The Foundation: Jack Emery 1 Read Online Free PDF Page B

sure that nobody removed the bag. At the last possible moment he stepped off the carriage, relieved that the bag was still in place and the train was ready to go.
    He raised his cell phone, entered a number and then waited. As the train pulled out of the station and built up speed, he marveled again at the science that made it work. Once it was out of sight he hit the green call button. He waited ten seconds to be sure and then hung up.
    He couldn’t help smiling when he heard the explosion in the distance, a muffled boom that shook the glass windows of the station. Within seconds, a plume of dark, greasy, brown smoke rose into the sky, confirmation that his strike had been successful. Without further delay, he turned around and walked to the platform exit. He opened the back of the cheap phone and took out the SIM card. He threw the phone into one trash bin and snapped the SIM card in half before dropping it into another.
    His next decision was what to eat in the terminal once he’d passed through security. He really felt like pizza.
    ***
    “A toast to my soon to be ex-wife!” Jack raised his glass.
    The patrons closest to him joined his salute to Erin as Jack laughed and drained half of the double whisky in one motion. The news break had shown the replay of a report by Erin from Shanghai. It was bad enough that she’d received the gig for the Standard , but she was also apparently a darling with the TV guys. Thankfully, the news break was over and the network had crossed back to the baseball.
    He was just glad he hadn’t been able to hear her voice over the noise in the bar. While Clay’s staff had delivered the papers to Erin’s lawyers the day before, the news had apparently not reached her, or else she was unconcerned. She looked as fresh, happy and gorgeous as ever. He hated that, but most of all, he hated the fact that he still cared. It was another kick in the balls.
    For his part, Jack had made a formidable effort to forget the whole thing, enlisting the help of Josefa and Shane Solomon. He’d worked with Josefa for a decade, and known Shane for just as long. Jack followed the whisky with a long pull from his beer. He slumped back into his seat and looked around the table. The others stared back at him, concern evident on their faces.
    “I knew you were struggling, Jack, but this is something else.” Josefa reached out and pulled Jack’s beer away from him. “Maybe this wasn’t my best idea.”
    Shane laughed. “I bet Jack thinks it was.”
    Jack flared. “Fuck off, Shane. You left your wife to marry your secretary. I left mine because she was fucking the neighbor.”
    With his beer now out of reach, he considered ordering another from the big-breasted waitress. She was the one highlight of the bar, which was the lowest of low. The tables were scuffed by the love and care of thousands of drinkers and the carpet was stained in some places, sticky in others. He ignored the rest of the conversation at the table and turned his attention to the game. Though he wasn’t much of a baseball fan and had never watched it at home in Australia, it would do.
    He was just about to find that waitress when jeers sounded out across the bar as the game feed was cut. Jack snorted as one fan threw a beer bottle at the screen, but missed. A razor sharp news anchor appeared, doing his best to get the public up to speed on some momentous event. He looked anxious, though Jack couldn’t hear what he was saying. It was the news ticker across the bottom of the screen that told him everything: thousands dead, a city attacked and a country in chaos.
    It spoke of Shanghai.
    “Hey, shut up, fellas.” Josefa stood and pointed to the screen. “Turn the sound up!”
    As Jack stood and swayed, nearly losing his feet, the barman turned up the volume and the sound of the broadcast flooded the bar. “ …it appears as if the attacks, which began just minutes ago, have struck at the heart of the Shanghai summit. The hotel housing the