by Loye, Trish
“Wait!” He tightens his grip on her arm. “It’s the femoral artery. If you lift that rock, I’ll bleed out in less than ten minutes. I’ll be dead weight in two. You’d have to carry me and you have a broken arm. We’d never make it.” He licks his cracked lips and his eyes dart to the side and then back to her. “Besides, you’re right. There’s probably no secondary bomb. But if you move me I’ll be dead before you can get help to me.”
She frowns at him. “What are you saying?”
He tries to smile, but it comes out as a pained grimace. “Leave me for just a few minutes. If there’s no secondary bomb then we’ll laugh about this tomorrow.”
She stares at her friend’s face, so earnest and strong. Her eyes well. She blinks rapidly. There has to be a way. If she moves him, he’s right—he’ll only have moments before he bleeds out. Still, she has to try. She can’t leave him.
“Please, Alyssa,” he says. “Just go.”
“I can’t leave you,” she whispers.
“It’s only for a few minutes, Al. I’ll be here when you get back.”
She swallows hard against the tears that threaten. “You had better not fucking die, Scott. I’m giving this stupid idea two minutes. Then I’m bringing you help. We need to get you back to the base.”
He smiles through the blood and dirt. “Then go get a real fucking ambulance. I don’t want to go to their hospital.”
Alyssa nods. “I’ll walk past the ambulances and then I’m coming right back. With help.” She holds her broken arm tight against her body.
Fuck walking, she thinks. She starts to jog as she heads for the ambulances, determined to find Scott help of any sort. She keys the radio she wears on her webbing. Static. It must have been damaged in the blast. She’ll have to use Scott’s when she gets back to him.
The ambulances cut their sirens as they pull in. The paramedics race out, bags in hand. She reaches them and grabs one. “My friend,” she says in Arabic. “He’s hurt bad.”
The man nods. “Show me.”
She turns back and sees the scene of the blast crawling with people trying to help the survivors. Scott has moved. He sits up, leaning against the loaded push cart. He raises a hand to her. She frowns. Why did he move?
The crates had to be heavy to have kept the cart upright during the blast.
The crates.
Her eyes widen.
A split second of light and sound crash over her. Then she knows no more.
* * *
Alyssa opened her eyes to see dust floating in the air. She crouched on scratchy carpet and stared at a white wall. She was in a hallway.
What the hell?
Jake knelt beside her, held her hands. His mouth moved and at first she couldn’t hear his voice. The ringing in her ears subsided and she could focus on his words.
“Alyssa? Come back. Focus on me,” he was saying over and over again. He rubbed her hands.
“What happened?”
His face looked grim. “Bomb. Not a huge one, thank god. Are you hurt?”
A blonde woman dug through a pile of rubble just down the hall. Alyssa knew her. Cat. Her name was Cat.
Cat lifted a door off the floor and revealed a dark-skinned figure in a suit, who groaned.
“Zach!” Alyssa threw herself toward him, crawling over splintered wood.
Jake got in front of her again. “He’s okay, Alyssa. Zach’s alive. Cat’s just checking him out.”
She didn’t take her eyes off Zach as Cat felt his limbs and asked him what his name was.
“He must have triggered a bomb,” Jake said. “The door took most of the blast.”
Security and agents ran down the hall to them, their weapons out and pointed at them.
Jake stood and showed his ID. He began speaking with them while Alyssa moved to Zach again. He was sitting up and speaking with Cat.
“…turned the handle and…”
“You idiot,” Cat said. “There’s much easier ways to disarm a bomb. Next time call me.” She gave him her hand and helped him sit up. He groaned and held his head. “Don’t let him move too much,” Cat told Alyssa as she stood and went to back up Jake.
Alyssa knelt beside Zach. “So you found the bomb,” she said.
He shook his head slightly and then groaned. “Helluva way to find it.”
“I… I thought you were dead.”
“So did I.” He smiled.
She tried to smile back, and had to swallow hard against the pressure building in her.
“Hey,” Zach said, his deep voice soft amidst the chaos around them. He pulled her into his arms. “I’m okay. You’re okay. We survived.”
She lay her head on his shoulder and just breathed. Content for the moment to let Zach take care of her. His hand rubbed her back as if she were a child he comforted.
“What the fuck?” The strident voice of Masters made her snap back up into sitting position.
“What the fuck happened here?” Masters stepped past Jake and towered over them.
Zach ignored Masters and kept his gaze focused on her. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked quietly.
She followed his lead and didn’t acknowledge the agent cursing above them. “I’m good,” she said. She swiped at her face, knowing she probably had tear tracks on them. “We need to get back to work. Can you stand?”
He answered her by getting up and then pulling her to her feet.
“Tell me what happened,” Agent Masters said.
Zach stepped around him as if he wasn’t there and then examined the door that had blown. “Shit,” he said quietly.
Alyssa looked where he did. The door had been rigged to blow outward, but the interior of the room was fine. Cat came up to stand beside them.
“This isn’t the main bomb,” Alyssa said.
“Doesn’t look like it by the way it was rigged,” Cat said.
Her gut churned, but Alyssa forced herself to walk into the room. As soon as she passed the bathroom, she had a clear view of the whole place. Zach followed her in.
“That doesn’t look good,” he said.
Alyssa barely heard him. Her limbs had frozen and her brain went blank for a moment. Then it clicked and went into overdrive, cataloguing the room. Two double beds, curtains drawn on the window overlooking the lot at the back of the hotel. A dark wooden desk stood near the window. On it sat the bomb.
Three large metal canisters had wires running from them to a black box the size of a shoebox. A timer attached to the outside counted down.
Masters huffed from the hallway. “Would someone tell me what is going on?”
Alyssa turned to the doorway. “We’ve found the real bomb. We have seventeen minutes to evacuate the building.”
23
Alyssa ran down the hall to the stairs, Zach right behind her. They left Masters yelling into his radio to evacuate the building. Cat had stayed behind with Jake to see if they could defuse the bomb.
Alyssa pounded down the stairs to the main floor. Her head thumped in concert, but she pushed it and her body aches away.
Later. She’d deal with them later.
Hopefully.
On the main floor, agents ushered guests from the hall. A team surrounded the Secretary and held him inside the doors to the ballroom as they considered their strategy. The bomb’s location upstairs prevented them from using the back entrance. If it blew early, it could take out the back half of the hotel. Alyssa knew from studying the floor plan that the single side entrance led to a very narrow alley, that even now had guests and staff evacuating though it. A congested mess.
Alyssa pointed to the Secretary and the swarm of agents around him. “Their only option is going to be through the front doors.”
“Let’s recce the area,” Zach said. He pushed his way through the crowd, with its air of barely suppressed panic. Sometimes it really helped to be over six feet and two hundred pounds of muscle, she thought.
Outside, people gathered. Some were in their finery while other
s were in normal clothes, obviously having been in their hotel rooms when they were told to leave. The crowd, bewildered and scared, grew as she watched, joined by the flow of people from inside. A boy of maybe ten stood in the middle of the street, tears falling as he looked around. A middle-aged woman rushed up to him, hugged him, and ushered him across the road. A dog barked somewhere.
Agents directed people off the sidewalk in front of the hotel, while the few police officers who had been assigned to the event handled shifting the people as they drifted onto the street and directed them to congregate on the far side. Parked cars lined both sides of the street, impeding the progress of the evacuation, making the crowd flow around them like a stream around boulders.
The escalating whine of sirens drew closer—more help for the determined officers directing the evacuation. One officer stood in the middle of the street in front of the hotel directing the evacuation, but his German shepherd hindered his progress, refusing to move, staring at the crowd on the far side of the street. Alyssa could sympathize; the swelling crowd made her want to freeze, too.
“We could clear the sidewalk on this side of the street,” Zach said, “and get the Secretary down the block to a car, but I’m worried about a sniper.”
They both looked up. A sniper would be able to easily take out anyone out here.
Alyssa shook her head. “That’s not her MO.”
Agent Masters and his team came on the scene, forcibly moving the crowd along. The shepherd barked once. The officer snapped a command and the dog heeled.
Alyssa felt as if time slowed. Memories coalesced in her mind, making every sensation overwhelming. The sirens in the distance. A child crying. The dog barking.
She grabbed Zach’s arm. “There’s another bomb.”
“What?” he said. “Where?”
“Here.” She waved her arm around her. “It’s exactly what she did in Iraq. An initial small bomb. Everyone rushes to the site. Then a secondary and much larger explosion.”
Zach scanned the crowd. “Where?”
The dog. It was a sniffer dog. Alyssa turned. The officer spoke with an agent while his dog sat, staring at the street.
Not the street. The car near it.
“Car bomb.”
“Fuck,” Zach said. “Tell Masters. I’ll radio Jake.”
Alyssa ran to Masters, who spoke into his own radio as his agents cleared a path down the sidewalk on their side. “Get ready to move the Secretary. We’ve almost got a path cleared.”
“You can’t bring him out,” Alyssa shouted.
Masters scowled at her. “What now?”
Alyssa indicated the dog. “Car bomb. At least one. It’s Al Shabah’s MO. You can’t bring him out.”
“We can’t leave him inside. They haven’t defused the bomb in the hotel yet.”
Alyssa looked around as if searching for an answer. “We need to find the car bomb. Maybe we can defuse it.”
“In the eight minutes we have left?” Masters snarled. Alyssa knew he wasn’t angry at her, but frustrated at their situation.
“Let that dog go,” she ordered the officer who stood near them. He frowned at her, but released the dog’s leash. The dog ran to a silver Ford Escort parked across the street and sat by it. The car’s back end hung low to the ground. Something heavy was in the trunk.
Alyssa looked through the car window. Closed boxes sat on the backseat. She reached for the front door handle, but Zach stopped her.
“It could be rigged.” He touched the PTT button by his collarbone. “College, this is Doc. We have a situation.”
“Another one?” Alyssa heard her brother’s voice in her ear.
“Car bomb,” she said into her own radio.
“Fucking hell,” Jake said. “Doc. Take care of it. We can’t leave this one. It’s too close to the stairwell that everyone’s using, the damn building could collapse. Valkyrie and the bomb squad have almost defused it. We’ll be there ASAP.”
“Copy that. Doc out.” Zach then dropped to the ground and looked under the car. “This is not our day, Firecracker.”
Alyssa dropped to the ground next to him. The bomb was attached to the undercarriage. “There’s no timer.”
“There’s got to be an antenna. She’s going to remotely detonate it.”
“Can we jam it?” Alyssa asked.
“I can try,” Zach said. “It’s more Cat’s forte than mine, but I know what to look for.”
“The bomb techs are coming, but with the crowd they’ll be a few minutes.” Masters stood above them listening to their conversation. “We’re evacuating the street. What do you need?”
Zach listed some tools while Alyssa stood back up. Agents and police corralled people at the ends of the block. A stream of hotel and gala guests continued to exit the building, being hurried to one of the corrals by officers who continued to arrive on scene.
“She would have to have line of sight, right?” Alyssa asked Zach.
“From the looks of this, yes,” he said. He shook his head. “She could be in any of these buildings with a decent view. I’m going to work on the bomb. It’s our only chance.”
He lay on the ground and an officer ran up to them and handed over the tools Zach had asked for. Zach scooted his head and shoulders under the car. He didn’t need to go far. If it blew, there was no way he’d survive. Alyssa swallowed and looked again at the boxes in the backseat. If it blew, no one in the area would survive.
Zach stuck his head out from under the car. “I’ve got this. The bomb techs will be here soon. Go look for Reynolds. Check inside the buildings.”
He wanted her to go? But what if he needed help? Besides, Masters already had men checking the buildings around them. She wouldn’t do any good knocking door to door. She frowned at him. His eyes pleaded with her, a plea she’d seen once before on her friend’s face. “You want me away from here,” she said.
“Go, Firecracker. Please. This could go any second and it’s freaking me out that you’re standing here.”
“I’m NYPD, Zach. I don’t run from danger.” She forced a light tone to her voice. “Besides, partner, who’s going to save your ass if you get in trouble?”
His jaw clenched before he smiled grimly. “Stubborn and sexy,” he said. “A combination I can’t resist.” He slid back under the car.
She pushed away the little thrill his words gave her and focused her gaze on the crowd. She hated standing there feeling helpless, waiting to see if a bomb went off. Nausea rolled through her. Her breathing quickened.
Focus, Alyssa. Don’t lose it.
Zach was counting on her.
“Where are you, Beth Reynolds?” Alyssa said, more to herself.
“You see her?” Zach’s sharp voice came from under the car.
“Not yet. But she can’t be far. She wants to see you die as well as the Secretary of Defense. She’s got to be here.” Alyssa ran a hand through her hair.
Parked behind the Escort was a black SUV. Alyssa hopped up on the hood, thankful yet again she’d insisted on boots, and climbed onto its roof. No car alarm went off, so it was probably a fed’s car, open and ready to use. She turned and looked at both ends of the street.
People poured from the hotel and streamed down the road and opposite sidewalk in both directions, like a multicolored fountain of water coming from the main doors. Masters’ agents had most of it under control, keeping everyone moving and suppressing panic.
Alyssa watched for faces. Most people looked where they were going, away from the hotel. She wanted the face that looked back. Not in fear, like the man in the power suit who glanced over his shoulder. She wanted the one who looked at them with calm focus. She swiveled her gaze up and down the street, her heart racing at the crowd swelling around her.
How would she be able to find Al Shabah? She was literally standing next to her death, waiting for someone to push a button. The street was too narrow to contain everyone. The sirens were getting closer. Alyssa knew that as soon as the emer
gency personnel got here, Reynolds would set off the bomb. They had a minute at most.
“How are you doing?” she asked Zach.
“Almost there,” he said.
Hurry, Zach. She clenched her fists, fighting her memories as she searched the crowd for her enemy.
* * *
Zach took a last glance at Alyssa, who stood on the car behind where he lay. She reminded him of a picture he’d once seen of a Celtic warrior woman as she surveyed those around her. Her silky red hair was coming out of the complicated twist she’d had it in. Her gaze was strong and determined, just like her. She wasn’t going to leave him, no matter what he said. He could see that now.
So he needed to get his ass in gear and defuse this bomb.
Now.
He shifted his head back under the vehicle, a tight squeeze for a big guy like him. At least he had a clear view of the device attached to the gas tank. If the car bomb was anything like what Al Shabah had used in Iraq, then the lethal blast range would be anywhere from 100 to 125 feet.
He’d already unscrewed the bomb’s cover and detached the motion sensor and the thermocouple for heat changes. Now, Zach held clippers next to the wire he believed needed to be cut. He had to separate the blasting cap from the accelerant. He traced the wires again with his eyes and cautious fingers. Some went behind the box, where he couldn’t see. He reached around and kept following one in particular with his hand.
He had to be sure. Alyssa still stood over him like a guardian. He couldn’t let anything happen to her. And not just because she was his buddy’s sister. She was a woman he wanted in his life.
A New York cop and an E.D.G.E. operator would have a tough time making any kind of relationship work, but he knew he wanted to try. Now he had to defuse this bomb so he could convince her to take a chance, too.
The wire he traced ended at a panel up behind the box. The electrical impulse would travel from this detonator to the blasting cap. He needed to separate the connection between the two.
“I’m making the cut,” he said.
Three. Two. One. He clipped the wire.
Nothing.
