Chapter Ten
Chapter
Ten
“Tell me,” Sam all but
demanded.
Aiden frowned as he retold a story
that had shaped his life. “Twenty-four years ago in Chicago, there
was a serial bomber. He was, for all intents and purposes, not as
bad as he could have been, and the police department labeled him
more a nuisance than anything else.”
Sam scowled. “Why the hell would a
bomber be labeled as more of a nuisance than a wanted dangerous
criminal?”
“Because the department
was inept and led by a fucking douche,” Nick answered in a voice
tight with anger.
“I think it had more to do
with the fact that the guy seemed to just like the big bangs, but
had no real intention of hurting anyone,” Aiden said dryly. “You
see, Sam, he would put his little homemade bundles of joy into the
trash cans on train platforms, and it was the media that gave him
that catchy little nickname. The devices he used were connected to
a cell phone, and he would simply dial it and watch it explode. The
CCTV cameras would catch nothing more than a shadow in a hooded
jacket near the bin, and then as soon as the platform was clear, he
would set the damn thing off.”
Sam nodded slowly. “I think I remember
reading something about that. Didn’t he up the ante at some stage
and end up taking a couple of lives?”
Aiden’s heart clenched within his
chest. “Yeah, three actually. Although I am not sure at what stage
an unborn child would be considered a life to be lost in that
circumstance.”
“It was definitely three,
baby,” Nick said softly and held his hand out toward
him.
Aiden took a deep breath then moved
the table out of the way so he could sit down next to Nick, and
lean on the large man for strength. “The couple of lives he took
were those of my parents. Jayne and Howard George. The three of us
had been to a charity dinner my mother had organized, raising money
for a family that had lost everything in a fire.” He paused for a
moment as he thought of his mom. She was always looking for someone
to help. Whenever she saw someone who needed a helping hand, she
was the first to reach out to them. “We were one of the last to
leave, but it wasn’t too late because my mom was seven months
pregnant and I was only eight years old. My father wanted to make
sure we made the train back home, but we didn’t quite make the one
we’d hoped for, ending up standing on that platform in the cold,
waiting for the next one.” His mom had to use the bathroom, which
had made them miss the ten o’clock train.
“You don’t have to keep
going, Aiden,” Sam said gently as he walked to the other side of
Nick’s hospital bed and sat down facing them, his hand reaching
over Nick to gently cup Aiden’s face. “I can see that this is
hurting you. I don’t need to know the whole story.”
Aiden looked up Sam and smiled at the
concern he saw in his warm chocolate eyes as he reached up to take
Sam’s hand from his face and clasp it in his own. “No, you need to
hear this. If the MO of the prick who put our man in the hospital
is the same as Duncan, then you need to know the story, and you
need to be careful. He has taken three of the five people who mean
the most to me in this world from me, and the last two are in this
room with me now. I can’t lose either of you, not to him, not to
anything.”
Aiden felt Nick’s hand tighten around
his shoulders, but he kept his gaze steady on Sam, silently praying
that he would see how sincere Aiden was being. When he looked a
little shocked but nodded, Aiden thought perhaps Sam might just be
starting to get an idea of what he was coming to mean to him and
Nick.
“We had twenty minutes to
wait for the train,” Aiden continued, “and because it was cold, my
dad stood with his arms wrapped around my mother, and I stood
between them. They were laughing because I was wrapped in their
coats, and my mom was laughing about her two little peas being
wrapped up warm between her and my dad. Dad leaned over to kiss my
mom, and I turned my head because, well, I was eight and had no
desire to watch my parents make out.
“I saw this guy standing a
ways back from us, near the turnstiles to the platform. The light
from the watch he was looking at lit his face from beneath this
large hooded poncho type jacket he wore. He looked up at me and
seemed shocked when he saw that I was looking back at him. He
glanced down at the watch, shrugged, then looked back at me. There
was no horror or urgency in his expression. It was more a look of
curiosity, I guess. Like he was anxious to see what happened next.
Then he mouthed the word ‘boom’. What seemed like a few seconds
later, I was coming around in a hospital room, and my Aunt Delia
and my grandmother were standing over my bed crying.” Aiden
swallowed hard at the memory. “They told me that I would be going
to live with them now and that my parents had been killed by an
explosion. Ironically, it was the way we were standing, with me
between them, that saved my life. Thankfully, I remember nothing of
that.”
Aiden would be thankful for the rest
of his life that much of that moment and that night remained a
blank for him.
Sam squeezed his hand. “Please tell me
he was identified and arrested.”
Aiden sighed. “Yeah, he was. It was
the testimony of an eight-year-old boy determined to see that man
who had taken his parents from him go to jail.”
“The fucker was released
about a month ago,” Nick growled, and Aiden absently leaned in a
little closer, and the tension that had built in Nick’s shoulders
relaxed a little. “As soon as I was able, I called his parole
officer back in California. He hasn’t missed a fucking check in,
and he’s been to his day job every damn morning. The package itself
was couriered from an address in Rapid City. I can’t see how he
could make it all the way to South Dakota to get that package sent
here to Redwood Falls then make it back to LA for work. It’s just
not possible.”
“So he had to have help,”
Sam said.
Aiden thought about that for a moment.
“But who? The guy has been incarcerated in a maximum security
psychiatric facility in Southern California for almost a quarter of
a century. It’s not like he’s been out and about making friends and
building connections.”
Nick shrugged. “Who knows, maybe the
fucker’s joined a Facebook group? Either way, he’s a person of
interest, and the Feds will be keeping a very close eye on him.
They’re even looking into any and all unsolved bombings since then
to see if there is any connection. At this stage, they are saying
that it is simply a case of uncanny coincidence.”
Aiden didn’t believe that. Not for one
minute. There was a reason he was one of the best in the country at
what he did. He had this sixth sense when something was not as it
seemed, or there was more to what lay before him than met the eye.
In this instance, every instinct he had told him that there was
more than coincidence that connected the Platform Bomber, his past,
and the reason Nick was in this hospital. He would work it out
eventually. He always did. And this time the stakes were higher
than ever. The two men he loved were standing right in the middle
of the blast zone.
****
Sam felt like there was a current
running through his body. He was driving his truck back to the CFT
after leaving Nick in the hospital for the last night, and his eyes
keep looking into the rearview mirror, ensuring the lights of
Aiden’s truck were still there. Ever since he had told Sam about
the Platform Bomber, he had been plagued with a feeling that the
sands in the hourglass were beginning to move faster, and if Sam
looked hard at how much sand was left in the damn thing he didn’t
think there would be much.
He turned into the farm, and pulled
over by the security pad beside the drive, reaching out to press
his thumb to the glass pad to activate the gate. Sam waited the
required time for the gates to open, then drove through quickly,
slowing down as Aiden drove through behind him. Sam’s eyes remained
on the open gate until the gate was completely closed. He took a
deep breath as he filled with relief and continued up the drive
toward the main house.
CTF was home to Bravo team, and as far
as Sam was concerned, was one of the safest places on earth. There
were enough security measures on the grounds to ensure anyone would
think twice about stepping foot on the grounds with ill intent, not
to mention enough firepower locked up within bunkers and armories
throughout the facility to start their own world war. That wasn’t
to say that the facility was impervious to attack. Hell, Sam had
nearly been blown to hell by an RPG during the first months of
moving here. Then there was the whole Riley being kidnapped by his
half-brother who had hidden commercial grade explosive devices all
over the grounds, but that was another story. One that saw Aiden
and his dog Deefer saving the day, again.
Pulling up into the extended carport
beside the house, Sam stepped out of his truck and strode towards
Aiden’s pickup. He grinned at the happy look on Deefer’s doggy
face, tongue hanging out, and eyes shining with joy at the night
ride he had obviously enjoyed the hell out of.
He reached out and rubbed his hand on
the dog’s head. “Come on, boy. Jump down and go do your thing.”
When Deefer simply sat there looking up at him with a goofy doggy
smile, Sam shook his head. “You are such an under the thumb dog,
aren’t you?”
“If by that,” Aiden said
as he walked around the front of the truck, his overnight bag in
his hand, “you mean an extremely well-behaved dog with a level of
training beyond the likes of anything you might have ever seen in
any other living dog, then yes. He is.”
Sam grinned as he reached out and took
Aiden’s hand, and the two of them walked toward the house. Aiden
let out a short whistle and Deefer leaped down from the truck and
took off around the front yard, tail wagging so vigorously it was a
blur.