The Gatekeeper

Thirty-Nine

“Did it blow?” Rodriguez asked.

“The flash didn’t look that big,” George commented.

Jake didn’t say anything. He was no expert, but George was right; the blast they’d witnessed was nothing compared to the Phoenix footage captured by a police chopper. That shock wave had knocked the helicopter out of the sky.

George got on the radio. “This is Agent Fong. What happened?”

They waited tensely for a response. A minute later someone said, “All good here. We’ve got two bad guys, bringing them outside the perimeter in case this thing is on a timer. Bomb squad is going to fly in some suppressant and dump it over the truck. But so far so good.”

“What exploded?” Jake asked.

“Flash bangs after we blew the tires. These boys are practically bleeding out their ears.” The agent on the radio chuckled. “We had them on the ground and hog-tied in under a minute.”

“Nice work,” George said. “Keep us posted.”

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Rodriguez sighed. “Looks like they didn’t need us after all.”

“You kidding? I was not liking the possibility of being anywhere near a dirty bomb,” George said. “Those things mess with your DNA. And I plan on sending little Fongs out into the world someday.”

“God help us all,” Jake said.

They all laughed harder than the joke deserved. Since arriving in California six days ago, Jake had existed in a tight knot of adrenaline and nerves. It was a relief to feel some of that release.

“One more down, anyway,” Rodriguez said. “Wonder how they’re doing in San Diego.”

As if on cue, George’s phone rang. “Fong here,” he answered.

His face grew still as he listened. Jake and Rodriguez waited impatiently for him to finish. After a minute he said, “Right, I understand. Thanks for calling.”

“Well?” Rodriguez asked.

George examined the dashboard. “They stopped the bomb in San Diego. Leonard had high-tech jammers block detonation.”

“So what’s with the face?” Rodriguez asked. “This is good news, right?”

George met Jake’s eyes for a second before shifting back to the dash. A chill crept around Jake’s heart.

“What is it,” he asked, fighting to keep his voice level.

“Dante had a grenade, they think it was his backup plan to ignite the C4. It didn’t work, but a bunch of agents were moving in to arrest him. Leonard and two others were a few feet away when it blew. They didn’t make it. Another nine are injured, some critically. And Agent Jones…”

“She’s dead?” Rodriguez asked.

“No, she’s in a medically induced coma. Jake, they said it doesn’t look good.”

Jake’s jaw set in a hard line. He whipped the car around and floored the accelerator.

“Maybe I should drive,” George said.

“Jake, we haven’t actually gotten permission to leave-” Rodriguez protested.

“Fuck permission,” Jake snarled. “I’m getting on the next plane. Find out what hospital she’s in.”