Pete pocketed the phone then swiveled his head to regard Gibson. “And what am I going to do with you? Can’t have you roaming around, playing peeping Tom while I introduce myself to our guests.”
Gibson didn’t like the glint in Pete’s eye—sometimes the brothers forgot that it was Gibson responsible for them being free as well as Clint. He wished Clint had just killed them back at the truck stop where he’d picked them up after they killed the guards. But Clint said he needed at least one of them alive to play fall guy, clear his and Gibson’s escape after tonight.
“Don’t worry about me, I’m headed out. Gotta stay on schedule. Big night tonight.”
“Better be. You know the reward on Clint’s up to six figures. Me and Paulie, we’d best clear at least that with this score of yours. Otherwise…” He didn’t finish his threat. Didn’t have to.
Gibson turned and headed toward the carport where the silver Toyota waited. He made sure he was out of Pete’s sight before he let his feelings show through. He wanted to be confident like Clint, unafraid of the risks he was taking, certain of the outcome. But so much could go wrong, and the stakes were so high.
At least he wouldn’t have to worry about Pete coming after him. Between the two hostages, he was sure Pete would be well occupied until the job was done and he and Clint were long gone.
Poor Morgan. She was in for a rough night of it. Pete might have orders not to kill her, but no one ever said anything about not killing her Sir Galahad—or making her watch.
Chapter 19
JENNA AND OSHIRO arrived at the school and parked outside the police cordon. Most of the kids were gone, except for a bunch who mingled with other civilians beyond the barricades. The Allegheny County bomb squad was there along with the county’s mobile command center, taking point, but Jenna also saw a Pittsburgh city K9 unit and one of their own bomb squad’s tactical vans as well as patrol cars from the Monroeville PD.
Oshiro strode through the crowd of law enforcement like Moses parting the Red Sea, Jenna bobbing along in his wake. The hopeful warm spring air was rapidly being replaced by gusting winds that carried the promise of rain and snow. Despite the cornucopia of cop cars from various jurisdictions, Oshiro led her unerringly to the two things any cop needed: intel and a hot cup of coffee.
They found both inside the mobile command center where Andre and a state trooper were briefing the locals on what they knew about Gibson. When the statie finished, Oshiro introduced her to Jenna as Corporal Harding—“Call me Liz,” she interrupted him—and handed Jenna off to her while he joined Andre at the bank of monitors focused on the search inside the school.
Jenna quickly filled Liz in on what little she knew—well, what little she was willing to share—and watched as Oshiro and Andre quickly bonded over their joysticks and gadgets, conducting an entire conversation via monosyllabic utterances and the occasional chin jerk.
“Guys,” Liz said. “Always with the tribal bonding and alpha dog sniffing.” She shrugged and sipped her coffee. “Whatever gets the job done.”
The RV was small enough that there was no way Oshiro and Andre couldn’t hear her, but the only indication that they did was Oshiro shrugging one shoulder. Liz seemed to translate that as “Come here, we’ve found something,” and the two women moved closer until they could watch the screens over the men’s shoulders.
To Jenna’s surprise, they weren’t monitoring the progress of the bomb techs but rather video feeds of security cameras dating back the past week.
“Principal said there’d been no alarms and no record of Gibson being on the premises at all this week. We had their security company give us access so we could see for ourselves,” Liz explained.
“What about the bomb?” Jenna asked.
“Oh, it’s there. Hiding in plain sight.” Andre switched something on the monitor to reveal a live feed of a long hallway that ended in a set of double doors. A robot was making its way slowly down the hall; the camera he’d accessed must have been a body cam on a bomb tech’s suit.
“Where?”
“Inside the fire extinguisher. Kid emptied out the real one, replaced it. Big question is what with,” Oshiro said.
“And what the trigger device is,” Andre finished for him. “Gibson’s shopping list included European camp stove tablets.”
Damn. The tablets were made of hexamine—a popular detonating agent among amateur bomb makers and terrorists.
“They’ll handle the bomb,” Liz told Jenna. “Our concern is when it was placed. If it was sometime in the past day, we can track the kid’s movements, maybe get a lead on where he was going.”
“Which means a lead on where Clint is.”
“Exactly. If your theory is correct and the kid is our convicts’ conduit to the outside world, then he’s the key to finding them.”
“Except we’re not seeing anything on the security footage,” Andre said.