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Friday, July 4th, Astoria Park, New York

Time and again the dark sky over New York was lit up by bursting blooms of sparkling light, showering down glitter and sparks. From further up the East River, the smell of black powder wafted into Astoria Park, an oasis of greenery stretching almost a thousand yards along the eastern shoreline of the narrows.

Jubilant crowds of people lined the water’s edge, gathering at Hell Gate and the Robert F. Kennedy Bridge. They craned their necks to see the fireworks on this day of independence.

But not everyone had left their overheated dwellings in order to join in the festivities.

Jeremiah Cotton glanced at the photo displayed on his cell phone and then over at the man who was passing underneath a street lamp barely ten yards away. He had no doubt: That was Miller, the wanted man.

Cotton turned to look at Detective Joe Brandenburg, drawing his attention to the man. Brandenburg nodded and followed the suspect while Cotton radioed G-Team headquarters to report that they had found Miller.

Ten minutes went by. Cotton and his former colleague from the NYPD took turns following Miller to avoid arousing his suspicion.

Miller had been the FBI’s focus of attention for only a few hours now, and he seemed oblivious to it. His head bowed, he strode past the park’s sports grounds, cutting through the excited crowds as if there were no tomorrow.

Just as Cotton was about to relieve Brandenburg, his cell phone vibrated. He answered it with a snarled“What?”“This is High. What’s the suspect doing?”

Cotton reflexively stiffened when he heard his boss’s chilly voice.“We’re tailing him, sir,” he whispered, skillfully snaking his way past a kissing couple.

“We found a number of dead monkeys in the lab where Miller works,” John D. High said.“There were also two co-workers of Miller on the premises who are now dying. They confirmed the plot. One of them is our informant. In addition, we’ve examined the virus. Hunter classified it as highly contagious. It is transmittable by air. And there’s something else, Cotton.”

“Yes, sir?”

“It is likely that Miller has a bomb with him.”

“Yes, that is possible, sir,” Cotton confirmed.“He’s carrying a cooler.” Cotton didn’t let the suspect out of his sight for even a second. Then Cotton’s sixth sense sounded the alarm. He listened impatiently to his boss’s instructions, replying simply,“Okay, I’ll let him know,” before ending the call.

Joe Brandenburg peered back to see where his relief was. He picked up a newspaper that happened to be lying on a park bench and hid behind it, always staying about fifty yards behind the suspect.

Cotton sought eye contact with him and tapped his finger against his ear to show that he had received new instructions. He inconspicuously pulled out his weapon as he walked faster to catch up with Brandenburg.

People were barbecuing in the parks and on their lawns. Those who had attended the traditional 4th of July concert were ambling back home, whistling or humming patriotic so