Disco Bomb

Chapter 9

May 14th, 2017. 3:00 PM.

Bruce Dane eyed the Westshire Law Museum from across the street, frowning. It looked like a courthouse -- in fact, it had been before a nasty fire. And now it would be on fire all over again if this worked.

His frown deepened as he remembered their last jig. The cops had been nearby, placing the explosives had taken ten minutes, and for what? A six-year-old to stumble upon the detonator. Then the stupid detectives had found Delaney and now not only was his tech-nerd dead, he hadn't even killed the cops. They were already out of the hospital.

This one would work, Dane told himself as he entered the museum. The guard conveniently turned away long enough for him to skip the wand. Good thing, because he had the bomb in his suitcase.

The last clever thing Andrew had made, it was a plastic container with a bunch of wires. A soda can on the outside, sayonara on the inside. Bruce wasn't exactly clear on how it worked; he basically understood that he needed to go to the fuse box, attach the two protruding wires to matching wires behind the box, and wait. Later, he and Bailey would go on the app Andrew had programmed and hack the fuses, causing a blackout to the entire museum. A guard would come to investigate, switch them back on and BAM! Goodbye.

Bruce smiled, blending in with the happy gaggles of tourists and history geeks and students staring at items behind glass cases. There was an ancient handcuff-making machine with a picture of its inventor, old electric chairs, murder weapons from famous cases (including a military-grade sniper rifle and unexploded C4). The list went on and on. So did valuable time.

Dane finally made it to the back closet and whispered into his transmitter, "I'm here. Be my eyes, Sykes."

Bailey Sykes grumbled from the other end. "You're clear. Just go through the door."

Bruce slipped in, closed the door and turned on his flashlight. He slowly made his way to the fuse box and cracked it open. "Now what?"

As Sykes fed him instructions from their base in a fake FedEx van, Dane felt more and more giddy. The smile on his face stretched until he thought he'd turn into the Joker. Eons later, or what seemed like it, he closed the fuse box and sighed in happiness. "Today, we push the law to its knees."

"Tonight," Bailey reminded him. "Now waste a half-hour pretending like you haven't installed a bomb. I'll put this van somewhere else and come back in my car."


Later, at exactly 10:01 PM, Bailey and Bruce sat down at the computer screen, thumbs poised over the Esc button and counting down the seconds. Ten... Five... Two, one...

The museum exploded in a ball of flame and fury.