Milwaukee Deep

Time remaining…19:47:13…

Alexander Koushov climbed into bed just a little before midnight. His wife had fallen asleep waiting for him as he finally finished putting their daughter to bed.

“What a day,” he whispered to himself.

By the time the recital had finished and the family had left their uncle’s home for dinner it was already way too late.

“Honey, you awake?” he asked knowing full well she wasn’t.

“Huh?” Maria Koushov turned her head slightly.

“Sorry, go back to sleep.”

“No,” she said as she lifted herself up a little, “What is it?”

“Nothing, just wanted to talk.”

“Is something bothering you?” she asked

Koushov looked down at his wife

“It’s just that I was on the train this afternoon - I mean what would have happened if that bomb went off earlier?”

“Well it didn’t - God was watching out for you – he knows how much I need you.”

Koushov nodded his head.

He was still a little shaken by it all.

The moment he heard about the bomb on the radio, as he drove from his daughter’s school to Lynbrook to have dinner with his Uncle, he was mindful of how close it could have been – distressed by the thought of it all, he avoided watching the television for the rest of the night.

“Turn on the T.V now – let’s see what’s going on,” Maria said.

“Let it go, honey – get some rest and we’ll see tomorrow what the news says.”

“No,” she reached over and grabbed the remote off the bed side table, “This is important, besides, I don’t want you going into work tomorrow morning if they haven’t found it.”

Maria pressed the ‘on’ button of the remote.

Regardless of which channel, the late news appeared on the screen, the words ‘Special Report’ written in bold across the bottom of it.

...We’ll be crossing live to Ben Harper within the next five minutes. Ben is stationed at Transit Authority Headquarters where the search continues for the unexploded bomb that has been placed on one of New York’s subway trains. Authorities are still undertaking the search for the weapon, and as that search continues, Authorities are still yet to find this man, David Fanning - the manhunt now in full swing across the nation as authorities try to find this home grown terrorist...

Koushov sat up.

David Fanning’s picture came up on the screen.

“Honey what is it?” Maria asked.

“It’s him!”

“Who?”

“The man I told you about today – the man on the train today – my God that’s him – that’s him!”

Maria waited for her husband to decide his next move.

“Get me the phone, honey,” Koushov said, his eyes glued to the screen, “quick!”

“Okay, so has Franklin Avenue been signed off?” Harding asked Agent Colgrove.

“Yes, Sir,” replied Colgrove, “Sergent Malkowlski called it in just a few minutes ago.”

“Good. Get Malkowlski and his men to move up the line. The next train is sitting near Rockaway Boulevard - if they can search that within the half hour, that’s the majority of line A complete.”

“I’ll call him immediately, Sir.”

“Tom, get over here!”

Harding looked around and saw Cheapers standing twenty feet away with the phone to his ear, waving his hand.

Harding made his way over.

“What is it, Cheapers?”

“You’ve got a call,” Cheapston replied and handed Harding the phone

“Hello?” Harding answered.

“I have an Alex Kooshof asking to speak to someone in charge. He says he’s got information about Fanning.”

“Put him through.”

The operator connected Harding to Koushov.

“This is Harding.”

“Are you in charge?” was the question, “I don’t want to waste my time with someone who isn’t in charge – I’ve got information that will help you and I don’t want to be disconnected like before.”

“Sir,” Harding interrupted, “yes, I’m in charge. My name is Agent Tom Harding; I’m working directly on the President’s orders. Now what is it that you have to tell me?”

“I saw the man who you say put the bomb on the train.”

“David Fanning?”

“Yes, if that’s his name, yes. I got onto the train and he hit me in the shoulder as he was coming out. I saw his face – I looked directly at him – it was definitely him.”

“Okay, Sir,” Harding replied calmly, “Just so we’re certain - the man on the television, is that the man that hit you in the shoulder, is that who you saw exiting the train?”

“Yes, that’s him.”

“Okay, good,” Harding took in a deep breath, “Now do you know exactly where you saw this man – which station were you at when you saw him?”

“I was getting on to the train at the Chamber’s Street Station.”

“And he was getting off the train, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“And what time was this, Sir?” Harding asked, hoping to God that this was not another wack job wasting his time.

“About one o’clock – I was going home early from work.”

Harding shut his eyes – finally he had found the station.

“Sir, I’m sending over a team to your house to pick you up and bring you here to Transit Authority Headquarters. I’m going to hand you over to another agent. Tell him your exact address and we’ll send someone over to come and get you right away.”

“Come and get me? But I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“No, Sir, you certainly haven’t,” Harding replied, “In fact, you’ve done the opposite - you may have just saved us all.”