A/N: I don't want to confuse you the reader with this chapter. Last chapter we found out that Daniel was actually Colin. Since Rick had a troubled past he too changed his name when he came to the U.S. Rick and Patrick O'Farrell are one in the same person. Sorry for the late A/N. And now on to chapter 6...
Ireland. It had been a lifetime ago. He thought he had left that life behind him years ago. As he looked at the ammo box hanging from the rafter in Smitty's basement, his worst fears were confirmed. Before he considers his own life, his concern is the safety of his daughter. He knows that the person who set the bomb, who baited him will likely make another attempt on his daughter. As he studies the device he realizes that there's no outcome in which he will come through this alive. That goes for Smitty as well. The fact that the device was custom made it and of itself, leads him to deduce who had constructed it. He carefully inspects the device. He knows from experience that there is more than one surprise here; he just needs to find them.
From above he hears a shaky, muffled voice calling him, startling him for a second. "Rick, how does it look?" Smitty asks hopefully.
"It looks like a bomb Smitty." Rick grins sardonically. Humor, specifically black gallows humor gets them through when they are faced with insurmountable odds, like today.
Rick hears his friend's edgy chuckle and retort, "smart ass."
Rick looks at the routing of the leads that connect the pressure plate to the TATP in the ammo box. Until he looks closer, he almost misses a second set of leads that are hidden well. He carefully removes the Romex® cable and traces the red and black leads that run behind the cable. He follows them from the pressure plate along the main beam of the first floor. They stretch about the entire length of the basement. Walking under the rafter he finally sees where they end. They join a second cable, most likely the doorbell wires and then drop down into the breaker box.
Smitty's basement is unfinished. His washer and dryer are up against the wall under a small 6 x18 inch window. Then he looks at the two breaker boxes mounted next to each other opposite the dryer, he pulls out his flashlight and rests his head even with the back of each box. Shining the light behind each box he sees that one is secured to the inside of the vertical rafter. The second is not. It's just placed there; looking like it is mounted to the rafter. Looking back up to where the leads move into the first breaker box he notices a PVC fitting connecting the two boxes together.
Rick sighs. He now has two red flags, waving madly: the second box is not secured to the rafter and there is a gray PVC fitting joining the boxes together. He takes his cordless screwdriver and very delicately removes the screws that hold the front cover onto the second breaker box. With all the screws out, he pries the cover open, from the left side opposite the latch so he can look inside to see if the latch is wired to detonate when opened. Thankfully, it's not, but after looking inside, he has bigger problems. First: there is about 11 pounds of TATP crammed into the box and second: there is a digital timer counting down from 38:19, 18, 17, 16. Rick whispers under his breath "God damn you, Colin."
Yeah, now he definitely knows who built and set this device. The latest confirmation of a ghost's proficiency is staring him directly in the face. Colin has come back to the living. He thought for sure his life was free from this psychopath. He was always the loose cannon when they were younger and it appears that he hasn't changed his ways in their old age.
Rick retreats to the staircase and heads back upstairs. He briefs Smitty and the rest of the squad. They will need to work fast if they have any chance of saving Smitty. Rick lies down by the pressure plate and sees that it too is custom made. He needs to find the secondary trigger, because Colin would always have a backup.
After surveying the plate, because whatever Colin's sick mind had thought up is most certainly within the plate and consequently inaccessible to Rick, he gets up and looks at Smitty, trying not to project his grim findings. "Paul, I have an idea."
Smitty looked at his friend, and he did not like what he saw in his eyes. He had an inkling and he was sure it would not end well for either of them. He knows that Rick would be with him to the end if needed. That was the way it was.
Rick speaks quietly to Smitty, "Paul, we will get you off that plate. There is something I need to do with the rest of the squad, give me a minute and I'll tell you what our plan of attack will be." Smitty nods slowly not wanting to move too much.
Rick walks up to the rest of the unit. "Guys I need a couple of things. We need to work fast so there will be no screw-ups, understood? Baez, I need you to get me two canisters of Liquid Nitrogen and the protective gear to handle it. Tech Air has a facility in Long Island City in Queens. We are only about 7 minutes from there if you drive like the wheels are on fire. Steal it if you have to, I don't care." Baez takes off for the BDU truck and is gone. "Charlie, I need you to get your hands on about 10 pounds of dry ice. I don't care where you get it from just go...now." Charlie retraces Baez's steps and he is out the door.
Rick walks over to Smitty. "Paul, here's what we are going to do. When those guys get back with what I need, I am going to flood this plate with the first canister of liquid nitro. While that's cooling, I will head down to the basement and pack the dry ice around the breaker box and the last step will be using the remaining canister to flood the breaker box. The dry ice should render the TATP dormant and the liquid nitro should slow the digital timer for about 20 seconds in our favor. And with the liquid nitro being pumped in the two locations that should buy us another 10 to 15 seconds"
Smitty has just one question and Rick knows what it is.
"Rick, you can't sacrifice yourself. If you're bucking for sainthood, you stupid son of a bitch, you've got to believe in a god first." Smitty shook his head, knowing that it was a hopeless argument. "You and I both know that the only way that this will work will be if there is someone down in the basement, ready to cut the lead that arms the plate."
"Paul, while being a saint could be kind of cool I have no intention of sacrificing myself." Rick smiles his cocky world-conquering grin. "After I set up the cooling countermeasures, you need to be ready to run for the hills."
Rick turns and waits for Baez and Charlie on the stoop. Charlie returns first with the dry ice. While he waits for Baez he thinks about what Paul just said. He does know that this is a one-way job and he will gladly give his life to save another. He closes his eyes and he sees his daughter and silently asks for her forgiveness. The irony in the situation is that Paul would do the same exact thing if the roles were reversed. Drawn out of his thoughts Charlie tells him that Baez is back. Rick swallows his feelings and takes the N2 from Baez. He puts on the gear to handle the gas and once in position, starts flooding the plate with it. Grabbing the dry ice and the other canister of N2 he starts towards the basement.
He is stopped at the top of the stairs when he hears Paul ask, "Brothers forever?
Rick turns back before he descends, the time for humor past, but gives Smitty a confident grin nonetheless and with a nod of his head, he confirms, "Yeah: brothers forever."
Rick packs the dry ice around the breaker box. When that is done he takes the N2 canister and points the nozzle directly at the box. He opens the valve and the gas starts to flow around the box. While that is doing its job, he starts to gear up in the EOD suit. Placing the helmet on last, he takes one last look at the N2. It is doing the job nicely. He removes the cutting pliers from his pouch and walks to the other end of the basement. Raising his arm up to the leads he calls up to Smitty. Radios can't be used because they operate on a frequency that could possibly set off the bomb.
"Paul, are you ready?" Rick yells.
"As ready as I'll ever be," he replies.
"Is everyone from the unit and support personnel clear?"
"Been clear Rick, just cut the damn lead already!"
"Alright, we go on a 3 count..." Smitty tries to control his breathing while he waits for the count.
"1...2...3"
Rick relies on his training and experience to make the decision and cuts the black lead. He feels the blood drain from his face the second he severs the lead as the plate re-arms without warning.
"Shit," he curses through clenched teeth. All he has time to do is drop his arms and head before the ammo box detonates in a fireball and takes out the first and second floors of the house. Then, less than 6 seconds later the 11 pounds of TATP in the breaker box detonates. It is so powerful that it blows a crater into the basement that would rival one of the moon's craters. Two adjoining houses are also heavily damaged as well as windows being shattered for more than a half mile away.
The BDU team watched as Smitty ran out the front door of his home. He only had about 5 seconds to get to some type of cover. They hoped that he would make it. When the ammo box blew, he was just hitting the front porch and the concussion of the blast shot him forward through the air. He landed hard on the street. Charlie ran over and hauled him behind a parked patrol unit. Getting as small as they could, they waited for the worst. Less than 2 seconds later the whole area shook. Night became day as the second explosion detonated.
The second blast could be felt in southern Manhattan, Queens and as far away as Jersey City, and could be seen for 2 miles in any direction. No one could hear a thing. Slowly the first responders started to get to their feet. Cops were assisting people who mostly had cuts and lacerations thanking god that they pulled back to a safer distance. Charlie and Smitty got up and looked for Baez. After finding him, Charlie looks to Smitty for a sign of hope for Rick. Smitty just hung his head. Since what was left of his house was now a crime scene, the yellow police tape went up along with the barriers.
Sadly, they began a recovery mission rather than a rescue. They all knew that Rick would have never survived the magnitude of the blast. Deciding to wait until the FDNY extinguished all the small fires that had ignited around the scene, Charlie and Baez changed into their dreaded Ty-vex suits. Receiving the okay from the fire department, they slowly and methodically start to collect evidence. They are about an hour into the job when a shaken but determined Smitty joins them after having left the hospital against medical advice, too impatient to linger and instead anxious to help search for the remains of his friend. It's the only way to honor him, now.
Forty minutes prior to detonation...
Daniel had a front row seat to the show. He was still tapped into the security system in the house. He watched Rick's every move. He had anticipated just about everything he did. The icing on the cake was that he could see that Rick thought he could save both Smitty and himself. His last and final surprise was going to take Rick out. While he had set up the plate to activate when the power lead was cut, the internal separate power supply would re-activate the plate. It would not matter which lead you cut, neither of them would disable the bomb. He watched as Rick used the by-the-book counter measures anticipated his every move and he knew that they would do him no good.
He watched as Rick adjusted the nozzle on the second canister of N2 to point directly at the breaker box and then Rick looked over to the unused portion of the basement. Uncertain at what had his attention he shrugged it off when Rick fell out of the monitors view. Within seconds, Rick was back in front of the camera. Daniel watched as he walked over to the ammo box getting ready to raise his arms to cut the lead that would disarm the plate. Watching as Rick cut the lead, he noticed in the split second before the explosion that the look on his face had changed drastically. Daniel delighted when Rick realized the he had cut the wrong lead. He watched as Rick dropped his arms down lowered his head and closed his eyes...praying maybe?
The first explosion knocked out the camera, but before it died, it gave him one last shot of his childhood friend, Patrick O'Farrell. In his heart, it saddened him that it had to come to this, but all of it had been his own doing. If he had just listened to what they had asked of him all those years ago then he would not be dead now. Having taken an eye for an eye, he felt somewhat vindicated, although nothing would ever replace the lives of his father, mother, and sister. He meticulously removed any evidence that he had ever been in the safe house. He would move on and relocate, but stay in the U.S., eventually giving the boys in the BDU unit something more to keep them busy, but for now he would become a recluse.
When he came to, it was like there was an elephant sitting on his chest. It was pitch black. He could not see anything and the only sound was a persistent low register hum, like heavy construction equipment rolling across a demolished building. 'When or if he ever got out of this mess he was going to give Smitty a great big kiss,' he thought. 'He was literally a lifesaver,' He sobered, 'that is if Smitty had made it.' After he set up the N2 in the fake breaker box, he spotted his escape plan: a slim chance if things went wrong: opposite the washer and dryer Smitty had a 72" tall 48" deep gun safe. He was always talking about going to the range and as if luck was in his favor, Smitty had left the safe doors open. After he cut the black lead he dropped his arms and head, stood there and closed his eyes. The ammo box was positioned so that most of the blast damage would or should be projected in an upwards direction. Therefore, if it detonated, his EOD suit would take most of the concussion and flames doing its job and keeping him alive.
He just did not count on it happening so quickly though. The blast catapulted him backwards and into the safe and he had just enough time to close one of the doors. He was not quite fast enough to close the remaining door before the second blast hit, turning almost everything in the workshop into a high-speed projectiles. Right before the safe door slammed shut, shrapnel from the washer or dryer had targeted him and struck home as swiftly as a Patriot missile. It had penetrated the EOD suit and buried itself in his chest.
His hope was that the squad had begun to collect the evidence and would find him soon. That would be the only way he would survive. The safe was airtight, sealed shut from the force of the blast and he figured that he had about 2 hours of breathing air when the doors closed. He just hoped that they would get to him in time.
Smitty limps to the edge of the huge crater that had once been his house. Everything he had owned was either completely destroyed or spread over a debris field. As he looked in the hole he noticed the safe. It was on its side and the front was scorched and dented, but it had survived. He had hoped his weapons had too.
As he starts to move towards the massive hole, he suddenly stops and turns at the sound of screeching tires. He looks for the source of the noise. As the car comes to a stop, a tall woman jumps from the driver's seat. Hell, he even thinks the car was still rolling when she jumped out of it. She seems to be on a mission. She looks shocked by the devastation all around her. She is scanning for someone and then quickly walks towards him.
Flashing her shield, she speaks, hoping to keep the worry out of her voice. "I'm looking for Lieutenant Castle. Have you seen him?"
Smitty's face turns somber as he shakes his head sadly and says, "Ma'am I have not, and by the look of things, I don't think that we will."
Kate looks into the crater. There had to be a chance that he might have lived through the blast. She was now determined to look for him, too.
"Sir, what's your name?"
"My name is Paul, but my friends call me Smitty. Officer Smith, ma'am."
"Paul: my name is Kate Beckett. I'd like to help out."
"Kate, while I would love to have help, Homicide detectives generally don't have the necessary training for collecting evidence at a blast site." Paul replied in an defeated tone.
"Actually Paul, that's not true."
Smitty looked at her with a shocked look on his face. Looking at her again he decided to ask her what she meant.
"I worked with Lieutenant Castle at the scene on 16th street."
A look of discovery crossed Smitty's face. "So you're the Kate he was talking about."
"He talked about me?"
"He did, nonstop for the past few days. Truly, we were getting sick and tired of it. The only break we got from him was when he went home."
Kate looks to her feet standing in the rubble and asks, "So Paul, please?"
"First, you call me Smitty. If you worked with Ricky, then you were trained the right way. Hell yeah, I could use all the help that you can give."
Kate tries to think of the job at hand, not Castle's lopsided grin. She still has hope and she'll hold onto it until she learns differently. Suited up, she meets Smitty, Baez and Charlie back at the blast site. Just like Rick had done, Smitty divided the basement into a grid. They all had an area to scour through and having a solid game plan in place, they got to their grim work.