Page 63 of Burning Truth

“Gabbie, are you still there?” he said as he ran down the stairs, too impatient to wait for the elevator he’d come up on.

“Yeah, boss.” Her voice was strong in the earpiece.

“In amongst everything else you’re doing, maybe you can keep a bit of an eye on Addie.”

“Will do, boss.”

Severn jogged to his truck and pulled into traffic, heading to the address Gabbie had found them.

Russell really was delusional, but he was also sane enough to be dangerous. It was hard to tell where he’d gained the training to build the explosive devices he’d been using. Could have been anywhere. It was a little scary what you could find on Youtube and other platforms.

When he arrived at the brightly colored ‘Secure Rental Center’, it was easy enough to find the bomb squad. Their big black trucks were lined down one aisle, and there was yellow emergency tape surrounding a distant row of buildings. There was also a row of police cars and even a forensic van. A young cop waved at him.

“Are you Mr. Moran? They’re waiting for you.”

Severn jogged down the aisle, stopping at the back of the first truck. Lieutenant George was there, a grizzled veteran of the PD that Severn had known for a couple of years. George was sitting in the swivel chair in the back of the van, operating a remote control device, and he and his three men were watching a small screen on the wall of the truck. The robot the device controlled was rolling into the storage room.

“Moran. Just in time. We just opened the overhead door.”

Severn stepped up onto the step, and watched. Inside the storage space, there were boxes crowded along one wall. Along the second wall there looked to be a worktable with a stool in front of it. And along the back wall, there was a map.

“Surely he didn’t map out all his IEDs and fires,” Severn laughed incredulously. “Did he seriously make it that easy?”

The robot pivoted and George zoomed in. “No, doesn’t look like all of them. There are a few we weren’t aware of, though.”

The robot continued to pivot, and they saw a table with four cell-phones on the surface. They were all plugged into a power strip.

“He’s very adamant that he get his cell phone within the next hour,” Severn said thoughtfully.

“That’s a very bad idea,” Lieutenant George growled, stepping down out of the truck. He handed the remote to one of his guys. “Of course he wants the phone, so he can trigger these.”

“I need to go in and look at them closer,” Severn said.

George nodded. “Yeah, we’re all going in. Sergeant, get him the spare suit.”

Severn recognized the sergeant from the van IED yesterday. He handed Severn an insulated, bomb proof suit. It wasn’t actually bomb proof, but bomb resistant. It was better than nothing. Severn pulled the heavy suit on and fastened the velcro straps, feeling like he was back in the Navy.

By the time the group arrived, the robot had placed two small boxes of explosive material into the containment vessel, a big, round, metal ball with 12 inch walls that would contain the explosion if something happened.

“More C4,” Severn asked, and George nodded.

They entered the space carefully. Theoretically, the robot should have triggered any booby-traps or other defenses, if there were any. Severn expected some kind of defense, but there was nothing. Severn walked to the map, looking at all the red-head pins stuck into the paper. Removing his gloves, he snapped a picture for Gabbie, then stored his phone.

“He’s been doing this a while.”

Severn looked at the phones next. They were all the same make and model of cell phone, not new, but a tried brand. He tapped the screen on one phone with one finger. A timer popped up at the bottom of the screen.

An hour and ten minutes, counting down. Severn looked at Lieutenant George. “I think he needs his cell phone to reset the timers. If he doesn’t, the signal triggers the IED, wherever it is.”

He tapped the screens on all four phones. They all had a different amount of time left on the timer. One phone only had forty-five minutes on it. Very carefully, Severn picked the phoneup. On the back was a set of initials written with black marker on white masking tape. PA. Police Academy? The second phone had 19 on it, the third said CDS, and the fourth read Finale.

“CDS is probably the Charles D. Shipley building, where he works,” Lieutenant George said.

“Agreed,” Severn murmured, his mind racing.

He’d seen and dealt with many IEDs remotely triggered by cell phones. He’d never encountered a situation where those phones were on a timer.

“Gabbie, have you been following?”

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