James Mercer and Johannes Frisch were in New York City searching for office space for their company’s new headquarters. The firm had grown rapidly into a leader in security and intelligence analysis, expanding from eight partners to more than a thousand associates in a short time. Moving to New York would place them closer to major corporate clients and increase exposure to foreign interests.
They had come by Acela, the high-speed rail line connecting Washington, Philadelphia, New York City, and Boston. It was faster and more efficient than flying.
The date was September 10, 2001. The following morning, they were scheduled to meet their real estate consultant at 10:00 a.m. in the main lobby of the South Tower of the World Trade Center to tour offices on the 84th floor. The space hopefully would meet their needs: strong security, discreet access, and a view that projected the success of Mercer, Frisch & Associates.
Even so, James felt an unease gnawing at his gut. He couldn’t explain it—only that it lingered. James was positive it was a warning from Grandma Jorgensen to be careful, that something bad was coming.