Page 100 of Dark ’N’ Deadly

He wasn’t particularly religious, but dear God in Heaven.

Turning, he warned, “No cell phones or radios unless they’re ATF- or bomb squad-issued devices. Any wrong signal could set this thing off. Someone go outside to wait for the bomb techs.” Because they sure as hell needed them, and they needed them yesterday.

The uniforms hustled out the door. As if standing an additional twenty feet away can protect them from getting blown to bits.

Nick and Dayne didn’t budge. Not that he’d expected them to. A lump lodged solidly in his throat. Even though none of them could do a damn thing to help, they wouldn’t leave him. If they went down, they’d go together.

Tiger paced back and forth, never taking his eyes off Eric. His K-9 knew the truck was packed with explosives and wanted to be up there with him.

Moving slowly, he weaved in and out between the drums, being careful not to trip on one of the hundred feet of wire that had been used to interconnect everything. He took a deep breath to steady himself.

He’d reviewed schematics of the Oklahoma City bomb. Every agent in the ATF had during initial training at FLETC. That bomb was estimated to be the equivalent of 5,000 pounds of TNT and had taken down half a federal building. The bomb he was staring at was bigger. Twice the size, he’d guess, based on the number of drums. Some were labeled “ammonium nitrate,” others “nitromethane.”

There was no timer that he could see. He was so far out of his league. No way did he have the skills to disarm this monster.

Turning slowly, he made his way back out and hopped to the ground. Worried faces greeted him, but still no bomb squad.

“How bad is it?” Dayne asked.

“As bad as it can get. It’s on a detonator.” He glanced to where Ruffalo lay on the ground with Matt’s size-twelve shit-kicker planted firmly in the small of the guy’s back. “He still out?”

Matt shoved Ruffalo roughly with his foot, but the man didn’t budge. “So it would seem.”

“Then let’s wake his ass up.” Eric reached down and grabbed Ruffalo’s upper arm, flipping him onto his back. When the guy groaned, Eric slapped the guy’s face with the back of his hand. “Wake up. Wake up!”

Ruffalo grimaced then opened his eyes.

“Where’s Gant?” Eric demanded.

In response, Ruffalo gave an infinitesimal shake of his head and grinned. “Fuck you, fed.”

He wanted to wipe that grin off the bastard’s face with his knuckles, but it wouldn’t do any good. “We’re wasting our time. He drank too much of the sovereign citizen Kool-Aid. We need to find Gant before he leaves the blast radius.”

Heavy footfalls sounded at the office door. “Someone call a bomb squad?”

Nearly a dozen men wearing padded suits came into the loading bay.

“Holy fuck!” one of them said, looking into the truck.

Eric quickly ran down his initial observations.

“We’re on it,” the head of the unit said. “For what it’s worth, you can leave.”

The other radio clipped to his belt crackled. “Eric.” Tess’s voice.

“Tess, are you all right?” As if his pulse weren’t in the red zone already, the hushed, worried tone in her voice sent his heart rate skyrocketing. When she didn’t respond right away, he shouted into the radio, “Talk to me! Where are you?”

“I see him,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “It’s Harley.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Oh my god. It’s really him.

Tess’s hand shook as she turned the radio down. Not that Harley could hear anything over the incessant honking from all the vehicles clogging the intersections or the shrilling police whistles and sirens.

He was wearing beige slacks and a tucked-in button-down shirt when she’d first seen him exit the hotel lobby. She’d had every intention of following Eric’s order to the letter and sticking like glue to Nick and Kade, but when she’d turned to notify them of her suspicions, they were both on their radios with their backs to her. Getting close enough to see the man’s face had been the plan. She followed him out the door then two more blocks before realizing she’d walked off without letting Nick or Kade know where she was.

Now, Harley was barely twenty feet ahead, occasionally twisting his neck to look behind him. Luckily, with the crowd and her vertically challenged height, there was no chance of him spotting her.