Page 71 of Cyn
“I’m going to grab a little extra something from my car,” Six said before slipping around the group and out the door.
“Anyone want to take bets on what the little extra something is that Six is obtaining from her car?” Devil asked, smiling as they piled out of the mudroom and into the garage. Cyn hit the switch to raise the door, and her friends’ cars came into view. From where they stood, they could see Six’s ass sticking up as she dug through her trunk.
“Does she ever clean her car?” Nora asked. It was a rhetorical question because they all knew—except for Joe—that no, in fact, Six never did clean her car. Or, more precisely, her idea of cleaning her car was to throw everything in the trunk, and then, about once a month, her house cleaner, Javier, would clean it out.
“It’s the middle of the month,” Cyn said. “Javier won’t clean it for another week, so no, I’m not going to place any bets because god knows what she’s got back there by now.”
“Ha, I got it!” Six exclaimed, turning to them and triumphantly holding something up and flicking her wrist in a weird back-and-forth motion.
“Oh my god, what the hell is she planning to do with a switchblade?” Nora muttered.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Joe satbehind the wheel of Cyn’s Range Rover, navigating it south toward Boston while Cyn sat beside him, dividing her attention between her computer, a phone call with Beni, and a conversation with Six, who sat in the back seat.
“We’ve got eight locations we’re looking at,” Cyn said to Beni, their conversation playing through Bluetooth.
“I don’t suppose I can convince you to leave it to us? No, I didn’t think so,” Beni asked and answered, and Joe was sure the question was a perfunctory one. “Talk me through them.”
Cyn spent the next twenty minutes filling Beni in with Six interjecting a comment every now and then. He was coming up on the interchange between I-95 and Highway 1 when a text from Nora came in telling them about an accident on I-95 that was still blocking southbound traffic and directing them to take Highway 1. Cyn nodded her assent, and he exited onto the highway, catching a glimpse of Devil’s Porsche Cayenne ahead of them.
At close to seven in the morning, it was still dark, but thanks to the clear skies, he could see some light on the eastern horizon. Hopefully, by the time they made it to the city, it would be daylight. There was something to be said about working at night—it was much easier to sneak around or sneak up on people—but when trying to find three college kids and a bunch of bombs, the light would come in handy. Besides, he didn’t think thatsneakywould be their modus operandi today.
“I’ll send someone to meet with each of your teams,” Beni said. “One more person shouldn’t interfere with whatever plans you have with Nora and Devil, and it will ensure that if something goes down, at least one federal agency is present.”
“Why not more?” Joe asked. In fact, it seemed that they could use the entire fucking Boston FBI office. And the police. And the bomb squad.
“Because we finally picked up some chatter this morning that supports what you’ve known for a few days, that there’s going to be an attack today. But the intel we have indicated it would be in an outdoor space, like a park or the Commons,” Beni answered. “I know you found the schematic of a room, but we can’t ignore this intel. Tunnels run all through the city, and the devices your explosives expert thinks are intended to bring a building down could easily collapse a tunnel as well.”
She had a point. Causing that kind of damage wouldn’t only put lives at risk but it would also cripple the public transportation system in the city. Still, his gut told him that Cyn and her team were right—abuildingsomewhere in Boston was the target. Hopefully, it was one of the ones they had on their list.
“I’d send you someone with explosives expertise, but we have to keep that team on stand-by in case we find something,” Beni added, her voice conveying her frustration. Lack of resources—the right resources—was always a source of frustration in law enforcement. “Have you talked to Lucy this morning?”
“Not yet. After we narrowed the list, I wanted to give her a few hours to sleep,” Cyn said.
Beni let out a wry laugh. “You know she’s not sleeping, right? If this thing goes down today, it’s her people who will have to clean the mess up since she’s related to half the law enforcement and firefighters in town. I’m guessing she and Brian are probably still awake doing some tech stuff that neither you nor I would understand in an effort to stop it.”
Cyn shot Joe a look. Joe didn’t know where Beni was going with this either. “And?” Cyn prompted.
“I know that at least two of Brian’s cousins are on the bomb squad and a couple are SWAT. I’d call her.”
Cyn cast him another look, clearly weighing the advantages and disadvantages. Lucy had offered earlier, but the more people who were involved, the more it would take to coordinate, and they might lose some of their agility. In the end, though, having Fawkes, or someone like him, with them, sounded like a pretty good idea. Ultimately, Cyn would decide, but Joe gave her what he hoped was an encouraging nod.
“I’ll send her a text right now and see if she’s awake,” Cyn answered.
“Keep me posted?” Beni more than suggested.
“Of course, and you do the same.” With that, the two women hung up.
“We’re headed to that church in South Boston first, right?” Six asked from the back seat.
“Yes,” Joe answered as Cyn typed into her phone. “It’s the site that’s farthest away, so we thought we’d start there and make our way back to the main part of the city. Why?”
“Their service starts in an hour and a half. It may be the farthest away, but it’s also the one with the earliest event,” Six answered.
Joe eyed the traffic on Highway 1. He hadn’t been in the area long, but even he knew their route was a crapshoot. If they hit all the lights and there weren’t any accidents, they’d make it in time to search the building before the service, but only barely. If even one thing didn’t go their way, they might not make it at all.
He depressed the accelerator and changed lanes to pass a slow-going truck.
