapter 98

  Chapter 99

  Chapter 100

  Chapter 101

  Chapter 102

  Chapter 103

  EPILOGUE: Hudson

  Chapter 104

  A Preview of "CRADLE & ALL"

  I love to lose myself in a thriller—especially the rare one that moves along like an out-of-control freight train.

  The thriller that actually got me started writing was The Day of the Jackal.

  With BLACK FRIDAY, I wanted to concoct a shamelessly manipulative story that the reader couldn’t wait to finish, but didn’t want to end.

  Now get on this freight train!

  RAVES FOR JAMES PATTERSON, AMERICA’S #1 THRILLER WRITER

  “JAMES PATTERSON DOES EVERYTHING BUT STICK OUR FINGER IN A LIGHT SOCKET TO GIVE US A BUZZ.”

  —New York Times

  “WHEN IT COMES TO CONSTRUCTING A HARROWING PLOT, AUTHOR JAMES PATTERSON CAN TURN A SCREW ALL RIGHT.”

  —New York Daily News

  “HE’S UNBEATABLE… Patterson proves himself master of the hair-raising thriller.”

  —Buffalo News

  “PATTERSON JUGGLES TWIST AFTER TWIST WITH GENUINE GLEE.”

  —San Francisco Chronicle

  “PATTERSON KNOWS WHAT HE IS DOING, AND HE KEEPS THE PEDAL DOWN ON THE ACTION AND SUSPENSE.”

  —Washington Times

  “JAMES PATTERSON KNOWS HOW TO SELL THRILLS AND SUSPENSE IN CLEAR, UNWAVERING PROSE.”

  —People

  “PATTERSON LAYS OUT A TRAIL OF UP-AND-DOWN PLOT TWISTS that makes it nearly impossible to figure out the truth before he wants you to.”

  —Associated Press

  “JAMES PATTERSON BRILLIANTLY EXPLORES DARK CREVICES OF THE ABERRANT MIND…WITH ROLLER COASTER THRILLERS.”

  —Ann Rule

  “PATTERSON IS A MASTER.”

  —Newark Star Ledger

  “A MUST-READ AUTHOR… reaches out and grabs you from the opening page and doesn’t let go until the last drop of blood.”

  —Providence Journal

  “PATTERSON’S A MASTER OF SUSPENSE THRILLERS… twists and turns arrive in roller-coaster fashion Patterson is diabolical.”

  —Nashville Banner

  “EXPECT THE UNEXPECTED FROM JAMES PATTERSON…. Patterson confounds even mystery veterans with spine-tingling twists and turns that leave readers hanging upside down with their hearts racing.”

  —Columbus Dispatch

  “PATTERSON NOT ONLY CREATES A DIZZYING FLIGHT OF SUSPENSE AND VIOLENCE, but exposes the explosive elements in today’s society that make the world vulnerable to frightening events.”

  —Baton Rouge Magazine

  “Readers who have not discovered James Patterson just don’t know what they are missing. PATTERSON IS, WITHOUT A DOUBT, ONE OF THE MOST TALENTED AND EXCITING AUTHORS OF CRIME FICTION TODAY.”

  —Lake Worth Herald

  “A RIDE ON A ROLLER COASTER WHOSE BRAKES HAVE GONE OUT.”

  —Chicago Tribune on Cat & Mouse

  “CAT & MOUSE IS A PULSATING GAME…. THE ACTION IS FAST AND FURIOUS…. The pages turn in a blur…. You might just finish this in one sitting. It’s that kind of book.”

  —Denver Rocky Mountain News

  “Patterson delivers THE SWIFTLY PACED FARE THAT HAS MADE HIM A CHAMP OF THE CHARTS.”

  —Publishers Weekly on Cat & Mouse

  “CROSS, A BRILLIANT HOMICIDE COP, IS ONE OF THE GREAT CREATIONS OF THRILLER FICTION.”

  —Dallas Morning News on Jack & Jill

  “CAPTIVATING… A FAST-PACED THRILLER FULL OF SURPRISING BUT REALISTIC PLOT TWISTS.”

  —San Francisco Examiner on Jack & Jill

  “TOUGH TO PUT DOWN… TICKS LIKE A TIME BOMB, ALWAYS FULL OF THREAT AND TENSION.”

  —Los Angeles Times on Kiss the Girls

  “PATTERSON HIT THE BALL OUT OF THE PARK WITH ALONG CAME A
SPIDER. KISS THE GIRLS IS EVEN BETTER.”

  —Dallas Morning News

  “A WILD RIDE… ALEX CROSS IS TO THE ‘90s WHAT MIKE HAMMER WAS TO THE ‘50s.”

  —Denver Post on Kiss the Girls

  “A FIRST-RATE THRILLER-FASTEN YOUR SEAT BELTS AND KEEP THE LIGHTS ON!”

  —Sidney Sheldon on Along Came a Spider

  “HAS TO BEONEOFTHE BEST THRILLERS OFTHEYEAR.”

  —Clive Cussler on Along Came a Spider

  “TERROR AND SUSPENSE THAT GRAB THE READER AND WON’T LET GO. JUST TRY RUNNING AWAY FROM THIS ONE.”

  —Ed McBain onAlong Came a Spider

  Books by James Patterson

  THE ALEX CROSS NOVELS

  Cross

  Mary, Mary

  London Bridges

  The Big Bad Wolf

  Four Blind Mice

  Violets Are Blue

  Roses Are Red

  Pop Goes the Weasel

  Cat & Mouse

  Jack & Jill

  Kiss the Girls

  Along Came a Spider

  THE WOMEN’S MURDER CLUB

  The 5th Horseman (and Maxine Paetro)

  4th of July (and Maxine Paetro)

  3rd Degree (and Andrew Gross)

  2nd Chance (and Andrew Gross)

  1st to Die

  OTHER BOOKS

  Step On a Crack (and Michael Ledwidge)

  Judge & Jury (and Andrew Gross)

  Beach Road (and Peter de Jonge)

  Maximum Ride: School’s Out—Forever

  Lifeguard (and Andrew Gross)

  Maximum Ride: The Angel Experiment

  Honeymoon (and Howard Roughan)

  santaKid

  Sam’s Letters to Jennifer

  The Lake House

  The Jester (and Andrew Gross)

  The Beach House (and Peter de Jonge)

  Suzanne’s Diary for Nicholas

  Cradle and All

  Black Friday

  When the Wind Blows

  See How They Run

  Miracle on the 17th Green (and Peter de Jonge)

  Hide & Seek

  The Midnight Club

  Season of the Machete

  The Thomas Berryman Number

  For previews of upcoming James Patterson novels and information about the author, visit www.jamespatterson.com.

  For Janie, who is Nora.For Mary Katherine, who is a saint

  For anyone who’s ever dreamed aboutsome small and delicious revengeagainst the money changers onWall Street and around the world.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Although Black Friday is written as fiction, all of what follows could happen, especially the Wall Street financial parts. I would like to thank the people who helped so much in making the background information interesting and authentic.

  Sidney Ruthberg-financial editor, Fairchild Publications James Dowd—Wall Street attorney, formerly of the United States Army

  Stephen Bowen–former captain, United States Marines Corps Katherine McMahon–New York and Paris backgrounds

  Joan Ennis–lrish TouristBoard

  Thomas Altman—Sedona, Arizona

  Barbara Maddalena–New York, Wall Street area

  Mindy Zepp-New York

  M. Blackstone-Soho

  PART ONE

  Green Band

  The pure products of America go crazy.

  —William Carlos Williams

  Chapter 1

  COLONEL DAVID HUDSON leaned his tall, athletic body against the squat, battered trunk of one of New York’s Checker-style taxis.

  Raising one hand to his eye, Hudson loosely curled his fingers to fashion a “telescope.” He began to watch morning’s earliest light fall on the Wall Street scene.

  He carefully studied 40 Wall Street where Manufacturers Hanover Trust had offices. Then, No. 23 Wall, which housed executive suites for Morgan Guaranty. The New York Stock Exchange Building. Trinity Church. Chase Manhattan Plaza.

  Once he had it all vividly in sight, Colonel Hudson squeezed his fingers tightly together. “Boom,” he whispered quietly.

  The financial capital of the world completely disappeared behind his clenched right fist.

  Boom.

  Seconds before 5:30 on that same morning, Sergeant Harry Stemkowsky, the man designated as Vets 24, sped down the steep, icicle-slick Metropolitan Avenue Hill in the Greenpoint section of Brooklyn.

  He was riding in a nine-year-old Everest and Jennings wheelchair, from the Queens VA. Right now, he was pretending the chair was a Datsun 280-Z, silver metallic, with a shining T-roof.

  “Aahh-eee-ahh!” He let out a banshee screech that pierced the deserted, solemnly quiet morning streets.

  His long thin face was buried in the oily collar of a khaki Army fatigue parka replete with peeling sergeant’s stripes, and his frizzy blond ponytail blew behind him like ribboning bike streamers. Periodically, he closed his eyes which were tearing badly in the burning cold wind. His tightly pinched face was getting as red as the gleaming Berry Street stoplight he was racing through with absolute abandon.

  His forehead was burning, but he loved the sensation of unexpected freedom.

  He thought he could actually feel streams of blood surge through both his wasted legs again.

  Harry Stemkowsky’s rattling wheelchair finally came to a halt in front of the all-night Walgreen’s Drugstore.

  Under the fatigue jacket and the two bulky sweaters he wore, his heart was hammering wildly. He was so goddamn excited—his whole life was beginning all over again.

  Today, Harry Stemkowsky felt he could do just about anything.

  The drugstore’s glass door, which he nudged open, was covered with a montage of cigarette posters. Almost immediately, he was blessed with a draft of welcoming warm air, filled with the smells of greasy bacon and fresh-perked coffee.

  He smiled and rubbed his hands together in a gesture that was almost gleeful. For the first time in years he was no longer a cripple.

  And for the first time in more than a dozen hard years Harry Stemkowsky had a purpose.

  He had to smile. When he wrapped his mind around the whole deal, the full, unbelievable implications of Green Band, he just had to smile.

  Right at this moment, Sergeant Harry Stemkowsky, the official messenger for Green Band, was safely at his firebase inside New York City. Now everything could begin.

  Chapter 2

  INSIDE THE FORTRESS that was New York FBI headquarters in Federal Plaza, a tall, silver-haired man, Walter Trentkamp, repeatedly tapped the eraser of his pencil against a faded desk blotter.

  Scrawled on the soiled blotter was a single phone number 202–456–1414. It was a private number for the White House, a direct line to the President of the United States.

  Trentkamp’s telephone rang at 6:00 exactly.

  “All right everybody, please start up audio surveillance now.” It was early in the morning, and his voice was harsh. “I’ll hold them as long as I possibly can. Is audio surveillance ready? Well, let’s go then.”

  The FBI Eastern Bureau Chief cleared his throat selfconsciously. Then he picked up the telephone. The words Green Band echoed perilously inside his brain. He’d never known anything like this in his Bureau experience, which was long and varied and not without bizarre encounters.

  Gathered in a grim, tight circle around the FBI head were some of the more powerfully connected men and women in New York. Not a person in the group had ever experienced anything like this emergency situation either.

  In silence, they listened to Trentkamp answer the expected phone call. “This is the Federal Bureau…. Hello?”

  There was no answer over the outside line.

  The tension inside the room was as sharp as the cutting edge of a surgical blade. Even Trentkamp, whose calm in critical police situations was well known, appeared nervous and uncertain.

  “I said hello. Is anyone there on the line? Is anyone out there?… Who is on this line?”

  Walter Trentkamp’s tentative,
frustrated voice was being electronically monitored in a battered mahogany phone booth at the rear of the Walgreen’s Drugstore in Green-point, Brooklyn.

  Inside the booth, Sergeant Harry Stemkowsky finger-combed his hair as he listened.

  His heart had gone beyond there pounding; now it was threatening to detonate inside his chest. There were new and unusual pulses beating all through his body, opening and closing with the sharpness of mechanical claws.

  This was the long overdue time of truth. There would be no more war game rehearsals for the twenty-eight members of Green Band.

  “Hello? This is Trentkamp. New York FBI.” The plain black phone receiver cradled between Stemkowsky’s shoulder and his jaw seemed to tremble and vibrate on each phrase.

  After another interminable minute, Harry Stemkowsky firmly depressed the play button on a Sony 114 portable recorder. He then carefully held the pocket recorder flush against the pay phone’s receiver.

  Stemkowsky had cued the recorder to the first word of the message—“Good.” The “good” stretched to “goood” as the recorder hitched once, then rolled forward with a soft whir.

  “Good morning. This is Green Band speaking. Today is December fourth. A Friday. A history-making Friday, we believe.”

  Over a squawk box the eerie, high-pitched voice brought the unprecedented message the men and women sequestered inside the Manhattan FBI office had been waiting for.

  Green Band was beginning.

  Ryan Klauk from FBI Surveillance made a quick judgment that the prerecorded track had been purposely speeded-up and echoed, to sound even more eerie than the circumstance made it; to be virtually unrecognizable, probably untraceable.

  “As we promised, there are vitally important reasons for our past phone calls this week, for all the elaborate preparations we’ve made, and had you make to date…

  “Is everyone listening? I can only assume you have company, Mr. Trentkamp. No one in corporate America seems to make a decision alone these days.... Listen closely then. Everybody please listen …

  “The Wall Street financial district, from the East River to Broadway, is scheduled to be firebombed today. A large number of randomly selected targets will be completely destroyed late this afternoon.

  “I will repeat. Selected targets in the Wall Street financial district will be destroyed today. Our decision is irrevocable. Our decision is nonnegotiable.

  “The firebombing of Wall Street will take place at five minutes past five tonight. It might be an attack by air, it might be a ground attack. Whichever—it will occur at five minutes past five precisely.”