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42
Logan forced himself to ignore the severe pain that shot up his leg when he put weight on his right foot. No time to think about that now. Noah had found a stack of rags inside the office on the other side of the room, where he’d found Cooper’s and Palmer’s bodies. Then he’d smashed a wooden chair from the same room, removed two slats from the back, and fashioned a splint. Without Noah’s help, his situation would be a lot worse.
As the Hostage Rescue Team member pulled Alex out, Logan was relieved to see her free but still worried about her condition. Broken ribs could cause other serious injuries. They could collapse a lung, cause damage to other organs, or in some cases puncture her aorta. He was angry to see her hurt so badly.
Bayne was gone, but he couldn’t be far. Noah had given HRT a description they’d passed along to area law enforcement so they could send out a BOLO. Hopefully, someone would find him, though most of the attention was on the storm. Clearing the highway and rescuing people who had gone off the road would hamper the police from concentrating their efforts to find Bayne.
“Hurry,” he said to Kaely. Another harness was lowered for her, and within a couple of minutes she was up and over.
“You’re next,” he said to Noah.
“Absolutely not. You’re injured. You go first.”
Logan looked over at the bomb. Ninety seconds. “We don’t have time to argue.” The harness dropped down. Without any warning, Logan hit Noah with a right hook, knocking him to the floor and disorienting him. Logan quickly put the harness around him and motioned for the agent above to pull him up.
“Get out of here,” Logan told the HRT agent. “If this thing goes off while you’re trying to pull me out, we’re all dead. I’m going to try to disarm it.”
“We’ve got someone here who—”
“No time!” he yelled.
The agent finally nodded. As Logan had, he realized there wasn’t any choice.
Once Noah was clear, Logan hurriedly hobbled to the bomb. He wasn’t sure he could disarm it—he certainly wasn’t an expert—but he had a better shot at it than Noah. His time in Afghanistan had given him some knowledge of explosives.
The sticks of dynamite weren’t the main concern. It was the block of Semtex attached to the dynamite. Semtex was usually mixed with explosive compounds that were powerful and unstable. It made the explosive material easier and safer to handle for the bomb maker. If mixed with pentaerythritol tetranitrate—PETN—the explosion it caused would not only bring down the warehouse but also some of the other buildings around it.
This was an extremely dangerous explosive.
Logan had a vague idea of how to disarm it, but bomb makers didn’t always follow the rules. He assumed Bayne had paid someone to construct it, someone who obviously had connections to black-market suppliers with PETN. Logan stared at the wires going into the block of Semtex. Fifteen seconds. He’d heard the vehicles outside leave, so he knew Alex, Kaely, and Noah were clear. Noah had found a pair of wire cutters in the office, and they’d used them to cut the ties binding Kaely and Alex. Logan picked them up and studied the bomb.
Bayne had tried to outsmart them at every turn. A plain bomb wasn’t his style. Wires connected the Semtex to the detonator and the timer. Usually the blue wire carried the power to the primer, so it was the wire to cut. That meant cutting the red wire would cause the bomb to explode. But Evan Bayne paid for this bomb. What were his instructions to the bomb maker? Was he determined to always have the last word?
Five seconds.
Logan took a deep breath and clasped the wire cutters around the red wire. He prayed and squeezed the handles.
When Alex opened her eyes, she realized she was inside a vehicle with agents from HRT sitting across from her.
“Glad you’re awake,” Kaely said from beside her.
“Me too.” She looked around. “Where’s Logan?” she whispered.
Kaely looked at Noah for an answer.
“There was a bomb,” Noah said.
“I know that,” Alex said crossly.
“Don’t be angry,” Kaely said. “Logan stayed behind to try to disarm it.” Her voice was so raspy Alex could barely understand her.
“Is ... is he okay?”
Noah grinned. “Yeah. He stopped it with two seconds left. He took a big chance and cut the red wire.”
Logan must have figured Bayne would use the wrong color wire so the bomb would go off even if someone knowledgeable tried to disarm the bomb. Genius.
“He’s in the truck behind us,” Noah said. “We’re taking all three of you to the hospital. You both need to stop talking and rest your throats.”
