by Bob Blanton
“Good, anything else?”
“Still reviewing CCTV footage from the surrounding area,” Agent Castro said. “The police have cars at all the airport entrances looking out for the van.”
“Now why doesn’t that make me feel good?” Agent Caruthers asked. “Because it means we’re waiting to react to them. I want to get ahead of this thing!”
Matthew tracked events until 1:00 a.m. EST, 10:00 p.m. local time, then he went to bed. He set his alarm for 2:30 a.m. Given that the airport was the likely target, it didn’t make sense for anything to happen until the next morning around 6:00 a.m. EST, so 3:00 a.m. his time. “I need some sleep,” he said to himself.
◆ ◆ ◆
“How’s that lead you’re tracking coming?” Agent Caruthers asked. Matthew had just tuned in.
“The garage where the landscaper gets his vehicles serviced is just eight blocks away from the landscaper’s place of business. Its owner is another known white supremacist.”
“Castro, let’s go! Text me the address, and get me a warrant for that garage.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“And Giacomo, good work. Keep tracking the other leads. I hope this garage is it. If it isn’t, then we know they’re operating somewhere in this area. Right now, we might as well get into the field and try to get ahead of this thing.”
◆ ◆ ◆
Matthew watched Agent Caruthers and four other agents pile into two SUVs. They raced down the street and across town to the garage.
“Do I have a warrant yet?” Agent Caruthers shouted into her mic, as her SUV skidded to a stop in front of a garage. All the agents piled out and ran to the front door.
“One minute,” Agent Giacomo’s voice came back. “We’re just giving the judge the details now… Okay you have it.”
“Kick in the door!”
“FBI! FBI!”
“The place is deserted!”
“Keep checking!”
“Clear! Clear!”
“This is the van,” Agent Castro yelled. “Ma’am, this is the van, but it’s empty. Where’s the bomb?”
“See these fertilizer bags, they’re all empty. Where’s the fertilizer?”
“This drum looks like it contained diesel.”
“That means there is a bomb, so where is it?” Agent Caruthers demanded.
“Wait, the garage has security cameras,” Agent Castro yelled, as he ran into the office.
Agent Caruthers followed Agent Castro into the office. He was working on the digital recorder that was part of the garage’s security system.
“There are six cameras,” he said. “I’ll start going backwards in fast motion. We can watch all six cameras at once on the monitor here.”
“Here we go. All right, here we are entering the premises at five-thirty,” Agent Castro let the recording run for a few seconds so they could make out what was happening. “Backing up… backing up… next sign of activity is this ‘57 Chevy Bel Air leaving the garage at four-thirty.”
“Keep going.”
“Backing up… Here they’re putting a tarp over something behind the front seat. “Backing up… backing up… Here you can see them putting barrels into the car. They look heavy but the car isn’t sagging like you’d expect,” Agent Castro said. “Backing up… backing up… They put four in the trunk and six behind the front seat.”
“Keep going through it,” Agent Caruthers said, as she walked out of the office and into the garage again. “What do we have?”
“I’ve got packaging for heavy duty leaf springs here,” called out one agent.
“There are a bunch of remnants from fifty-five gallon drums. They look like they’re from drums that were cut down to about two and a half feet tall.”
“This is the back seat from an old car.”
“Okay, the van was too obvious,” said Agent Caruthers. “So they’ve modified a ‘57 Chevy to carry the bomb. They’re big, heavy cars, so it can handle the weight. Get a BOLO out on that car. It’s a black ‘57 Bel Air hardtop, white on the fins. Castro, do you have a license number?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Good, we have to stop that car at all cost. Don’t let it into the airport.”
Matthew zoomed his portal up to get a bird’s-eye view of the area around the garage. One hour was a long time, and the airport was only twenty minutes away. He’d Googled the peak arrival times at Dulles and they were between 6:00 and 8:30, so it made sense that they wouldn’t head straight to the airport. Any car left at the curb would be towed away, he thought. Putting it in the parking garage would go unnoticed, but then you would only get a few people and cars.
“No, they must be planning on leaving it at the curb and setting it off right away,” Matthew thought. “Maybe they’ve even planned to set it off as they drive up to the curb.”
At 6:00 a.m. there wasn’t much traffic around Herndon, but they could be anywhere. He flicked back to Caruthers to see if they had any luck.
“On Innovation Avenue,” Agent Castro called out.
“Tell them to pull it over, crash into it if they have to,” Agent Caruthers yelled back.
Matthew zoomed out; he knew where Innovation Avenue was, and the police lights and siren removed any doubt as to where the ‘57 Chevy was. He brought his portal into the speeding vehicle. There were two men in the front seat, the back seat area, minus the seat, had six drums in it and was covered by a nicely fitted tarp. The trunk had an additional four drums.
The police SUV was pulling up beside the Chevy. “Pull over and stop!” they blared over their loudspeaker. The police SUV was a big vehicle, but the Chevy would be like a tank with all that extra weight in it, Matthew thought.
Matthew heard the cop in the passenger seat tell the driver, “Let’s force them off the road at the curve ahead.”
“We just got this new ride,” the cop who was driving said. “They’ll crush us.”
“Just do it!”
Matthew looked ahead and saw the curve coming up. He had run outside onto the street in case he needed to put his end of the portal on the ground. “No friction,” he thought, reminding himself that his portal was slick as ice when it was in its hard state. Then he opened the portal in the lane that the Chevy was driving in. He made it as large as he could in the heart of the curve. He placed his end on the street by him and waited.
When Matthew heard the Chevy pass over, he moved his portal so he could see what was happening. The Chevy had plowed straight through the curve and through the guardrail. The police had pulled up ahead of them and were out of their car. “Come out with your hands up,” they blared over the loudspeaker.
Matthew could see that the terrorists were going to detonate the bomb. The blast would surely kill the police officers. He opened his portal above him and the other end between the car and the police. He angled up at about thirty degrees so it would redirect the blast. Seconds later, a huge sonic boom went off shattering windows in houses around Matthew’s neighborhood.
Matthew covered his ears, they were ringing so hard. “I should have made it hard,” he said to himself, it would have kept the sound from transmitting through the portal. Car alarms were going off all up and down the street and people were starting to come out of their houses.
“Matt, what happened?” Jennifer yelled, when she came out on her front porch.
“Matthew, what are you doing out here?” Mrs. Brandt demanded. Matthew could hear Jessica crying in the background.
“I don’t know. A sonic boom I guess.”
“Those jets from Miramar,” Mr. Reeves said, as he and his wife came out behind Jennifer.
Matthew checked on the cops. They and their vehicle were fine, but the surrounding area showed the devastation from the blast. Trees along the highway were leveled and debris from the Chevy was scattered all around the area.
“Hey, our ride didn’t get damaged,” the driver said.
“Call it in,” his partner said, shaking his head.
◆ ◆
◆
“Matt, did you hear that sonic boom this morning?” Emily asked, as they were standing outside of their International Relations class.
“Yes, it was right above our street,” Matthew said. “It shattered some of our windows.”
“Oh my, any idea what caused it?”
“Me,” whispered Matthew.
“What? How?”
“The cops were chasing a car with a fertilizer bomb in it. When they forced it off the road, the terrorists were getting ready to set it off. I used my portal to protect the cops. Of course the other end was above me, so boom!”
“Wow, how are they going to explain that?”
“Explain what?”
“Both,” Emily said.
“The sonic boom, everyone is blaming it on Marines at Miramar Air Base. The cops surviving, I don’t know. The car was down an embankment, so maybe the slope redirected the explosion.”
“I’m sure Caruthers will love that,” Emily said.
“Well she should be happy that the only people killed were the terrorists.”
“I would think so,” Emily said. “Are you coming over tonight to study for finals? You can fill me in on the details then.”
“I’ll be there. Brea’s meeting up with her friend Allison to study, so I’m free.”
“Just two more weeks to go.”
“Are you coming to class?” Mrs. Jefferies asked.
“Of course,” Emily and Matthew answered together.
◆ ◆ ◆
“Matt, what’s wrong with you? You’ve been distracted and your energy has been down all night,” Emily said.
“I’m just tired,” Matthew said. “It’s a lot of work keeping up with all this.”
“You mean Sayid?”
“Yes. And I feel like it’s never enough. Like today, if I hadn’t been checking in on the car chase, those cops could have been killed when the terrorists set off the bomb.”
“But you were there and they’re alive.”
“I know, but what about next time, and the time after that?”
“Matt, just because you have this gift doesn’t mean you can save everybody. It doesn’t even mean you have to try. You just need to help when you can.”
“But then what do I do? When I go to sleep, I worry that something will happen and people will die because I wasn’t available.”
“I wish I could share the burden with you,” Emily said.
“Maybe you can. Here you take it,” Matthew said, as he pulled the stone medallion from around his neck and tossed it to Emily.
“What’s this?”
“The source of my gift,” Matthew said. “It all started when I found that when we were in Europe.”
“I don’t understand,” Emily said.
“When we were in Europe last year. It was like the fourth day on the barge when the canal was shut down, remember?”
“Yes.”
“Anyway we had time to kill, so I decided to practice my martial arts while we were waiting. That fell and hit me on the foot. It’s cool looking and already had a hole so I could put a cord through it. So I kept it. Later I figured out it was letting me see things. I told you, remember?”
“Yes, but you never said anything about a stone medallion.”
“Oh, I guess not,” Matthew said. “Anyway, I figured out that I could only see things when I had the stone with me. So you put it on and see if it works for you.”
“Okay,” Emily hung the stone around her neck. “What do I do?”
“Relax, like you’re meditating,” Matthew said, “and think about Sonja.”
Emily closed her eyes and relaxed.
“You have to keep your eyes open.”
“Oh, yeah.”
Emily sat and thought about Sonja, “Nothing.”
“Just relax like this and fill your mind with Sonja,” Matthew said. “Oh, I see her.”
“So you don’t have to be wearing it,” Emily said.
“I guess not. Maybe it’s pairing with me like the blue tooth on your phone. Let me get farther away.”
Matthew walked across the room from Emily and tried again. “Still works.” He left the study and went to the Stevensons’ back door. “Still works.” He went into their back yard going to the very back of their estate. “Finally, it doesn’t work.”
Matthew called Emily on his cellphone. “Try it now,” he said, when she answered.
Emily laid her cellphone down and tried to imagine Sonja again. She tried for three minutes before she gave up. “Matt, nothing, come back.”
“No go, huh?”
“No,” Emily said. “How long did you have the stone before it started working?”
“I don’t know. Let me think. At first I didn’t realize it was real.” Matthew started to review everything that had happened since he’d found the stone. “The first time might have been on the plane back from Europe. I was thinking about what we saw in the Louvre and was able to go through the museum and see it all again. I remember thinking I was able to remember views that I couldn’t have seen. Like from inside one of the roped-off areas. I just thought I had a good imagination.”
“Nothing before that?” Emily asked.
“I don’t know. I have to kind of meditate and I have to have my eyes open, and I close them when I meditate. So who knows when it would have started to work?”
“And you say the stone fell on your foot?”
“Yes,” Matthew said. “And that was weird, because I wasn’t next to anything that the stone could have fallen from. I thought someone must have thrown it at me.”
“Or maybe the stone’s attracted to you,” Emily said.
“What are you saying?” Matthew asked. “That it flew over and hit me on the foot to get my attention?”
“Maybe. Everything about it is mysterious, so why couldn’t it do that?”
“So I can’t share the burden,” Matthew sighed.
“Well not by handing it off to someone else,” Emily said. “I told you that you needed a Bat Signal. That way you can relax until you’re needed.”
“How would one go about creating a Bat Signal?” Matthew laughed.
“I’ll think about it, you just focus on Sayid,” Emily said.
◆ ◆ ◆
The next morning, Matthew sat in on Agent Caruthers’ debrief as usual.
“Update, people.”
“The landscaper is talking. We’ve apprehended two other suspects. We could see them on CCTV waiting in the airport. Apparently they were going to give our guys a ride home. The landscaper says they’re the two who picked up the money at the other bank.”
“What else?” Caruthers asked.
“Examining the debris, we’ve found several pieces that would lead one to believe that the attack was done by Islamic terrorists. The landscaper tells us that they were instructed to place certain items in a toolbox. The toolbox was in the trunk of the car and survived the blast as was intended.”
“Anything else?”
“Not much. Apparently they were approached by another white supremacist, identity unknown, and told that they would be given support for such an attack. If successful, they were to get an additional fifty thousand dollars to support their efforts.”
“Keep tracking that cellphone. Hopefully that’s the link to this other supremacist,” Caruthers said. “Now how does this add up to Sayid buying options on oil?”
“No idea,” Agent Castro said.
“Well we had better get one, hadn’t we!” Agent Caruthers yelled. “And have the tech boys figure out how the blast bypassed the police and their vehicle”
“They are speculating that it has something to do with the embankment, but they’re really just grasping at straws. The two cops don’t have any idea. They said that just before the blast, it looked like someone pulled a curtain across the car. But they were pretty shaken up, so who knows.”
◆ ◆ ◆
“Matt, sign my yearbook,” Emily said.
“Sur
e,” Matthew said. “Any place in particular?”
“Anywhere you want.”
“Here’s mine,” Matthew said. “Wow, not many blank spaces in yours.”
“There sure are a lot in yours,” Emily said.
“I’m not much of a social butterfly,” Matthew said.
“What’s this, Qe4?” Emily asked.
“Oh, that’s the move Byron made to beat me in the chess tournament. Mate in five moves after that.”
“So that’s all he said?”
“What else is there to say? I’ll never forget it.”
Emily looked around, “Anything happening with Sayid?”
“He looks too happy,” Matthew said. “Not a good sign.”
◆ ◆ ◆
“Did you guys hear about the stunts the seniors pulled today?” Jason asked, as he and Alex met up with Matt and Emily. “Where’s Brea?”
“On her way,” Matthew said. “And yes, the whole school has heard.”
“Happy senior appreciation day,” Brianna said, as she arrived. “Were those supposed to be Mr. Gaylord’s boxers on the flagpole this morning?”
“One would assume so, given their size,” Emily said.
“I like them putting Mr. Jackson’s Le Car on the track,” Jason said.
“And replacing it with one of those red kiddie cars,” Alex said. “That was the perfect touch.”
“Yes, and all the empty booze bottles in the teachers’ lounge,” Jason added. “I heard it smelled like a brewery in there.”
“That might have been a bit too much,” Emily said. “Principal Grayson did not look pleased.”
“Oh she’ll get over it,” Alex said. “They didn’t break anything.”
◆ ◆ ◆
“Yes, school is over!” Alex and Jason yelled, as the five friends met after school.
“And best of all, we’re seniors,” yelled Jason. “That is all except you, squirt,” he said to Brianna.
“Hey, I’m happy to be a sophomore. At least I’m not at the bottom of the barrel anymore. Now I can lord it over all the new freshmen coming in.”
“Yes, but we get to lord it over the whole school,” Jason countered.
“I’m just glad I don’t have to wear this school uniform again for three months,” Alex said. “Although I do like the kilt, it gets old after a few days.”