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“We can’t just sit here,” the guy said.
“Forty seconds,” Hayley mentioned.
Kurt studied the detonator. It was a standard industrial design, not a bombmaker’s toy. He’d used similar devices scuttling a few ships. If he was right, it should fail-safe instead of fail-deadly. It was connected to two wires, red and blue.
“Thirty seconds.”
The ASIO guy bumped Kurt, trying to get a better look.
“What’s your name?” Kurt asked.
“Wiggins.”
“Back up, Wiggins,” Kurt said.
“Twenty seconds,” Hayley said stressfully.
“What good will that do?” Wiggins asked.
“It will get you out of my space.”
They eased off of him a bit, and Kurt opened the wire strippers as wide as possible.
“Ten seconds,” Hayley said. “Nine… eight…”
Kurt didn’t wait for her to hit seven. He reached out and snipped both wires as emphatically as he could.
Nothing happened. No fire, no explosion, nothing. The timer stopped at 00:00.
“Oh, thank goodness,” Hayley said.
Appearing ready to collapse, she put her arms on Kurt’s shoulders and lay her forehead against his back.
“Great job,” Wiggins said. “Did Bradshaw send you?”
“Not exactly,” Kurt replied. Before he could explain, a rumble shook the structure, followed by several concussions in rapid succession. It sounded like distant thunder. The floor tilted slightly and then came back to level. The whole station swayed and creaked like an old tree in the wind.
“The dome,” Hayley said. “They were going to blow that too.”
Another round of explosions went off, and this time the shock wave hit like a sledgehammer. The sound of snapping cables followed. Moments later, the crunching impact of a collision knocked all of them to the floor.
Kurt remembered that the dome was above them and anchored to them, and he could only imagine what its destruction would do to the dilapidated laboratory. The sound of metal sliding on metal and the appearance of pinpoint jets of water blasting across the room gave him his answer.
TWELVE
Joe was racing across the desert in a V-8 Jeep Wrangler. With its big knobby tires, powerful engine, and high centerline clearance, the Jeep’s off-road capabilities were among the best in the world. But they didn’t compare to the ability of a hovercraft to cross rugged terrain.
Joe had to work hard to keep the Jeep upright as it scrambled through ravines, across uneven ground, and around patches of scrub too thick to drive through. The hovercraft simply flew over them and continued in a straight line.
He was losing ground fast until he came to a smooth section that reminded him of the Utah Salt Flats. Out on the level terrain, Joe began to catch up. As he closed the gap, the light on the handheld radio finally turned green.
Joe snatched it off the charger and pressed the talk switch.
“ASIO, do you read?” he said, assuming that’s who was listening. “Anyone out there?”
A scratchy reply came back. “Bradshaw, is that you?”
“Negative,” Joe said. “Bradshaw has been injured. You have several agents down.”
