Chapter 7
This was a tricky situation. It always is, but when there is a new, unknown design, it makes it all the more complicated.
Every bomb designer has a unique signature—their special way of doing things. It holds clues to where they learned the craft, but this was so far out there, there was nothing to compare it to.
BOB positioned a makeshift Faraday cage over the tabletop to help reduce RF signals. It was a special woven fabric with conductive fibers. It wasn't foolproof, but it would go a long way toward keeping out cell signals.
BOB scanned the device with infrared and X-rays to get a look at the inner mechanics.
"What do you make of that?" the sheriff asked as we all huddled around the mirrored display on his phone.
I pointed at the screen. "That looks like the centralized core. Those are probably power supplies. A primary and a backup.” My face twisted with confusion.
"I don't see a primary det charge. This isn’t a typical layout, and that's what scares me.
It's got anti-tamper devices here and here," I said, pointing.
“It looks like it detonates by initiating some kind of state change in the core.”
Daniels gave me a look that was a blend of annoyance and concern. "You keep saying the word core. That bothers me. Would you stop saying that?”
I gave him a look.
“We’re not talking nuclear, are we?"
I shook my head. "Too small. But I'm no expert.”
"You got me,” Sergeant Hartman said. "I've never seen anything like this before."
"I think if we cut that lead right there, it should render the device safe,” I said.
"You think, or you know?" Daniels said.
I shrugged. "It's just a guess.”
He looked at his watch. "Well, we’ve got a little less than 23 hours to guess right.”
"That's if the perp isn’t lying,” I said. “It could go off at any time.”
The sheriff didn't like the sound of that. "You mentioned anti-tamper.”
"If you pull the thing apart, there's a good chance it's going to go boom.”
"What if you move it?”
"Those look like mercury switches. But to be honest, that could be any combination of mercury and possibly thallium, which could reduce the temperature needed for a state change.”
"State change?"
"Freeze it, then it won't explode when you tilt it.” I added, "Of course, there could be thermal sensors. If you're going to cool it, I would suggest doing so slowly. You’re not going to be able to move the device otherwise. Too risky. We have to render it safe on site.”
“Hartman?” the sheriff asked.
He shrugged. “I tend to agree with Wild.”
The sheriff grimaced. “This is really starting to piss me off.”
After much debate, we decided to proceed with cooling the device. Right or wrong, we’d know pretty quickly.
Deputies pushed the crowd back even farther.
We huddled for cover behind the bomb disposal unit’s van and kept our fingers crossed.
Sergeant Hartman sent BOB to do the dirty business. But there was one slight problem. The robot’s optics glitched as it approached the device.
Hartman grumbled a few obscenities.
“Why has the feed gone down?” the sheriff asked, trying to manage his annoyance.
“I wish I had an answer for that,” Hartman said.
“Can you get that thing back online?”
“I’m working on it.”
Hartman tried doing a forced reboot by remote, but BOB became non-responsive.
He sent a couple of the BDU guys dressed in protective gear in to retrieve the robot. They carried BOB out of the restaurant and brought him back to the sidewalk, where we all huddled behind the van.
BOB was a new acquisition and still a little buggy. Nobody was particularly savvy about the technical workings of the robot.
I called Dr. Alexis Sinclair at A.R.I.S. She was the interim CEO and an integral part of the design team responsible for the Maximus line. After some brief chit-chat, I said, “We have a slight situation. BOB is bricked.”
She groaned. “Have you tried a system reboot?”
“Yes.”
“Disconnect his battery, wait a minute, then try again.”
“Did that. Nothing.”
She sighed. “Bring him in next week, and I’ll take a look.”
“The bomb will have exploded by next week.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Exactly.”
“Okay, let me make some calls and see if I can get a tech out to you. I’d come myself, but I’m out of the country.”
I thanked her, ended the call, then updated the team.
Every second that ticked by felt like borrowed time.
Alexis called me back a few minutes later and said a guy was en route. He showed up 20 minutes later and pushed through the crowd. He had a hard time getting past the deputies at first. They didn't want to let anyone near the area.
Alexis had given me a description of Jared, and I spotted him as he tried to push past the barricade. I jogged down the sidewalk and waved him through.
Jared was a tubby guy with curly brown hair and thick black glasses. A few days of stubble lined his jaw and double chin. We greeted each other with a handshake, and I said, "Thanks for coming."
He looked a little tentative about the whole situation. "Is the bomb live?”
"Yes.”
A hint of fear rounded his eyes. "When is it supposed to go off?”
"Hopefully never, if we do our job right.”
That wasn't too reassuring for him.
"Relax. We’ve got a little over 22 hours, in theory.”
I escorted him to the robot and introduced him to the team.
Jared took a look at BOB and ran through the standard protocols. He disconnected the battery and tried to reboot the robot.
It didn't work.
He tried a few more things with the same result.
After another 20 minutes of fiddling with it, he gave up. "I don't know what's wrong. I'm gonna have to take him back to the lab and pull him apart.”
We all grimaced. That wasn't what we wanted to hear.
"Is it possible he could have been hacked?” I asked.
Jared shrugged. "Anything is possible. But we put a crazy amount of security into these things now.”
"Nothing is foolproof.”
"What do you want me to do? Leave the robot with you, or take him in now?”
"I want my IT guys to look at him," the sheriff said, “Just in case there was a hack.”
"Sure thing. Whatever you say." Jared's nervous eyes glanced around. "If you don't need me anymore, I'd like to get the hell out of here.”
We cut him loose, and Jared hustled away, disappearing into the crowd.
“How do you want to proceed?” I asked the sheriff.
“Manually.” He looked at Hartman. “You feel comfortable with that process?”
“Not really.” Hartman paused. “Wild seems to have a better understanding of the device than anyone else.”
I gave him the side eye.
“I’m just saying…”
After an exhale, I said, “I’ll do it.”
"You sure about that?" the sheriff asked.
I smiled and said in a sardonic voice, "What's the worst thing that could happen?”