Hardbingers

8

Jack wished he could have found more satisfaction in standing over Miller's fresh corpse. But he felt nothing—too dead inside to feel anything but grief and loss and rage.

Straightened and looked around. Time to get out of Dodge.

He did a sweep, removing the three undetonated bombs, then the newspaper-stuffed backpack and the battery-operated timer from the locker. He'd had Russ reset it to flash a countdown from ten to zero in a continuous loop so that whoever saw it would think they had only seconds before an explosion. The bombs and timer went into the backpack, as did his laptop. He stepped outside and looked around. All quiet.