Black Friday
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 SP
IDER. 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, f
rustrated 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.”