Okay, into the home stretch. Not too sure how much more there is to go,
but I'm certainly getting close to the end. Thanks to everybody that's
read and reviewed. Keep it up....I need your feedback!
Chapter Nine
"Why didn't you call me?"
"I'm sorry, Sheriff." The young deputy clutched his hat nervously, sitting uncomfortably on the edge of his seat. "It was 6am, and Vince said...."
"Vince said? Vince said? Who is the Sheriff here?"
"You are Sheriff." The deputy lowered his head, staring at the floor. He was pale faced, his bottom lip trembling. He looked like he was about to cry. "I'm sorry Sheriff, please. It'll never happen again. Just give me another chance." He was actually crying now, tears snaking down his cheeks. Scared that he was going to take the brunt of Ben Franklin's temper.
The kid was all of 21. 'Great' though Ben. 'Make me feel like a bully. That makes me feel even better this morning.' He sighed loudly, turning his chair around so he could switch the fan on. It had been so blissfully cool in....
He stopped that thought before it went any further.
"Okay. Look, don't listen to what Vince says. The guys an asshole. I'm the senior officer, so I have to sign off on your arrest papers."
"But we're so far behind with the paperwork after..."
"You let me worry about that, son. Okay? I get the paperwork as soon as you have finished it. Understand?"
"Perfectly, Sheriff."
"Good. Now get out of here." He picked up his pen, holding it poised over the mess of paperwork on his desk until he heard his office door close. He set the pen down, massaging his aching temples. It was so fucking hot in his office. He turned the fan up another notch, feeling it cold against his back.
He took another mouthful of coffee, cold and bitter. He grimaced, recognizing it as the cup he had been drinking when Paige had phoned. He'd lost his appetite for coffee shortly after he'd finished talking to her.
Feeling like he did now, Ben wished that he had stayed on the coffee. He walked over to the pot, freshly made, promising a diversion from his aching head and twisting guts. He glanced at the cork board, hanging on his office wall.
"What the fuck?" Feeling cold dread start to replace his hangover. He hunted through the notice board, jerking down reports and descriptions, sending paper and pins onto the floor, some of them caught by the draft of the fan.
"Shit, no." Coffee forgotten, reports clutched in his hand, Ben lurched towards his desk.
"Why didn't you change the plates on this one?"
"Misdirection." She glanced over her shoulder, making sure that the Nixon's streets were still quiet. "If the police find this one, they'll think that's all we had. They wont look too hard for any others." She winked at him. "Trust me."
One more day. Just one more day and she'd be gone from here forever.
Nicholas manoeuvred the car into position. "Here okay?"
"Just about perfect." She got out of the passenger side. "Make sure you lock your door." She adjusted her sunglasses, waiting on Nicholas. They walked swiftly away from the car.
They still had one more to position.
"Are you ready sweetie?" Paige lifted Rose into the air, listening to her laugh, as her daughter stretched her tiny arms towards the sun. "Will we go for a walk? Will we go see Daddy?"
Rose laughed, stretching out a hand to try and catch hold of Paige's hair. She moved her head away. "Don't do that, sweetie." Paige carried Rose over to the stroller and strapped her in. "Come on Rose."
"Lets go see Daddy."
Michelle had hardly slept, yet she felt better, fresher than she had at any time since she arrived in Nixon. She even felt rested, as if she had had a nights unbroken sleep, something she had rarely managed since the nuclear threat.
She had spent the night talking to Tony.
Just talking about stupid things, whatever happened to come into their heads. Things they had never managed to talk about in LA Every time she had tried to end the conversation, to let them both get some sleep, he'd said something else that had kept them talking, kept the conversation going.
It wasn't the first time she had watched the sun come up with him. But it definitely beat the shit out of the first time.
He had helped her deal with a few things, issues he hadn't even known about. Helped her push her guilt and her demons from LA away. Had even helped her push aside her guilt about everything that had happened since she arrived in Nixon.
Tony loved her. Believed in her. Trusted her.
The phone rang. She picked it up, still lost in her thoughts and daydreams. "Hello?"
"Ms Dessler, please hold for a phone call."
"Okay." She waited for the telltale clicks. "Hello?" She couldn't stop herself smiling. Maybe it was Tony...
"Hello Michelle."
The smile died quickly on her face. "Ben."
His voice was cold, calm professional. Even his accent was clipped, bitter. Everything that Tony's voice hadn't been when he spoke to her. "We've got a problem."
She took a breath, making sure her professional mask was in place while she waited for him to continue.
"We've had about half a dozen GTAs since the explosion that killed McGarrity. Four in the last 24 hours."
"How many do you normally have?"
Ben's laugh was sharp and bitter. "Not that many."
"Loughlin's behind this." She noticed her had become as detached, as business like as his was. "She must be planning a second strike, it's too much of a coincidence to be anything else."
"I know. Couple of them were stolen last night." He coughed hurriedly and rushed on. "But where's the target, Michelle? There's not exactly a hell of a lot here."
She knew the answer, knew with cold clear, dreadful certainty what the target would be. "Main Street, Ben. Loughlin's going to hit Main Street."
"Main Street?" Michelle could hear him struggling with the concept. "But..."
"Everything flows through it, Ben. It's the only place in Nixon she can pick that's big enough to make an impact." She unlocked the drawer in the bedside table and pulled her phone and gun out of it.
"What should I do?"
She nearly dropped the phone at how broken Ben Franklin sounded, how weak, like all the strength and will had been drained from him by the threat against his town. She wondered if she had ever sounded like that. "Close off Main Street." She checked the magazine and action on her gun. "I'll be there as soon as I can."
Main Street was quiet by the time she arrived. She could see people clustered around a car, a powerful Ford sedan, caged off by police tape, and a number of white shirted deputies, trying to hold back the growing crowds.
She saw Ben Franklin, doing his best to direct operations and started to walk towards him.
A white shirted arm snaked in front of her. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I'm going to have to ask you to step back."
Was it her imagination, or did the deputy smirk as he spoke?
"Lucas?" Ben had recovered some of his poise and control. "Let her through." Lucas took another look at her, and moved his arm away. She could hear the crowd murmuring as she walked towards the Sheriff.
Ben managed to smile at her. "We found it." He pointed at the car. "Stolen from outside Proudstag Bar late last night." He pointed at the rear wheel on the driver's side. "And it has a device on the wheel arch."
Michelle hunkered down to look at the device. Knowing that Franklin's eyes were on her. She nodded to herself, recognizing Loughlin's handiwork.
"Can you disarm it?"
She ignored him. "Get those people away from here!"
Ben turned and signalled one of the deputies. Slowly they began to disperse the crowd, driving them up Main Street, away from the car. "Michelle. I need to know. Can you disarm it?"
She slung her bag from her shoulder and pulled out her cell phone. "Maybe. I need you to make a phone call for me."
There were police all over Nixon's Main Street. Forming a security cordon around the car, parked at the bottom end of the street.
Michael Hunte knew a security alert when he saw one. And he knew that the only thing in Nixon that could provoke an alert like this was Sinead Loughlin.
So where was she?
Hunte took a look around, careful to use the increasingly curious crowd to conceal himself. If he closed his eyes, if he imagined the wind and the rain, instead of the constant baking sun, he could almost be back home.
He found her more by luck than design, strains of a familiar accent drifting the through the silence of a town bracing itself.
He let some people drift past him, keeping them between him and Loughlin, then followed after them. His fingers curled into fists as he followed, and he kept repeating Baillie's instructions. Knowing that there was more at stake than just his revenge, than justice for Brian, that there were bigger scalps to be taken.
God help him, he wanted to finish this, to finish her.
They walked away from Main Street. Setting a slow, disinterested pace that made him grind his teeth in frustration. He watched her reach into her pocket and pull out a small device, which she handed to Nicholas. They shook hands and separated.
Hunte pounded his fist against his thigh and decided to follow Loughlin. "Finish what you start, Michael" he mouthed to himself. He tightened his grip on his gun.
His phone rang, startling him. Forcing him to back away even further.
"Hello? Yeah, speaking."
She wondered where everybody was. Main Street was unusually quiet, deserted. Paige made a face at Rose over the handle of the stroller, smiling as Rose laughed, clapping her hands together.
She kept walking down the street, seeing a crowd of people drifting, slowly, reluctantly towards them. Other than that, though, Main Street was almost empty of people.
Lots of cars, though.
"Mr Hunte, I'm Sheriff Ben Franklin. I'm here with Michelle Dessler."
"What can I do for you Sheriff?"
"We've found a bomb that we think was planted by Sinead Loughlin. I've asked Michelle to disable it, but she wants you to help with it."
"I'm a little busy at the minute, Sheriff." Ben could hear his breathing increase down the speaker. "But I'll help if I can."
Ben glanced at Michelle, carefully unscrewing the covering on the bomb. He walked over to the car, where two of his deputies watched anxiously as Michelle worked. "I'll just pass you over to her."
He heard Hunte bark "No!" at the same time as Michelle shook her head.
"She's going to need both hands free, Sheriff. You're going to have to pass my instructions on."
"Okay." He moved closer, his eyes flicking between Michelle and the exposed bomb.
"How many wires are there?"
Ben relayed the question, listening as Hunte's breathing got harsher, as his voice dipped in and out of range of the microphone. He watched Michelle carefully separate out of the wires and hold up three fingers.
"Tell him there's three, Ben. Red, green and yellow. I think I need to cut the red one."
Ben opened his mouth to speak, but Hunte interrupted him. "Tell her to cut the red wire."
He looked around the deserted side street. Grinning as he imagined the crowds and carnage on Main Street.
He pulled out the trigger and pushed the button.
His phone pressed against his ear, Hunte watched Loughlin slow her pace. He smiled, listening as Franklin, excitement and relief chasing each other through his voice, describing that the clock on the bomb had stopped. He reached around to the small of his back, putting his hand back on the butt of his gun.
He watched Loughlin pull a trigger from her pocket and press the button.
"Ben! There's another bomb!"
Ben spun around, the phone falling from his nerveless grasp, clattering on the ground.
Looking back up Main Street
....As a Jeep exploded outside the Sheriff's Office, echoed terrifyingly from the top of Main Street.
Chapter Nine
"Why didn't you call me?"
"I'm sorry, Sheriff." The young deputy clutched his hat nervously, sitting uncomfortably on the edge of his seat. "It was 6am, and Vince said...."
"Vince said? Vince said? Who is the Sheriff here?"
"You are Sheriff." The deputy lowered his head, staring at the floor. He was pale faced, his bottom lip trembling. He looked like he was about to cry. "I'm sorry Sheriff, please. It'll never happen again. Just give me another chance." He was actually crying now, tears snaking down his cheeks. Scared that he was going to take the brunt of Ben Franklin's temper.
The kid was all of 21. 'Great' though Ben. 'Make me feel like a bully. That makes me feel even better this morning.' He sighed loudly, turning his chair around so he could switch the fan on. It had been so blissfully cool in....
He stopped that thought before it went any further.
"Okay. Look, don't listen to what Vince says. The guys an asshole. I'm the senior officer, so I have to sign off on your arrest papers."
"But we're so far behind with the paperwork after..."
"You let me worry about that, son. Okay? I get the paperwork as soon as you have finished it. Understand?"
"Perfectly, Sheriff."
"Good. Now get out of here." He picked up his pen, holding it poised over the mess of paperwork on his desk until he heard his office door close. He set the pen down, massaging his aching temples. It was so fucking hot in his office. He turned the fan up another notch, feeling it cold against his back.
He took another mouthful of coffee, cold and bitter. He grimaced, recognizing it as the cup he had been drinking when Paige had phoned. He'd lost his appetite for coffee shortly after he'd finished talking to her.
Feeling like he did now, Ben wished that he had stayed on the coffee. He walked over to the pot, freshly made, promising a diversion from his aching head and twisting guts. He glanced at the cork board, hanging on his office wall.
"What the fuck?" Feeling cold dread start to replace his hangover. He hunted through the notice board, jerking down reports and descriptions, sending paper and pins onto the floor, some of them caught by the draft of the fan.
"Shit, no." Coffee forgotten, reports clutched in his hand, Ben lurched towards his desk.
"Why didn't you change the plates on this one?"
"Misdirection." She glanced over her shoulder, making sure that the Nixon's streets were still quiet. "If the police find this one, they'll think that's all we had. They wont look too hard for any others." She winked at him. "Trust me."
One more day. Just one more day and she'd be gone from here forever.
Nicholas manoeuvred the car into position. "Here okay?"
"Just about perfect." She got out of the passenger side. "Make sure you lock your door." She adjusted her sunglasses, waiting on Nicholas. They walked swiftly away from the car.
They still had one more to position.
"Are you ready sweetie?" Paige lifted Rose into the air, listening to her laugh, as her daughter stretched her tiny arms towards the sun. "Will we go for a walk? Will we go see Daddy?"
Rose laughed, stretching out a hand to try and catch hold of Paige's hair. She moved her head away. "Don't do that, sweetie." Paige carried Rose over to the stroller and strapped her in. "Come on Rose."
"Lets go see Daddy."
Michelle had hardly slept, yet she felt better, fresher than she had at any time since she arrived in Nixon. She even felt rested, as if she had had a nights unbroken sleep, something she had rarely managed since the nuclear threat.
She had spent the night talking to Tony.
Just talking about stupid things, whatever happened to come into their heads. Things they had never managed to talk about in LA Every time she had tried to end the conversation, to let them both get some sleep, he'd said something else that had kept them talking, kept the conversation going.
It wasn't the first time she had watched the sun come up with him. But it definitely beat the shit out of the first time.
He had helped her deal with a few things, issues he hadn't even known about. Helped her push her guilt and her demons from LA away. Had even helped her push aside her guilt about everything that had happened since she arrived in Nixon.
Tony loved her. Believed in her. Trusted her.
The phone rang. She picked it up, still lost in her thoughts and daydreams. "Hello?"
"Ms Dessler, please hold for a phone call."
"Okay." She waited for the telltale clicks. "Hello?" She couldn't stop herself smiling. Maybe it was Tony...
"Hello Michelle."
The smile died quickly on her face. "Ben."
His voice was cold, calm professional. Even his accent was clipped, bitter. Everything that Tony's voice hadn't been when he spoke to her. "We've got a problem."
She took a breath, making sure her professional mask was in place while she waited for him to continue.
"We've had about half a dozen GTAs since the explosion that killed McGarrity. Four in the last 24 hours."
"How many do you normally have?"
Ben's laugh was sharp and bitter. "Not that many."
"Loughlin's behind this." She noticed her had become as detached, as business like as his was. "She must be planning a second strike, it's too much of a coincidence to be anything else."
"I know. Couple of them were stolen last night." He coughed hurriedly and rushed on. "But where's the target, Michelle? There's not exactly a hell of a lot here."
She knew the answer, knew with cold clear, dreadful certainty what the target would be. "Main Street, Ben. Loughlin's going to hit Main Street."
"Main Street?" Michelle could hear him struggling with the concept. "But..."
"Everything flows through it, Ben. It's the only place in Nixon she can pick that's big enough to make an impact." She unlocked the drawer in the bedside table and pulled her phone and gun out of it.
"What should I do?"
She nearly dropped the phone at how broken Ben Franklin sounded, how weak, like all the strength and will had been drained from him by the threat against his town. She wondered if she had ever sounded like that. "Close off Main Street." She checked the magazine and action on her gun. "I'll be there as soon as I can."
Main Street was quiet by the time she arrived. She could see people clustered around a car, a powerful Ford sedan, caged off by police tape, and a number of white shirted deputies, trying to hold back the growing crowds.
She saw Ben Franklin, doing his best to direct operations and started to walk towards him.
A white shirted arm snaked in front of her. "I'm sorry, ma'am. I'm going to have to ask you to step back."
Was it her imagination, or did the deputy smirk as he spoke?
"Lucas?" Ben had recovered some of his poise and control. "Let her through." Lucas took another look at her, and moved his arm away. She could hear the crowd murmuring as she walked towards the Sheriff.
Ben managed to smile at her. "We found it." He pointed at the car. "Stolen from outside Proudstag Bar late last night." He pointed at the rear wheel on the driver's side. "And it has a device on the wheel arch."
Michelle hunkered down to look at the device. Knowing that Franklin's eyes were on her. She nodded to herself, recognizing Loughlin's handiwork.
"Can you disarm it?"
She ignored him. "Get those people away from here!"
Ben turned and signalled one of the deputies. Slowly they began to disperse the crowd, driving them up Main Street, away from the car. "Michelle. I need to know. Can you disarm it?"
She slung her bag from her shoulder and pulled out her cell phone. "Maybe. I need you to make a phone call for me."
There were police all over Nixon's Main Street. Forming a security cordon around the car, parked at the bottom end of the street.
Michael Hunte knew a security alert when he saw one. And he knew that the only thing in Nixon that could provoke an alert like this was Sinead Loughlin.
So where was she?
Hunte took a look around, careful to use the increasingly curious crowd to conceal himself. If he closed his eyes, if he imagined the wind and the rain, instead of the constant baking sun, he could almost be back home.
He found her more by luck than design, strains of a familiar accent drifting the through the silence of a town bracing itself.
He let some people drift past him, keeping them between him and Loughlin, then followed after them. His fingers curled into fists as he followed, and he kept repeating Baillie's instructions. Knowing that there was more at stake than just his revenge, than justice for Brian, that there were bigger scalps to be taken.
God help him, he wanted to finish this, to finish her.
They walked away from Main Street. Setting a slow, disinterested pace that made him grind his teeth in frustration. He watched her reach into her pocket and pull out a small device, which she handed to Nicholas. They shook hands and separated.
Hunte pounded his fist against his thigh and decided to follow Loughlin. "Finish what you start, Michael" he mouthed to himself. He tightened his grip on his gun.
His phone rang, startling him. Forcing him to back away even further.
"Hello? Yeah, speaking."
She wondered where everybody was. Main Street was unusually quiet, deserted. Paige made a face at Rose over the handle of the stroller, smiling as Rose laughed, clapping her hands together.
She kept walking down the street, seeing a crowd of people drifting, slowly, reluctantly towards them. Other than that, though, Main Street was almost empty of people.
Lots of cars, though.
"Mr Hunte, I'm Sheriff Ben Franklin. I'm here with Michelle Dessler."
"What can I do for you Sheriff?"
"We've found a bomb that we think was planted by Sinead Loughlin. I've asked Michelle to disable it, but she wants you to help with it."
"I'm a little busy at the minute, Sheriff." Ben could hear his breathing increase down the speaker. "But I'll help if I can."
Ben glanced at Michelle, carefully unscrewing the covering on the bomb. He walked over to the car, where two of his deputies watched anxiously as Michelle worked. "I'll just pass you over to her."
He heard Hunte bark "No!" at the same time as Michelle shook her head.
"She's going to need both hands free, Sheriff. You're going to have to pass my instructions on."
"Okay." He moved closer, his eyes flicking between Michelle and the exposed bomb.
"How many wires are there?"
Ben relayed the question, listening as Hunte's breathing got harsher, as his voice dipped in and out of range of the microphone. He watched Michelle carefully separate out of the wires and hold up three fingers.
"Tell him there's three, Ben. Red, green and yellow. I think I need to cut the red one."
Ben opened his mouth to speak, but Hunte interrupted him. "Tell her to cut the red wire."
He looked around the deserted side street. Grinning as he imagined the crowds and carnage on Main Street.
He pulled out the trigger and pushed the button.
His phone pressed against his ear, Hunte watched Loughlin slow her pace. He smiled, listening as Franklin, excitement and relief chasing each other through his voice, describing that the clock on the bomb had stopped. He reached around to the small of his back, putting his hand back on the butt of his gun.
He watched Loughlin pull a trigger from her pocket and press the button.
"Ben! There's another bomb!"
Ben spun around, the phone falling from his nerveless grasp, clattering on the ground.
Looking back up Main Street
....As a Jeep exploded outside the Sheriff's Office, echoed terrifyingly from the top of Main Street.