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He winced. “Can’t wait.”
She and the rest of the crowd clapped and sang along with the band. Anywhere i
n the world, even at the head of battle, would be less painful. Except Rachel. Even if tonight was their last night, it was worth the pain of the noise.
A hooded man carrying a large backpack, the kind used to go on long camping hikes, headed toward the stage. The man squeezed and pushed through the crowd with rude determination. At the stage, he went below the stand.
Near the stage, children danced to the music.
Lev's hackles rose. Danger.
He focused his super senses on the hooded man’s backpack. His nose picked up the scent of plastic. Bomb. Enough to kill thousands. The children. Rachel.
Lev grabbed Rachel, gave her a quick possessive kiss, and then broke away.
She called, “Wait.”
He shoved people out of the way. The bomb must be timed to go off with the fireworks. Less than six minutes. No time to warn the crowd who would panic. Stampede. Crush men, women, and children in their path.
The hooded man placed the backpack under the steps and slowly stepped away while the trumpet player did a solo and the crowd applauded. He clapped as if he too enjoyed the music.
Lev slammed into him with enough force to knock him out, possibly kill him. He grabbed the backpack and dashed toward the river. He ran with enhanced werewolf speed. Faster than a racehorse in full stride. He heard the near silent ping of the countdown. Four minutes at most.
Lev dove into the river and swam with powerful strokes. Away from the crowd and boats crowded in the water.
He focused his powerful night vision and located deep waters. One more minute.
No time to detonate it.
He spotted a piece of granite on the river bottom and then dragged it on the device and swam away. The explosion went off, timed with the fireworks.
The explosion rocked the area, sending Lev pummeling in its turbulent wake. Spinning. Blackness.
In the chaos, Rachel remained numb. She searched with little hope Lev survived the explosion. The world seemed to have ended twenty minutes ago. As soon as the bomb exploded in the water, the fireworks stopped and people ran for their lives. The police cordoned off the area.
She stared at the water. Boats overturned and some nearby buildings collapsed from the bomb’s destructive force. A few bystanders near the river were injured. But others closer to the explosion might not have been so lucky.
After the kiss that left her breathless, she’d watched as Lev slammed against a man, and then grabbed the unattended backpack. Experience in foreign countries indicated, the man left a bomb. Lev ran faster than humanely possible and then dived into the Mississippi. Lev swam at such great speed a dolphin, came to mind. The blast, the only hint where he swam to.
A hero. A dead hero. No one could survive the impact so close to the explosion.
Despite the police blockade, she approached, hoping to see him swagger in. A smug grin on his face, saying something amusing, “In Russia, we throw trash in river.” Tears welled in her eyes.
“Ma’am, you need to back away. There might be more explosives,” said an officer.
Rachel snapped out of her daze. “I’m a doctor, I can help.”
“Sorry, ma’am. Emergency workers are on their way. We need to clear the area.” He waved forward the police canine unit. The dogs sniffed for other possible bombs.
The man, who Lev struck, appeared stunned and carried away in a squad car.
“I know the man who sacrificed his life to save thousands,” she blurted. If there was any chance he survived, a search team may be able to find him.
Another investigator overhead and stepped forward. “The big guy who grabbed the bomb and went into the river?”
“Yes, how do you know?”
“Several witnesses saw the Good Samaritan tackle the suspect and then jump in the river.” He pulled her aside. “You knew him?”
