Boston Blues - BLACKBIRD book 2

9. word of a fed

The blast brought all cars to a sharp stop half a mile around the Memorial. Windows shattered and all kinds of alarms were set off. People on the street crouched out of instinct, covering their heads.

Russell swerved around scattered vehicles and people standing in the middle of the street in shock, driving toward the thick cloud of smoke rising behind the buildings ahead.

"Talk to me, T!" he begged.

But all they heard was a suffocated cry. Kurt answered in a thread of shaky voice, "None of them are responding... Fire Fighters and ambulances are on the way... They're reporting the explosion at the Free Trade Bank, across the street from the Memorial."

Brock felt the burning cold spread over his chest worse than ever, and breathed deep to sound calm when he called Brandon. "Philips, we're gonna need eyes on the site. Check feeds from last night on."

"Yes, sir," replied the tech with a weary voice. "Sir, SAC Cooper just called."

"I'll talk to her. You get to work with the SCU techs."

"Yessir."

Brock disconnected while Russell steered as to hit the F1 pole position, both of them locked in a stressed silence, knowing they could only hope there hadn't been any casualties.

Debris covered the streets, and uniforms made way for fire trucks and ambulances coming and going. Smoke still fumed out of a building while the wailing sirens and shouts filled the air.

Across the street from the blasted bank, Gillian sat in the back of an ambulance, where a paramedic tended to her left arm. Her face was scratched, her clothes sprinkled in blood that wasn't only hers. She let the man work, oblivious to the pain, while she tried to gather her recollections from the last minutes. Ron had secured the bomb... She and Hank talked to Perkins—the Bomb Squad Leader... Aldana strolled across the street to join Fred... Tanya called over the radio, saying something about another bomb... Fred, Hank and her turned in horror to the van, and then... The deafening blast from inside the building two doors down from Boloco. A gust of fire engulfed the van and Ron. The expansive wave of energy threw them all down among a rain of shattered glass and debris...

She saw Cook come straight to her, head down like an angry dwarf bull.

"What happened, Gillian? A bomb almost at the City Hall gates!?"

She was too shaken to put up a fight, the scene still playing in slow motion before her eyes—Fred jumping to cover Aldana with his own body; Ron fallen on the street, oddly still, while little flames tried to burn through his thick gear; Hank's muffled groan as she fell flat on her back, feet in the air...

She replied in an absent way, fighting to focus back on the moment, "There were two bombs... We secured one and—"

"And you let the other go off? Jesus Christ, Gillian! How the hell did this happen? Aren't you guys supposed to be the best? How could you be fooled like this!?"

She saw Russell and Brock brush past the first responders, almost running to her.

Brock halted at Cook's loud, furious words, the burning cold of fear giving room to a sudden tinkling in his hands that clenched them in fists. She was a woman, she was in shock and injured, and she'd just saved a lot of lives. And yet the man was yelling at her like that in front of a hundred people.

Cook's rant was bound to make a corpse react, but before Gillian could even come up with an answer, Russell called out loud, "Reg! You okay?"

Cook spun around and scowled at Russell, who ignored him to go to Gillian's side. And then he spotted Brock, launched straight toward him with a glaring scowl and his fists as tightly clenched as his teeth.

The captain turned to her again. "You called the FBI!? I never authorized this!!"

Brock materialized by the man, forcing himself to not punch him right then and there. "Captain Cook, I'm Agent Brockner—"

"So what!" Cook yelled at him.

Brock was a whole head taller, and he glowered coldly down at him to say, "A word, Captain. Now."

As Cook followed Brock with a loud snort, Gillian tried to tell Russell what had happened. She was lucid enough to start by saying that Aldana was alive, but they'd taken her to the hospital along with the rest of the team, and Ron didn't look... She trailed off, incapable of finishing at the idea that something had gone worse than she thought for any of them.

Russell held her tight, but she patted his back. "Go, Russ, go to the hospital, check on them for me," she said.

Brock stopped a few steps away, where he could keep an eye on Gillian, as Russell ran past him back to his car.

"Captain, we're only here to help, and Lieutenant Gillian did right calling us," said Brock, still glaring at Cook but keeping his voice dead calm.

Cook didn't make a secret of his agenda. "Of course! We waste our taxes on an elite unit and they can't even defuse a damned bomb without blowing half the city up! And bringing the feds in!"

Brock counted to ten. "Captain, Gillian assessed the threat correctly, and her team neutralized another bomb late last night."

"But they missed this one!"

"They didn't. Without their early search, two bombs would've gone off during the rush hour, and you would be counting bodies by the dozen."

"That's not enough! No bomb should've gone off! And it sure doesn't justify Gillian calling you feds in, when she can request all the backup she needs from our department! So thank you very much, Mister Special Agent, but we're taking this from here!"

Brock's voice was gauged to flood the street with ice as he leaned toward Cook. "Let me remind you that banks are federal territory, and this is domestic terrorism. I don't need your permission to look into this attack, because it's our jurisdiction." Cook was past furious, ready for the final blow. "This bomber will strike again soon, Captain, and he might be one of yours. So we will assess if we keep your department on the case."