The Carolina Street Bomber
Summary: When LA is shaken by a series of bombings, Mark needs to clear his head before he can find out who is behind it.
Disclaimer: The characters Mark Sloan, Steve Sloan, Jesse Travis, Amanda Bentley and her sons CJ and Dion do not belong to me, but belong to CBS and Viacom. I am not making a profit from this story it is purely for entertainment.
All other characters belong to me.
I also made up the names of the streets and the insurance companies. If they actually exist, then they do not belong to me, I am not making a profit etc.
Making the Mark
Doctor Mark Sloan ambled sleepily into the Doctors Lounge and made a beeline for the coffee pot. As he was pouring the brew into the cup, he heard a snort from behind him.
He turned around, and smiled at the sight that met him. Doctor Jesse Travis was asleep on one of the couches over the other side of the room. He was facing the ceiling, his tousled hair more ruffled than usual. His right arm was hanging over the side of the couch, and the tips of the fingers just touched the floor. His left arm was against the back of the couch, sticking up almost vertically in the air.
Mark sighed. He was not surprised that Jesse was asleep. Mark was pretty close to the land of slumber, too. It had been another stressful night at Community General Hospital. Mark had a rough idea that Jesse had done an extra four hours on top of his twelve-hour shift. "Come to think of it," Mark muttered to himself, "I've done at least two hours overtime."
That night had been a flood of patients being rolled in at a constant pace. A third in a series of bombings had taken place that evening, and several people were injured. There had been three DOA that had been taken to Amanda Bentley's pathology lab. A couple of patients were critical, but mainly there were patients with minor injuries that could be easily dealt with.
This case had Mark, and the rest of the LAPD, totally stumped. There had been three bombings so far. The first was on April 16th, the next on April 22nd and the third had been three days later, April 25th. All three bombings had taken place in insurance buildings and the bomber had used the same device each time. The only other piece of information that may have been helpful for the police was that on the wall outside each bombing, there had been written three different things. The first said, "For Tim," the second said, "For Lucy," and the third said, "For Joshua." Apart from that, the police had nothing.
Amanda Bentley walked into the Doctors Lounge midway through Mark's chain of thought, and was about to say something when she saw Mark put his finger to his lips and pointed to the sleeping Jesse. Amanda smiled and nodded, and quietly poured herself a cup of coffee.
She sat down at the table with Mark, and they began a conversation in whisper.
"How are you holding up?" Mark asked as she took a sip of her coffee.
"Better than him," Amanda replied, nodding to the sleeping figure not far away. "How about you?"
"Not bad. A bit tired, maybe. But this case has me on edge right now."
"I know what you mean. Have the police got any leads on this guy?" Amanda asked in a low voice.
"No," Mark replied in an equally low voice. "The three insurance buildings aren't linked, apart from selling insurance, of course. The police are trying to look for someone with connections with anyone called Tim, Lucy or Joshua, but it isn't easy, as they could anyone living anywhere."
"Who says they have to be living?" Lieutenant Steve Sloan walked in at that moment. Amanda and Mark both hissed, "Shhh!" Jesse stirred slightly, but his eyes remained closed.
"Too much for him?" Steve asked in a whisper.
"It's getting like that for everyone," Mark replied. Steve nodded.
"Have you got any new leads?" Amanda asked Steve.
"A small lead," Steve said. "It's not a lot to go on, but a witness remembers seeing a man leaving the scene just before the third bomb went off. She gave us a description, a vague one, but it's something, at least."
"Well, at least that's something," Mark said.
"Sure," Steve drawled, "I mean, how many men of five foot eleven, medium build with a thin and balding head of dark hair could there be in LA?"
"That's not a bad description," Amanda calmed Steve, "except that it sounds like a fairly average man in a big city."
Mark let out a large yawn at that moment. "I'm so tired," he sighed. As he let his arms drop to the table from the stretch with his yawn, and his arm landed on his cup of lukewarm coffee. The cup went flying, and landed with a smash and a splat on the floor.
Jesse, whom had been in a light doze at the time, was startled by the noise, and jerked so much with the fright that he rolled right off of the couch and landed on the floor with a groan.
As Amanda and Steve rolled on their chairs in fits of laughter, Mark said, "Jess, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."
"No problem," Jesse replied, getting up from the floor and straightening his clothes. "I'm awake now anyway." He came over to Mark and started helping him pick up the bits of the cup whilst Amanda got a cloth for the coffee. When the problem was sorted out, Mark decided to go home and get some rest before his shift the next morning.
Once in bed, Mark found the fatigue slowly seep away from him. Before he drifted off to sleep, he thought about the case in hand. The case of the Carolina Street Bomber, as was known.
The first bombing was the Carolina Street Insurance Company, on Carolina Street. This was why the bomber was so called. The bomb went off at approximately four thirty in the afternoon, a fairly peak time. It was a miracle that only one person died in the explosion, because it could have been so many more.
No one had any clues that might have helped the police. The only thing that showed any significance was that one the wall outside, written in spray paint, was "For Tim."
The police had tried searching for anything that related to anyone called Tim, but it was a long shot, and with no success. By that time, the second bomb had blasted in the city, a second place selling insurance. This one was the Jackson Insurance Company, operating on Fairfax Road. This site proved to have slightly more evidence, but nothing that could give the police a solid lead.
Steve and the team found that the bomb was set to go off at five o'clock in the evening, but for some reason, the explosion did not take place. The bomb only went off at half past seven the next morning, when an employee put a heavy box on top of where the bomb was hidden. The employee died as soon as the bomb exploded, and the store manager in the back suffered burns and a broken arm. The fact that something went wrong with the bomb showed that the man was no expert, and probably got the instructions from the Internet or another source.
Other evidence was that on the wall outside the building, there was written, "To Lucy." Because of this, the police could now be sure that the bomber was someone who was out looking for revenge against someone or something, and they were dedicating the bombings to these people.
Mark then thought back to the events of that day. The first two bombs had not been particularly bad, as bombs go. They had produced little emergency for the hospital. The bomber had added some kind of extra strength to the third bomb, it seemed. There had been three deaths from this bomb, which was in the P.T. Marsden Insurance Company, and at least two patients were still in a critical condition. Many more people had come into the hospital with minor injuries, many more than the first two bombs. Mark suspected that the murderer was irritated that his second plan had not gone the way he had wanted, so he had made up for it in the third.
Mark grimaced. Bombing was one of the things he hated. Bombs were man made devices, and he could not tolerate that man would make such a powerful and annihilating machine, and use it with the intention of murdering people.
He was relieved when he caught bombers. He was glad that he did not have the opportunity often. When he did, he was thankful to catch them before they caused any more deaths. Mark wanted to catch this one in particular mainly for this reason, but also, he wanted to find out who the person was dedicating his explosions to, and why.
The more Mark thought about it, the more he wanted to find out who was behind the bombings. The case was driving him mad! Who was this man? How did he get so good at evading the police? The questions spun in Marks head. In the moments before Mark drifted into a deep sleep, he had a thought that niggled at him. He didn't know what it was, but someone or something was in danger, and he had to do something before someone else got hurt.
Summary: When LA is shaken by a series of bombings, Mark needs to clear his head before he can find out who is behind it.
Disclaimer: The characters Mark Sloan, Steve Sloan, Jesse Travis, Amanda Bentley and her sons CJ and Dion do not belong to me, but belong to CBS and Viacom. I am not making a profit from this story it is purely for entertainment.
All other characters belong to me.
I also made up the names of the streets and the insurance companies. If they actually exist, then they do not belong to me, I am not making a profit etc.
Making the Mark
Doctor Mark Sloan ambled sleepily into the Doctors Lounge and made a beeline for the coffee pot. As he was pouring the brew into the cup, he heard a snort from behind him.
He turned around, and smiled at the sight that met him. Doctor Jesse Travis was asleep on one of the couches over the other side of the room. He was facing the ceiling, his tousled hair more ruffled than usual. His right arm was hanging over the side of the couch, and the tips of the fingers just touched the floor. His left arm was against the back of the couch, sticking up almost vertically in the air.
Mark sighed. He was not surprised that Jesse was asleep. Mark was pretty close to the land of slumber, too. It had been another stressful night at Community General Hospital. Mark had a rough idea that Jesse had done an extra four hours on top of his twelve-hour shift. "Come to think of it," Mark muttered to himself, "I've done at least two hours overtime."
That night had been a flood of patients being rolled in at a constant pace. A third in a series of bombings had taken place that evening, and several people were injured. There had been three DOA that had been taken to Amanda Bentley's pathology lab. A couple of patients were critical, but mainly there were patients with minor injuries that could be easily dealt with.
This case had Mark, and the rest of the LAPD, totally stumped. There had been three bombings so far. The first was on April 16th, the next on April 22nd and the third had been three days later, April 25th. All three bombings had taken place in insurance buildings and the bomber had used the same device each time. The only other piece of information that may have been helpful for the police was that on the wall outside each bombing, there had been written three different things. The first said, "For Tim," the second said, "For Lucy," and the third said, "For Joshua." Apart from that, the police had nothing.
Amanda Bentley walked into the Doctors Lounge midway through Mark's chain of thought, and was about to say something when she saw Mark put his finger to his lips and pointed to the sleeping Jesse. Amanda smiled and nodded, and quietly poured herself a cup of coffee.
She sat down at the table with Mark, and they began a conversation in whisper.
"How are you holding up?" Mark asked as she took a sip of her coffee.
"Better than him," Amanda replied, nodding to the sleeping figure not far away. "How about you?"
"Not bad. A bit tired, maybe. But this case has me on edge right now."
"I know what you mean. Have the police got any leads on this guy?" Amanda asked in a low voice.
"No," Mark replied in an equally low voice. "The three insurance buildings aren't linked, apart from selling insurance, of course. The police are trying to look for someone with connections with anyone called Tim, Lucy or Joshua, but it isn't easy, as they could anyone living anywhere."
"Who says they have to be living?" Lieutenant Steve Sloan walked in at that moment. Amanda and Mark both hissed, "Shhh!" Jesse stirred slightly, but his eyes remained closed.
"Too much for him?" Steve asked in a whisper.
"It's getting like that for everyone," Mark replied. Steve nodded.
"Have you got any new leads?" Amanda asked Steve.
"A small lead," Steve said. "It's not a lot to go on, but a witness remembers seeing a man leaving the scene just before the third bomb went off. She gave us a description, a vague one, but it's something, at least."
"Well, at least that's something," Mark said.
"Sure," Steve drawled, "I mean, how many men of five foot eleven, medium build with a thin and balding head of dark hair could there be in LA?"
"That's not a bad description," Amanda calmed Steve, "except that it sounds like a fairly average man in a big city."
Mark let out a large yawn at that moment. "I'm so tired," he sighed. As he let his arms drop to the table from the stretch with his yawn, and his arm landed on his cup of lukewarm coffee. The cup went flying, and landed with a smash and a splat on the floor.
Jesse, whom had been in a light doze at the time, was startled by the noise, and jerked so much with the fright that he rolled right off of the couch and landed on the floor with a groan.
As Amanda and Steve rolled on their chairs in fits of laughter, Mark said, "Jess, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."
"No problem," Jesse replied, getting up from the floor and straightening his clothes. "I'm awake now anyway." He came over to Mark and started helping him pick up the bits of the cup whilst Amanda got a cloth for the coffee. When the problem was sorted out, Mark decided to go home and get some rest before his shift the next morning.
Once in bed, Mark found the fatigue slowly seep away from him. Before he drifted off to sleep, he thought about the case in hand. The case of the Carolina Street Bomber, as was known.
The first bombing was the Carolina Street Insurance Company, on Carolina Street. This was why the bomber was so called. The bomb went off at approximately four thirty in the afternoon, a fairly peak time. It was a miracle that only one person died in the explosion, because it could have been so many more.
No one had any clues that might have helped the police. The only thing that showed any significance was that one the wall outside, written in spray paint, was "For Tim."
The police had tried searching for anything that related to anyone called Tim, but it was a long shot, and with no success. By that time, the second bomb had blasted in the city, a second place selling insurance. This one was the Jackson Insurance Company, operating on Fairfax Road. This site proved to have slightly more evidence, but nothing that could give the police a solid lead.
Steve and the team found that the bomb was set to go off at five o'clock in the evening, but for some reason, the explosion did not take place. The bomb only went off at half past seven the next morning, when an employee put a heavy box on top of where the bomb was hidden. The employee died as soon as the bomb exploded, and the store manager in the back suffered burns and a broken arm. The fact that something went wrong with the bomb showed that the man was no expert, and probably got the instructions from the Internet or another source.
Other evidence was that on the wall outside the building, there was written, "To Lucy." Because of this, the police could now be sure that the bomber was someone who was out looking for revenge against someone or something, and they were dedicating the bombings to these people.
Mark then thought back to the events of that day. The first two bombs had not been particularly bad, as bombs go. They had produced little emergency for the hospital. The bomber had added some kind of extra strength to the third bomb, it seemed. There had been three deaths from this bomb, which was in the P.T. Marsden Insurance Company, and at least two patients were still in a critical condition. Many more people had come into the hospital with minor injuries, many more than the first two bombs. Mark suspected that the murderer was irritated that his second plan had not gone the way he had wanted, so he had made up for it in the third.
Mark grimaced. Bombing was one of the things he hated. Bombs were man made devices, and he could not tolerate that man would make such a powerful and annihilating machine, and use it with the intention of murdering people.
He was relieved when he caught bombers. He was glad that he did not have the opportunity often. When he did, he was thankful to catch them before they caused any more deaths. Mark wanted to catch this one in particular mainly for this reason, but also, he wanted to find out who the person was dedicating his explosions to, and why.
The more Mark thought about it, the more he wanted to find out who was behind the bombings. The case was driving him mad! Who was this man? How did he get so good at evading the police? The questions spun in Marks head. In the moments before Mark drifted into a deep sleep, he had a thought that niggled at him. He didn't know what it was, but someone or something was in danger, and he had to do something before someone else got hurt.
