Vengeance

67 WOODMORE, MARYLAND

Standing beside Khalila on the gravel driveway beside the farmhouse, Harrison sifted through the limited clues, attempting to determine what Mixell was planning. Local law enforcement and FBI agents had swarmed the property after Khalila had called the NCTC, and the initial search of the house had revealed nothing noteworthy. After assessing what little they knew, Harrison decided to focus on the C-4.

“Let’s take a closer look at the barn.”

Harrison and Khalila entered the barn, joining a team of four FBI agents scouring the area. Someone had found the light switch and the barn was now well illuminated. Harrison first inspected the three empty crates. As suspected, the markings on the third crate indicated that its contents were the wireless detonators that would be inserted into the C-4.

The table nearby contained an odd assortment of items. One side of the work area contained white C-4 shavings that had been swept into a small pile next to a carving knife, and on the other side of the table were several cans of spray paint: red, green, yellow, blue, pink, purple, and orange — a rainbow of colors. At the back of the table were several colored patches indicating that objects had indeed been spray painted. A small trash can beside the table was filled with the empty C-4 packages.

Harrison quickly surmised what Mixell had done, sharing his assessment with Khalila. “It looks like Mixell carved the C-4 into specific shapes, then painted them to blend into wherever the explosive was placed.”

“It seems that way,” Khalila agreed. “But why the different colors? Mixell placed the C-4 into different objects?”

Harrison folded his arms across his chest. Despite the clues they had gathered, they were no closer to determining the plot Mixell was about to hatch. He turned to the lead FBI agent, Ken Singleton.

“Have you found any additional evidence?”

“Nothing related to the explosives or that indicates the potential target — just the usual assortment of farm tools and equipment. But there is one rather unusual item.”

He led Harrison and Khalila to a large trash can with a lid. With a gloved hand, he lifted the lid, revealing a trash can half-filled with eggs, some whole and others broken. “Any idea why Mixell would buy and then discard enough eggs to feed a small army?”

No answer came to Harrison, but Khalila had a question. “Where are the egg cartons?”

Singleton scratched his head. “Good question. Not in this barn.”

Harrison examined the work table again, his eyes settling on the pile of C-4 shavings. Mixell had been shaping the C-4 into something.

“Eggs,” he said. “Mixell carved the C-4 into eggs and placed them in the egg cartons.”

“What would Mixell do with cartons of C-4 eggs?” Singleton asked.

“Return them to the stores,” Khalila postulated. “Walk into a store with an egg carton hidden in a reusable shopping bag, put the eggs back on the shelf when no one is watching, then leave. With wireless detonators, Mixell could simultaneously detonate the C-4 in several dozen stores. Or he could detonate them in sequence over a longer period of time, sowing mayhem and panic across the region.”

“It’s plausible,” Harrison replied, “but that’s not Mixell’s MO. What would he achieve by blowing up grocery stores?”

“Alright,” Khalila replied, “let’s set that theory aside for the moment. What else could he do?”

Harrison’s gaze returned to the work table, this time focusing on the cans of spray paint. “What horrific thing could Mixell do with several dozen brightly colored C-4 eggs?” He asked the question more to himself than to Khalila and Singleton.

As he stared at the brightly colored splotches where the eggs had been painted, things started falling into place.

“Mixell didn’t carve the C-4 into ordinary eggs. He painted them too. He made Easter eggs.”

After assessing Harrison’s claim, Khalila replied, “Assuming you’re correct, I’m not sure how that helps us. Instead of just grocery stores, Mixell could have placed them wherever there’s an Easter bunny or candy display.”

“I know,” Harrison replied, aggravated that his revelation had made tracking down the C-4 eggs even harder.

Singleton mumbled, “Talk about a veritable Easter egg hunt…”

“That’s it!” Harrison said.

“What is?” Singleton asked.

“What day is today?”

“Sunday.”

“I mean, what holiday is today?”

“Easter.”

“And what happens every Easter Monday at the White House?”

Singleton’s and Khalila’s eyes widened in understanding. “The annual Easter Egg festivities,” Khalila answered. “Each year, they ship thousands of dyed eggs to the White House for the games.”

“That’s where the C-4 eggs are headed,” Harrison said, “if they’re not already there.”

Singleton pulled out his phone and called the information in while Khalila contacted the NCTC. Harrison also made a call, his pulse racing as he dialed.

Maddy was at the White House today for the tour with Christine.