Chapter Two #3
She shook her head. “No.” She let out a huff of a laugh. “Feels like a gaming console,” she said with a wry smile. “Do you think I ripped poor Darien off?”
He met her attempt at levity with a somber stare. “No. But I’m going to let Max give you a sniff. Okay?”
She nodded and he snapped his fingers. The large dog bounded up beside her on the bench as if he thought they’d never ask.
Cassidy tried not to flinch as his cool nose brushed the side of her neck.
He whined and growled softly, the sound practically vibrating inside her.
She winced and shied away when the dog gave three sharp barks in quick succession then dropped onto the bench.
“He’s trained in explosives, huh?” She grimaced at the sad attempt at small talk but was unable to come up with anything better under the circumstances.
He gave two quick snaps of his fingers, and Max hopped down, resuming his position at Jake’s feet. She watched as he gave the dog a head scratch, murmured a word of praise and pulled a small treat out of his pocket.
“He’s done a bit of search and rescue when needed but specializes in detection. Explosives and narcotics.”
“And?” she prompted, hating the quaver in her voice.
“It’s explosives. Likely an IED,” he confirmed.
She shot Max a nervous glance. “How do you know it’s not weed or something?”
Jake gave the dog another pat. “He gives different signals to let me know what’s detected. That way, I know how to approach.”
“Right. Makes sense.” She nodded like a bobblehead, anxious to make it clear she wasn’t entirely without expertise in this area.
“I think I should hold on to this,” he said, holding her phone up. “You know cell signals can interfere with whatever kind of transmitter they’re using.”
“Right.”
“You have a radio?”
She nodded and moved to unclip it from her waistband, but he stopped her. “Keep it. They work on a different kind of bandwidth, low frequency.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Got any extras around?”
She raised the radio. “Thompson?”
A second later, a gruff voice came across. “Copy, Chief.”
“Would you grab one of the extra radios for Trooper Donovan to use?”
Bud’s response was a curt, “Will do.”
Her phone buzzed in his hand, and they both looked down. Another text.
Jake opened a new message from yet another unknown number.
Give her the phone back.
“I told you they can see us,” she said, snatching the device from his hand. She and Jake both craned their necks, scoping the entire area for anyone close enough to see them sitting knee to knee.
“Must be a camera around,” he concluded.
“Probably more than one. Security has cameras and the company who manages the rides and attractions have some of their own, but these rides are dismantled and rebuilt a lot. Not sure how many there are or what condition they might be in.”
Jake hazarded a guess. “They could be hacking into them.”
“Or whoever it is planted a few more. No one would have noticed,” she said, glaring down at her phone. She tapped on the reply box and began typing.
“What are you doing?”
“We need to know what these people want.” Biting her lip, she tapped out a message.
What do you want? How do we stop this?
She showed the display to Jake, then shifted on the bench, trying to get comfortable without leaning back against the weighty pack.
Gnawing her bottom lip, she gripped the phone tighter, willing the person on the other end to answer.
Long minutes passed before Jake rose. When the message came through, it made her blood run cold.
I have a dozen reasons. Cooperate.
“Jake,” she said, her voice a little shakier than she’d like.
But he was already moving to leave. “I’m sending someone down to stay nearby while I talk to Aronson and find out what the plan—”
Whatever he was going to say next was lost in the void following a shattering explosion. Jake dropped to one knee in front of her, but Max stood his ground. Cassidy twisted on the bench, hindered by the bulk of the backpack as she cast about, trying to ascertain the location of the explosion.
Booted feet pounded the pavement. She caught sight of a group of firefighters beating a path toward the north gate. Her radio crackled to life. Bud Thompson’s voice came across, brusque and breathless. “North ticket booth blown to smithereens.”
She grabbed at her handset, nearly ripping the belt loop from her pants in her haste. “Is the area secured? Casualties?”
“Negative,” came the gruff, disembodied voice. “On our way.”
“Stay put,” Jake commanded, snapping her attention to him.
She glared at him. “I’m getting tired of people telling me to stay on this stupid ride.”
“Do it anyway,” he ordered. “We don’t know what this person’s plan or goal is. All we can do at this point is follow their orders as best we can.”
“But we can’t just let them—”
“We don’t know who ‘they’ are, or what ‘they’ want, Cass,” he cut in.
“The safest thing you can do for any of us is to stay put, because right now, we only know exactly where one of these bombs is, and your number one priority should be to avoid getting blown sky high. Now, stay put.” He sucked in a breath, then let it go with a huffy, “Please.”