“He doesn’t have a shirt on,” said Calibrisi, incredulous.
Tacoma stepped to the bar. He wrapped his arms around Dewey, then Calibrisi. He nodded to the bartender, who brought him a bottle of beer.
“Okay, before you guys say anything, I have three points I wanna make,” said Tacoma, looking at Dewey.
“Let me guess,” said Dewey. “You met someone who delivered a kill shot to your flak jacket–covered heart.”
Tacoma shook his head.
“First, I can’t help it if some magazine names me to their sexiest man alive list. Now, if you ask me, I should’ve been number two, but that’s water under the bridge. Second, I didn’t know about those two chicks they stuck in the picture.”
“Chicks?” asked Katie. “Can you possibly be more offensive?”
Tacoma took a big swig from the bottle.
“And what’s third?” asked Dewey.
“What?” asked Tacoma.
“You said you had three points,” said Dewey. “That was two.”
“I think I said two. I had two points.”
“Do us all a favor and put a lid on it for a few minutes, will ya, Mr. Sexy?” said Dewey.
Tacoma, slightly chastened, nodded, then grinned.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, man.”
Just then, the hostess approached.
“Your table is ready.”
They followed the hostess to a table in the dimly lit back room. They ordered several bottles of wine along with dinner. They caught up as they ate, eventually enjoying Tacoma’s regaling them with his various exploits since the fateful day he killed the terrorist in New York harbor. At some point, they all realized Tacoma was not, in fact, bragging. He was as surprised, dumbfounded, and amused by it all as they were.
After dessert had been cleared and there followed a lull in conversation, Dewey glanced at Calibrisi. His mind flashed to the beginning of it all. Castine. Calibrisi had flown up not because of the coming attack, not even because he needed Dewey. He came that day to rescue him. Dewey wasn’t good at saying thank-you, at least not with words, but he allowed a smile to come to his face. He picked up his wineglass.
“Here’s to Hector,” said Dewey.
“Here, here,” Tacoma chimed in, raising his glass.
“To our fearless leader,” added Katie.
Calibrisi smiled in silence and raised his glass, moving it to the other three.
“So what are you going to do about Gant and Roberts?” asked Dewey, after downing the remaining wine in his glass.
“Josh is spending some time in one of our more out-of-the-way stations,” said Calibrisi. “If there’s ever a terrorist threat in Biak, he’ll be the first to know.”
“Biak?” asked Katie.
“An island near Papua New Guinea,” said Calibrisi. “Apparently there’re still some cannibals running around, but personally I have my doubts.”
“What about Roberts?” asked Dewey.
Calibrisi smiled knowingly, but didn’t answer Dewey’s question.
Just then, the waitress brought over the check, which Calibrisi grabbed before anyone else could.
“So what are you up to tonight?” he asked Katie.
“Nothing too exciting,” she said. “I might stay in the city. I don’t know.”
“Doesn’t Igor live near here?” asked Tacoma, grinning at Katie.
“Yeah, I think he does,” said Calibrisi.
Katie smiled mischievously and then turned to Calibrisi.
“How about you?”
“I’m headed back tonight. I haven’t seen Vivian in a week.”
Calibrisi looked at Dewey.
“What about you?”
“Me?” asked Dewey. He looked at his watch. “Oh, shit. I’m actually going to see something.”
“Something?” asked Katie. “Or someone?”
“Someone. It’s nothing.”
Dewey got to his feet.
“You’re not leaving yet,” said Tacoma. “Let’s hear it.”
“No way.”
“Come on, Grampa. Who is she?”
Dewey shot Tacoma a look.
“Someone whose identity is above your pay grade, studmuffin.”
“So you won’t tell us who the lucky lady is?” asked Tacoma, flashing a smile.
“Tell you what, tough guy,” said Dewey, “let’s arm wrestle. You win, I’ll tell you her name. I win, I get that leather jacket.”
Dewey sat down. He put his right arm up, resting it on the table. Tacoma placed his arm on the table. Their hands met and clasped tightly together.
A small crowd started to gather in the back room to watch—waiters and waitresses, a few people from the bar—until there wasn’t any more room left.
“We go on three,” said Dewey. “Katie, you call it.”
“Honestly,” said Katie, “you two are like little children.”
“Katie,” said Dewey.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Last year, I brought my then six-year-old daughter to the Flatiron Building in New York City. This is the headquarters of my publisher, St. Martin’s Press. When Sally Richardson, the company CEO, heard we were in the building, she insisted on us coming up to her office to say hi. Sally was, as usual, incredibly busy. But she put everything on hold to welcome us. We caught up and shared some laughs. Feeling bad that we were taking up so much of the boss’s time, I suggested we should go so that Sally could get back to work.
“Now hold on just a minute, Ben,” said Sally. She then turned to Esmé. “Esmé, before you leave, could you do something for me?”
“Sure, Mrs. Richardson.”
Sally patted the empty seat next to her.
“Would you please read aloud to me?”
Esmé walked over and sat down next to Sally on the big sofa. For the next ten minutes, she read aloud to Sally and the rest of us. It was a moment that reminded me why I became a writer, and why, with every book, I’m fortunate enough to have St. Martin’s Press on my side.
So thank you everyone at SMP, with special gratitude to Sally, Keith Kahla, Jennifer Enderlin, George Witte, Martin Quinn, Jeff Capshew, Lisa Tomasello, Krista Loercher, Paul Hochman, Justin Velella, Kelsey Lawrence, Melissa Hastings, Rafal Gibek, Jason Reigal, Ervin Serrano, and Hannah Braaten. And a special thank-you to the late Matthew Shear, whose laughter and kindness I will never forget.
I would also like to thank the talented group of people who represent me: Nicole James, Aaron Priest, Chris George, Terra Chalberg, and Rachel Sussman.
As with every book, a number of technical experts offered me their guidance and thoughts. Thank you for your help: Gail Riley, Matthew Bunn, Alex Mijailovic, Kevin Ryan, Jonathan KomLosy, and Rorke Denver.
An extra, very sincere thank-you to Nicole James and Keith Kahla, who demand nothing but the best from me, and then help me find it with their brilliance, toughness, patience, and, above all, humor.
Finally, a heartfelt thank-you to my family, Shannon, Charlie, Teddy, Oscar, and Esmé. I’m very proud of you—each of you—for your own unique and wonderful gifts. You make me laugh, keep me humble, and always find a way to show me your love when I need it most. A hundred times a day, I think to myself, look at how lucky you are, the only person alive who can look at the five of you and and say the words, this is my family.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
BEN COES is the author of the critically acclaimed and New York Times bestselling Dewey Andreas novels, including Power Down, Coup d’État, The Last Refuge, and Eye for an Eye. He lives in Wellesley, Massachusetts.
Follow the author on Facebook at www.facebook.com/bencoes. You can sign up for email updates here.
ALSO BY BEN COES
Power Down
Coup d’État
The Last Refuge
Eye for an Eye
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Epigraph
Prologue
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
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
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
Chapter 104
Chapter 105
Chapter 106
Chapter 107
Chapter 108
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Ben Coes
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
INDEPENDENCE DAY. Copyright © 2015 by Ben Coes. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
“The Witness” ©copyright 1933 by W. H. Auden, renewed. Reprinted by Permission of Curtis Brown, Ltd.
Cover design by Ervin Serrano
Cover photographs: Statue of Liberty by darkshadow/Getty Images; sky by serg64/shutterstock
eBooks may be purchased for business or promotional use. For information on bulk purchases, please contact Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department by writing to MacmillanSpecialMarkets@macmillan.com.
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-1-250-04316-0 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-4668-4126-0 (e-book)
e-ISBN 9781466841260
First Edition: June 2015