Flash Point (40 page)

Jenna rushed to Ashlee, pinned her before she could roll over.
Please don't let my knee be on the damned bomb. Please.

She yanked Ashlee's arms behind her back, slapped them in cuffs. ‘Ashlee Haynie, you're under arrest. You have the right to remain silent,' Jenna said, diligently giving the woman all of her Miranda rights. Seemed silly, knowing that underneath that coat, a clock was down to only minutes or seconds before the weapon strapped to her blew them both up, but she did it because she hadn't figured out what to do next. This was habit, and reciting the rote lines helped her stay cool.
Think. There's gotta be a way.

‘I heard what he said,' Ashlee spat as Jenna gave her a push to roll her over. ‘He'd kill an innocent child. Said people didn't care about the truth. Said just tell 'em what they want to hear.'

‘On your feet,' Jenna said, heaving Ashlee up under her elbows. She needed a look at the timer. Maybe she had time to get a bomb squad or SWAT …

‘But these people out here care about the truth, and they're going to be part of it! Beo might've tricked me into getting involved, preyed on my weaknesses, but even so, he was right! What I was fighting for – what happened to my brother—'

Jenna barely listened as she ripped open Ashlee's coat, unzipped the fleece underneath it. What she saw made her heart beat double time – fifty-nine seconds.

Oh, shit.

No time to think. She glanced around her at the cop cars.
Something. Somewhere. Anywhere safe …

Then, she saw it. She tried a couple of the cop cars until she found one whose door wasn't entirely shut. She pried it open, then turned and scooped Ashlee up like a baby in her arms as the woman was in mid-sentence, ‘The government wanted to silence JP, too— What the hell are you—'

The hard drop into the passenger's seat knocked Ashlee's arm on a box in the middle, jammed her leg into the dash and cut her off.

A cop yelled to Jenna, running toward her. ‘What the hell are you doing? That's my cruiser!'

‘FBI,' Jenna yelled, ‘No time to explain. She's got a bomb, set to go off in seconds. Your keys!'

The cop looked dumbfounded a moment, and Jenna could tell for a split-second the cop-side of him tried to assess the situation, handle it more logically. Use protocol.

In the next instant, though, he threw her his keys, which she caught in one hand.

Yeah, I'd rather let someone else deal with this, too, buddy.

Jenna jumped into the car, turned the key in the ignition. Tires screeched as she backed out of the spot, shifted gears, and gunned the engine in what was as close to one solid maneuver as humanly possible. The cruiser picked up speed, and the glowing bomb timer cemented in Jenna's memory was all she could think of. What number it must be down to now? Twenty, maybe. Fifteen?

She tried to force it out of her thoughts and, instead, focused on what was in front of her, the end goal rushing toward her as much as she to it.
Get there. We have to get there.

It's the only way.

Now, Ashlee was screaming, both out of fear from the speed they were gaining, rushing down an access road far too fast to swerve or miss anything that didn't see them coming first and stop for them, as well as out of indignation that her vengeance for her brother – her revenge against General Ted for being everything she'd fought against – was being ripped from her control.

‘Are you crazy? What are you doing? JP died fighting for this! I should get to finish it!' she screamed.

‘Me? Crazy?' Jenna said, flooring the gas pedal, a death grip on the wheel. ‘Of the two of us, I'd say I might be the
slightly
more logical one.'

Logic's driving now. The only way.

‘You do realize that in thirteen seconds,
you're
going to die, too, right? You could've gone, let me finish the mission,' Ashlee said, head bowed.

Poor thing. She hasn't realized it yet.

Wouldn't be long. Jenna's heart thundered as they neared it. She unclipped her safety belt, and, with a spare pair of cuffs from the cruiser's front seat, she grabbed Ashlee's wrist closest to her, clamped one bracelet on Ashlee, the other to the steel grate of the safety partition. Ashlee stared into her eyes, stunned, but Jenna broke the stare to take the sharp veer that led to the bridge.

This is the only way.

Ashlee whimpered, then cried out, her fate finally in her sights. Jenna closed her eyes and yanked the driver's side door handle, throwing her shoulder into the door as hard as she could. She tucked hard, rolled as her body pounded to the cement, Ashlee's awful wail echoing in her ears.

Jenna's body slammed the concrete rail of the bridge, and she stopped rolling. Just in time to hear the crack of the Type III construction barricade advising the closed road, the slight crush of the cruiser hood as it slapped it away like nothing. Then, a second of silence before a splash cracked the river below, the impact so hard it almost sounded as though the car had landed on something solid.

But Jenna knew better. She'd driven so fast and in the direction she had so the car would go straight in, nose down rather than land flat and sink slowly.

I'm sorry, Ashlee. For your brother. For Mitch.

A deep, pressured pop that sounded like cannon fire echoed in the afternoon air, and a few moments later, a light mist rained down on Jenna's bare arms. She closed her eyes and pictured the photograph of baby Nell she'd seen at Flint Lewis's house that day, the sweet, chubby, cheeks that reminded her so much of Ayana's.

Sirens blared, their whoops and howls getting louder, the horns of emergency vehicles chastising drivers in holding them up. She pushed herself off her side, sat up on the bridge, and took a few breaths before using her arms to press up to test her feet. She was shaky but not hurt beyond a bit of painful road rash. That she could tell, anyway.

She would stand and wait for the first responders – for Saleda. Give a statement. But she wanted them to see her up. Alert. Of course they'd want her to go to the hospital to get checked out anyway, but this way, they wouldn't argue as much when she declined. What no one but Saleda or Dodd would know was that she'd obviously be going there, anyway.

She had to see Yancy. Kiss him. And even if he couldn't hear her or understand, she needed to tell him that despite everything that had happened, they were going to be OK, because they had to be. Only no more of this moonlighting as MacGyver business on his end. If she needed to quit the BAU, buy an expensive gaming keyboard, and sit at it around the clock until she'd mastered both Land of Valor
and
the art of professional dachshund insulting to keep them in the same playing field and happy, then he'd just have to hurry up and get out of that hospital bed, because he was going to need to come to Best Buy with her and give some advice.

Her phone buzzed as fire trucks and sheriff's cars were beginning to arrive, pulling in to park sideways across the bridge to block off the scene. She fished into her pocket. Dodd's name shined on the screen.

‘Heard you had some excitement out your way,' he said evenly.

She smiled, despite herself. And even though it wasn't true yet, her gut knew it was. ‘Heard you didn't,' she said. ‘At least, I hope. Is Grey all right? Ruthie? Nell?'

‘They're all fine,' Dodd said. He confirmed that as soon as Ashlee's bomb detonated, the timer and lights on the one attached to the Lewises disengaged. ‘Your word wizard went wandering after a butterfly at some point, though. The patrol she was with said he took her to the outskirts of the action and thought she was sitting tight in the car. Next thing he knew he turned around and she was gone.'

‘That's a shame. I would have liked to thank her.'

‘Well, good luck trying. Something tells me she'll want some alone time to practice bird calls for a while after all this interaction with the real world.'

Jenna smirked. ‘Probably.'

‘You OK?' Dodd asked – outright asking if she was physically hurt, but they both knew he was asking about the emotional toll, too.

‘Ah,' Jenna said, glancing in the direction of the end of the bridge where divers were already jumping into the water. ‘I, uh, I did what I had to do. You said the Lewises are OK. Then I guess I'm OK,' she said, pushing Ashlee Haynie's terrified face from her mind and replacing it with chubby-cheeked Nell.

‘Well, they're OK as they can be, I guess,' Dodd said. ‘Like you.' He paused, then added, ‘Except for Flint, maybe. Second the bomb disengaged, he was in cuffs and on his way to the Pentagon. I daresay his next adventures won't be nearly as amusing for him.'

‘Poor Ruthie,' Jenna said, that sickening feeling washing over her of understanding all too well how you could never quite get over finding out someone you loved wasn't even real.

‘She's shaken, but she's strong,' Dodd said. ‘Both her and that kiddo will turn out all right, Jenna. And this had to happen for them to. Remember that, when you think about what you had to do. And don't worry. I already passed along a little message from you to Nell. I hope you don't mind.'

‘Huh?' Jenna said, waving to Saleda as she stepped out of a black SUV down the hill and came running toward the bridge.

‘Just told her that, between us, having a bad parent – you know, a
really
malignant, heinous parent—'

‘Dodd, I doubt Nell knows either of those words yet,' Jenna cut in.

‘—can actually be an extraordinary thing. Sure, she'll hate the gawking and the whispers. But sharing blood with an evil dragon doesn't necessarily make her an evil dragon, too. I told her that if I had my guess, I'd say it makes her just the opposite.'

Claudia's face swirled in Jenna's mind, her taunting note saying that she'd ruin them with what she knew about Yancy. ‘Unfortunately, I can only vanquish a dragon when I can see her coming. Have a bead on how she plans, recognize her moves, anticipate her habits. Claudia is … not just fighting a dragon. It's playing chess with one, only this game's objective is getting to the battlefield, it's checkmate achieved by getting there at a time through moves your opponent must never see,' Jenna said slowly.

‘That
is
true. But a rested mind can see three moves farther than one that just jumped out of a car to escape a bomb about to explode in the next ten seconds. Even
if
the board is invisible. What do you say we make a deal? You get a shower and a hug from your little girl,' Dodd said, clicking his tongue obnoxiously, ‘and
maybe
go get a much-needed visit in with your man, and tomorrow, I'll show you the file I've been putting together in my off hours of all the leads I have on Claudia since she left Sumpter.'

‘Dodd! You—'

‘Well, somebody had to,' Dodd cut her off. ‘With everyone around your house using all their spare time memorizing nonsense words and playing tag-out trio—'

‘Hey!'

‘
Which
is a perfectly understandable precaution, vital security task, and noble undertaking,' Dodd recovered quickly, ‘I thought you might could use an extra pair of eyes and hands on the case, just to sort of start up the offensive.'

‘Dodd, I don't know what to say …'

He laughed. ‘Say you're on your way to see that sarcastic, thrill-seeking son of a gun you've got yourself mixed up with! I didn't say this before because I didn't really think you'd need much prodding. Plus, I didn't want you to hijack a car to get there—'

‘Dodd, what are you talking about? Spit it,' Jenna said.

He chuckled again. ‘Just get your butt to the hospital, already! I'm telling you, that joker can live through anything. He's awake, and he's been askin' for you.'

‘Jenna? Is that you?'

‘Guess again, lover boy,' Irv said, pushing the hospital door open and stepping into the room.

‘Aw, honey,' Yancy said, eyeing the PlayStation Portable in Irv's had, ‘You shouldn't have.'

‘Aw, it was nothin'. Don't want you gettin' out of practice. There's a tournament comin' up soon,' Irv said, handing over the sleek, handheld game console to Yancy.

‘My, that's quite a thoughtful gesture,' Yancy said, looking over the gift. ‘Which tells me that keeping my street cred at amateur console wars with a bunch of thirteen-year-olds and that one girl who dresses like Sailor Moon isn't the reason for this token of affection. You're not thoughtful, Irv. Definitely not. Pragmatic, maybe. Discreet, OK, and
maybe
even understanding. But thoughtful? Come on. What's this softening the blow of?'

Irv sighed, pulled up the one stiff-backed chair in the room closer to Yancy's bed. The guy looked like someone had shot his puppy.

Oh, shit!
‘Oboe! Is it Oboe? Is he OK? Someone's been taking care of him, right? Jesus, I really need to have some kind of setup for someone to check on him if they ever don't hear from me for a day—'

‘Cool it, wiener-lover,' Irv cut in. ‘Your handsome little brown sausage is just fine.'

Yancy winced. ‘You know, I really never thought I'd hear someone talk to me about my handsome little brown sausage …'

‘Think of it as a get well present,' Irv said. Then his tone turned serious. ‘Speaking of, you're right. I'm not thoughtful. At all. I'm conniving, and I just wanted to get you nice and comfy before I told you—'

‘You're a suspicious bastard who never did believe what I told you about why I was hacking the FBI database, looking for a file?' Yancy said. He laughed. Irv was the best the FBI had, and far better than Yancy at a lot of the professional systems and tools the Feds had access to that he didn't, so he definitely thought Irv was the best person to train him if, for some reason – as Irv thought – he'd ever be able to get a job as an analyst. Either way, though, Yancy had more at stake with that lie he'd told Irv, and he also had approximately half Irv's morals. He'd been watching close to see if Irv showed any sign he hadn't bought it, and he'd been right to.