FIFTY ONE.
The last train for
Washington D.C. left Penn Station at 10:05 P.M. and arrived at
Union Station at 1:20 A.M. David had purchased the ticket earlier
in the day with cash and then gone about preparing for the
evening's focal point. With the Palestinian Ambassador now dead, he
was ready to move on to the next part of his plan. David regretted
having to kill the two bodyguards, but there had been no other way.
He tried to take comfort in the fact that their deaths would
hopefully result in the birth of a nation.
After leaving the
armory, David had calmly walked back to the Sheraton Hotel on
Seventh Avenue, just a few blocks south of the Park.
He had chosen the
hotel for its proximity to the theater district, the main hub of
tourist activity for New York. With so many visitors from all over
America, and the rest of the world, it was effortless to come and
go unnoticed.
Once up in his room
David had sanitized the rifle one last time even though he had
never touched the weapon without wearing gloves. Each piece was
placed individually in large green garbage bags, wrapped tightly
and then packed in the outside compartments of his wheeled
suitcase. At 8:30 he left the hotel without bothering to check out.
The room was under a credit card and would be billed
automatically.
He'd spied several
construction Dumpsters on 52nd Street earlier in the day and he
headed west in search of them.
As he approached the
first Dumpster he checked to see who was about and then casually
unzipped one of the outer compartments of the black wheeled case.
When he passed under the scaffolding that protected pedestrians
from falling debris he found himself alone. David hurriedly threw
two of the plastic bags into the cavernous receptacle.
A moment later he
found himself standing next to the second Dumpster.
Quickly he chucked
the other two bags up and over the side, where they landed with a
thud at the bottom.
David continued west
and caught a cab on Ninth Avenue. He placed his suitcase in the
trunk and then settled into the cramped backseat.
The cabbie asked him
where to and was visibly disappointed when David told him Penn
Station rather than one of the airports.
David settled in for
the short ride and ignored the recorded voice of some celebrity
he'd never heard of telling him to buckle his seat belt.
The easy part was
over. Now he had to go to Washington and execute the most difficult
aspect of his plan.