There was a long pause, and then, “Holy shit, Jase. That’s a crazy coincidence.”
“It’s not a coincidence, Preston. The warehouse fire was started with charcoal.”
“Which is made of carbon.”
“Exactly. Atomic number six. And June, the sixth month. And electrons per shell? Two and four—”
“June twenty-fourth.”
“Yes, they’re all like that. The daycare explosions were from homemade fertilizer bombs.”
“And fertilizer’s rich in nitrogen,” Preston said in awe.
“And the hotel fire—”
“Fueled by oxygen. Holy shit, Jason. So, today it’s going to be the ninth element in the ninth month.”
“Yes, fluorine. And Preston, that shit’s fucking volatile. It can burn through steel.”
“How can I help? What do you need?”
“I need you to research where fluorine can be found in Evanston. I’m thinking municipal water plants, but also, it’s used in plastics. Have we got any plastics manufacturers, that kind of thing? Anything you can find.”
“Got it. I’m on it. I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”
“Thanks, Preston. And thanks for…you know…everything.”
“No thanks needed,” Preston said, his voice lacking its usual sarcastic tone. “You’re my brother.” Less solemnly, he added, “I’ll set you straight anytime.”
After hanging up with Preston, Jason made several more calls while simultaneously trying to dress one-handed. Thank God for speakerphone. He called McCann and they started plans for an evacuation of the water filtration plant. Chief Bines—who evidently was willing to let bygones be bygones after prompting an internal investigation on Jason—volunteered to hold a press conference to instruct anyone who worked with fluorine to evacuate their workplace.
It felt good to have plans in motion. To finally be doing something that could make a difference. He tried calling Victoria, but she didn’t answer. Probably because she’d been called into a briefing by Chief Bines.
He settled for sending a text.
Remind me sometime to tell you the story of how you saved the day by hanging that hideous butterfly painting. Be safe today.
Technically, he wasn’t supposed to be driving, but he’d already done it and he’d gotten used to reaching over with his left hand to switch gears. He also wasn’t supposed to use the phone while driving, but when Preston called, he put it on speaker.
“I’ve got two more possibilities,” Preston said, skipping the hellos.
“Hit me.”
“We’ve got a plastics manufacturer in town. I can’t tell if they use fluorine, but better safe than sorry. I think you should evacuate PlastiTech on Greenwood.”
“Got it.”
“And this is the one I’m more concerned about. I’ve found several scholarly articles citing research currently being done at Northwestern. On fluorine.”
“Shit. That’s it, Preston. It’s gotta be.”
Jason made a U-turn and headed back toward Northwestern’s campus. Using voice commands, he got Chief Bines on the phone and shared Preston’s research. “We need to evacuate PlastiTech and Northwestern. Include that in your press conference. Make sure if people are currently off campus, they stay off campus.”
“Got it,” Bines said. “Cameras are about to roll. I’ll get my lieutenants started on the evacuations while I make the announcement to the press.”
After speaking with Bines, he filled McCann in.
“Good work, Meadows. We’re going to get our emergency response team out there now. I’ll get Northwestern Police involved. This is going to be a multiagency effort to evacuate.”
Jason hung up and pressed the gas a little harder. Something McCann said was reverberating in his head, making his pulse go into overdrive. This is going to be a multiagency effort to evacuate.
A multiagency effort.
If this guy was targeting first responders, he was about to have a whole fucking lot of them in one place.
*
An hour later, Jason stood, grinding his teeth, in a parking lot on Sheridan Road, across the street from Northwestern’s Technological Institute.
The building had been evacuated before the fire started, and EFD quickly had the blaze under control—quite an amazing feat considering the element they were up against, but the advance warning had made all the difference.
“Lieutenant, I’m telling you, you need to get these guys to spread out.”
McCann crossed his arms, surveying the parking lot full of police, ambulance and fire. “Relax, Meadows. The fire’s practically out.”
“That’s what I’m worried about. The Tech Building isn’t the target. We are. Every incident starts with a minor event that escalates when rescue arrives. And right now, we’re a multiagency parking lot of sitting ducks.”
“Well, we couldn’t block the roadway. We needed the streets clear to direct traffic out.”
“Yes, and you’ve done that. The place is empty. You need to get every extra squad car out of here. We don’t need them. Tell Skokie to move their fire trucks down the block. Same with Wilmette and Chicago. If there’s another explosion, we’ll need them, but we don’t need them all sitting in the same damn parking lot.”
Squinting against the sun, McCann chewed the inside of his cheek. “You’re right. We’re sitting ducks.”
Jason bit his tongue on a sarcastic thank you!
McCann grabbed his radio from his police SUV and ordered Wilmette Fire to standby north of campus, Chicago Fire was sent south and Skokie to the west side. Only Evanston’s backup ladder companies and ambulances would remain in the parking lot. Then he ordered the police officers to clear the lot. Police presence would be limited to only the personnel necessary to secure the roadblocks on all four sides of campus.
Watching the suburban ladder companies roll out, he caught sight of Victoria, standing outside her rig with Bob Kearney. She caught his gaze and waved, a smile on her face. She gave him a thumbs up, which either meant good job or see, I’m safe.
Probably both, he thought with a grin.
He started across the parking lot, eager to wrap her up in his arms and finally tell her what he should’ve said last night. She started walking toward him too, and the relief of seeing her alive and well swelled painfully in his chest.
They’d covered half the distance to each other when Kearney called her back to the rig, yelling something Jason couldn’t quite catch at this distance.
Short blond hair blowing in the breeze, she nodded at Kearney then turned back to Jason, holding up a finger. “One minute,” she called out. “Be there in a second, okay?”
Jason nodded, watching her go around to the back door of the ambulance. After she disappeared, he turned back to watch EFD continue to set down the blaze at the Tech Building across the street.
Preparing to roll out, the police officers who’d been dismissed returned to their squads. Car doors slammed all up and down the parking lot. Soon the lot would be clear of all excess personnel.
Couldn’t be soon enough for Jason.
He squinted, trying to see if the fire at the Tech Building was getting any worse. From here, it appeared to be almost completely out. No sign of flames to be seen.
He felt it before he saw it. The sonic boom hit him in the middle of the chest and radiated out.
“Son of a bitch!” McCann ran toward Jason and away from the fireball that used to be his SUV. “Get down!”
McCann tackled Jason to the ground and the heat from the blast had both of them crawling to get away. Jason tried to move fast, but he couldn’t put weight on his broken hand. The gas tank exploded and more debris flew over their heads.
“Over there!” McCann pointed to a nearby squad car they could take shelter behind.
Placing the squad between themselves and McCann’s burning SUV, they both sat leaning against the car. McCann got on his radio. “Send backup fire trucks to the parking lot on Sheridan.
Police SUV just exploded. Let’s get the bomb squad over here too.”
Another explosion, this one closer to where Jason and McCann had taken cover.
“Fuck-n-A,” McCann yelled over the blast. “Another squad!”
“LT, we gotta move! The cars are rigged.” He pulled McCann away from the squad with his good hand and they ran across the parking lot, yelling at everyone to get out of their vehicles.
“Get out!” Jason banged his bandaged hand on the hood of one of EFD’s command staff SUVs. “Get out! Get out of your car!”
Victoria.
Running faster, he dropped McCann’s arm and made a beeline for Victoria’s ambulance. “Victoria! Kearney! Guys, get out of the rig! Victoria!”
Right before his eyes, the ambulance exploded, the ball of fire bigger and brighter than any squad car. “Victoria!” he screamed and ran harder, getting close enough to the flames that the heat singed the hair on his arms.
“Get back!” Arms came around him and he tried to fight them off.
“Victoria!” He twisted and pulled. “Victoria!”
“Stop!” McCann’s voice was rough and ragged in his ear. “Stop. You can’t get any closer, son.”
“No! Victoria!”
He was surrounded by shouting. More hands holding him back. “Keep him back. Help me. Get him the fuck back!”
He fought harder, dragging the weight of those who tried to stop him, welcoming the heat that burned his skin. “Victoria!”
He screamed her name. Again and again. Over and over. Until his voice was shredded.
Shredded. Just like his heart.
Chapter 28
“Chief Bines?” Victoria smiled, puzzled to see the chief’s shiny black loafers sticking out from under the back of the ambulance like the feet of the Wicked Witch of the East. She bent over to peek under the ambulance. “Hey, Chief. Whatchya doing under there?”
“Nothing. Just checking something out.”
“Oh, anything I can help with?”
“No, no. I’m all done anyway.” He awkwardly scooted his large frame out from under the rig.
“The ambulance seemed to be driving fine—”
The sound of a huge explosion sent Victoria crouching for cover.
“What the hell was that?” On her knees, she peeked around the corner of the ambulance. “Oh, my God. Chief! A police SUV just blew up.”
Jason.
When she’d last seen him, he hadn’t been far from that blast. She started that way, but the chief grabbed her hand and spun her back to him.
“I’m sorry, Russo.” He held a gun pointed directly at her face. “I sure didn’t want to have to do this, especially not to a nice kid like you.”
“Chief?” Dumbfounded, she stood frozen while he unclipped her radio and tossed it into the open rear doors of the ambulance.
“Come on.” He grabbed her by the arm, forcing her to walk in front of him, while he pressed the muzzle of the gun to her lower back. “We can’t do this here. So, get walking.”
He steered her away from the ambulance, in the opposite direction of the blast.
The parking lot was in chaos and no one seemed to pay much attention to the two people walking away. All eyes were on the fire burning on the far side of the lot.
Another explosion sounded, and Victoria whipped around, trying to see what had happened. “Keep walking,” the chief said, pressing the gun into her spine.
She closed her eyes. Please, let Jason be okay. Let my guys be okay. Let everyone be okay.
The chief led her to the tree lined edge of the parking lot. The blockades keeping the public away from campus meant there was no street traffic. Sirens wailed in the distance, but they came from the north. Haven Street was empty. Her only hope was that perhaps a pedestrian, trying to get a look at the drama, would walk by and see them.
“Why?” she asked. “Why are you doing this?”
He pushed her across Haven Street and behind a row of bushes. “Get down.”
She sat down, hidden from the view of any who might pass by, thanks to the stupid hedges. The chief remained standing, surveying the destruction he had obviously caused.
A third explosion sounded. This one louder and longer than all the others. It was the ambulance. She knew it without even looking. The size of the rig, the huge gas tank. It would be a fireball like no other.
“Why?” she asked again, her heart beating furiously.
Had Bob been inside the ambulance? He’d asked her to get some water for a hydration run for the guys fighting the fire. With any luck, he wasn’t inside. But if he’d gone looking to see what was taking her so long…
“Do you have any idea how difficult it is to run a fire department?” the chief asked.
“I can’t imagine this is making it any easier,” she said.
His eyes still on the pandemonium of the parking lot, he ignored her sarcastic comment. “For a few years after 9-11 people took us seriously. The city was willing to fund the things we needed. Top of the line emergency vehicles. Funds to hire plenty of personnel. But they’re starting to forget, you know?”
Across the street, people were shouting orders, calling for help. It was impossible to make out what was being said in the chaos, but the panic was palpable.
Bines’ voice was eerily calm, his eyes drinking in the scene before him. “I asked for funding to outfit a HAZMAT team and they told me we didn’t need that. I reminded them that we have one of the premier universities in the country—that it could easily be a target of terrorism—and they told me there wasn’t enough money. But I’ve got their attention now, don’t I?”
There was something not quite sane about the satisfied smirk tugging at his lips, and she stayed silent, hoping he’d forget about her and whatever intentions he had for that gun in his hand.
“But then you had to come along.” He turned away from the fires and pulled her up, his grip biting painfully into her arm. “I can’t have you telling people it was me. They’re supposed to think it was that hot-shot cop.”
He steered her toward a nearby administration building that’d been evacuated some time ago.
“You were trying to frame Jason,” she whispered.
“I had him too.” He pulled the door open and nudged her inside, pressing the gun into her back. “His own police department was ready to start investigating him. I figured eventually someone would pick up on the periodic table clues, and they’d wonder who could possibly think up such a thing.”
“The chemical engineer.”
“That’s right. See, I did my research on him. He has all the makings of a sociopath. Horrible past. Prostitute, drug-using mother. Sent to a military reform school. And a genius to boot. It’s only a matter of time before they put it all together.”
“But why? Why Jason?”
The chief seemed to be improvising, opening doors as they passed, looking into the rooms for something and then moving on when he didn’t find whatever it was he was searching for.
“Nothing personal. Just needed the arson investigator out of my way. I’ve been running this town my way for years.”
“What do you mean?” she asked. Maybe if she could keep him talking, he’d let his guard down, and she’d find her opening.
“You’d be surprised what a well-placed fire can do to rid this world of its scum. Dealers. Gang-bangers. You name the criminal, I’ve helped get rid of them.”
He was insane. He thought himself some sort of vigilante arsonist, but he was taking lives and there was no excusing that. “But targeting first responders? That doesn’t make any sense…”
He stopped. Evidently, he’d found a room that met his specifications. A broom closet with a heavy sliding bolt latch.
On the outside of the door.
Instinct forcing her to resist, she planted her feet, but he pushed her inside forcefully. She fell against the closet’s back wall, sending a mess of brooms and mops clattering. Turning back, she found him blocking the doorway with hi
s large frame. The tight space of the closet closed in around her, making her feel claustrophobic. Caged. Trapped.
Pointing the gun at her, he answered her question. “Collateral damage, unfortunately.”
She’d never have believed that someone who looked so calm and coldly rational could epitomize insanity so well. Heart racing, she reached behind her back and grabbed a broom handle, waiting for the right moment.
“Don’t you see?” he asked, still leveling the gun at her head. “I had to get their attention. The town wasn’t giving me what I wanted, so I had to up the ante. No one cares when criminals die. But heroes? That shit’s been all over the news for months.”
“So what now? You’re going to shoot me and leave me for dead in this closet?”
“Ah, sugar. I thought you’d have realized it by now. That’s not my style.”
Knowing her time had run out, she whipped the broom handle toward the doorway, but instead of striking Bines, it hit solid wood.
The bolt scraped and clicked when Bines slid it into place. She grabbed the doorknob, but it turned ineffectually in her hand.
“No. Don’t do this.” In the darkness, panic squeezed her lungs, making it hard to breath. “Please! Don’t do this.” She beat the door with her fists but stopped when rational thought returned. There was no one here to hear her.
Backing up as far as she could, she took a running start toward the door, hoping to break the bolt from the doorjamb.
It was no use.
She couldn’t get enough momentum in the small closet, and three attempts later, she was closer to dislocating her shoulder than she was to budging the door.
Frantically, she groped in the dark for something, anything that might help her escape. And several minutes later, when the acrid smell of smoke hit her nose, she willed herself not to panic.
*
Racing through the parking lot, Jason searched for Victoria.
Once McCann had talked him down, he’d realized she couldn’t have been inside that ambulance. The explosions would’ve lured her out of the rig. At the first sign of danger, she’d have been looking for people to help, not hiding inside the truck. He was certain of it.
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