Six Seconds

82

Cold Butte, Montana

As the choir prepared, bits of information buzzed in the back of Walker’s mind.

Yesterday’s false alarms, the unconfirmed intel from Issa about a planned attack, the explosion at Malm strom.

Did the pieces go together?

The traffic deaths, the call from Graham, the Mountie, still pursuing Tarver- why call now? — the security breach by the distraught woman. Something familiar.

From Blue Rose Creek, California.

She knew Walker’s name. How could that be?

Walker began making a mental link. Didn’t the Mountie go to California? Blue Rose Creek, California? Didn’t Tarver’s final wild theory concern a planned attack?

Walker’s earpiece crackled.

“Agent Walker, this is Baker in command. Sir, please go to your cell phone now for a call patch from Lone Tree emergency dispatch.”

“What? No, I can’t take one now, pass it to-”

His response was ignored, his phone vibrated. He cursed then answered.

“Agent Walker, this is Corporal Graham of the RCMP.”

Gripping her digital camera, Samara sat in the front row of the gym in her new suit.

Her fingers caressed the camera’s buttons as she tried to bring her pulse rate to normal. Any anxiety she betrayed fit with the event.

Her heart was still racing from her encounter with Logan’s mother. It was fortunate Samara had recog nized her from Jake’s photos.

How did she track them down to Cold Butte? It meant she knew something.

Samara looked around.

Did others know?

Thank heaven she was able to turn Logan away before he recognized her. It confirmed that her mission was destined because she was protected.

Soon. Very soon.

Three songs and six seconds. One minute to activate, then she could detonate. She brushed the button and welcomed a kaleidoscope of memories, giving her the sensation that she was floating.

She was a few feet from the pope.

Before anyone could stop her, it would be done.

Once the applause faded, Sobil Mounce-Bazley, the choir director, tapped her baton on her podium.

The shuffle of programs and throat-clearing under

Six Seconds 453 scored the nervous tension as the magnitude of the event registered with the children.

The helicopters, the police, TV news lights, camera flashes and all these people.

This was such a huge deal.

The man sitting over there was the pope.

This was a once-in-a-lifetime moment.

Sobil commanded the full attention of her singers but Logan couldn’t stop thinking about his mother.

He had to find a way to call her again. And that incident with the crazy lady a few minutes ago was freaking him out. She’d sounded a bit like his mom.

And where was his dad?

Logan searched the audience for his father, even his mother, when Sobil tapped the baton and shot him a look.

Time to begin.

Phone tight to his ear, Walker had stepped aside to take Graham’s urgent call.

The children’s voices filled the gym with the first song as Graham quickly explained the links: Jake Conlin’s homicide; Samara’s martyr video; the Tarver murders; the traffic deaths; Maggie.

Everything.

The pieces fit.

“You’ve got to do something, Walker!”

“Give me her name again! She could be listed.”

“Samara. Last name could be Russell or Ingram. I’m watching this thing play on her computer at the house.” Graham had rifled through files and bills in the house. He detailed Samara’s description as the live network coverage cut from the pope, to the choir, to audience reaction and back to the pope. “Walker, she’s got to be there. I’m watching it live-there! That’s her! There she is! That’s her!”

“Where?”

“Grab her!”

“Where!”

“Front row. Taupe suit, dark hair, getting ready to take a picture.”

As Walker responded, a few feet from him his boss, Hank Colby, agent in charge of security, got a call from Tony Takayasu in Indian Head, Maryland.

Other officials, including Colby’s supervisor, were patched in to the call.

“Agent Colby, this is an urgent update to the sub stances found at Malmstrom and Washington State,” Takayasu said. “We’ve identified a potential threat. The substances are components of a complex radio explo sive.”

“Have you confirmed it here? We’ve swept and scanned everything.”

“No. It’s a newly engineered fabric. Undetectable. We can’t take risks.”

“Fabric?” Fabric was everywhere-curtains, flags, school banners. Clothing, upholstery. “Give us details.”

“We’ve got nothing yet,” an NSA official explained, “but we’ve locked on the item’s frequency range. Our satellites will alert us to any radio activity.”

“Won’t it be too late by then?” Colby’s boss said.

“Should we detect a signal, you’ll have time to respond,” the NSA official said. “And, as a counter measure we’ll use the satellites to release a radio pulse to thwart any trigger signal. But the pulse is a last resort because of the downside.”

“The downside?”

“It’ll knock out all power and wireless transmission for a minute, or two,” the NSA official said. “Meantime, sir, your team should work on removing your protectee as soon as possible.”

“Will the Vatican pull the pope out?” Colby’s boss asked.

“Not without confirmation,” Colby said.

“You have my authority to physically remove the pope at your discretion, Hank,” Colby’s boss said.

Colby’s ulcer burned.

He looked for Walker and found him behind a curtain consulting a floor plan, talking on his radio to agents.