Page 96 of Blind Trust
“How did the conversation with your parents go?” Nic heard Lyla let out a breath. “I never got a chance to ask you.”
“You mean because I was being kidnapped by a disgruntled government employee?”
He smiled. “Not even a bomb can squash your snark.” He looked at Jeremy. “I told you she was plucky.”
Jeremy grinned and handed Nic a shim that he carefully slid into place to keep the trigger in the armed position. After determining the orange fuses were touch sensors, he cautiously worked around them.
“We didn’t get to talk much, but I’m hoping I’ll get that chance.”
Nic opened the next panel and blew out a breath. Three switches connected to a mess of wires that would make an eager or unexperienced bomb tech assume only one of them would lead to detonation. But that assumption would mean certain death, because this was another trap. He’d seen it before in Afghanistan. All three switches would detonate the bomb.
“How you doing, Nicolás?” Lyla’s voice shook. “I bet Kekoa would’ve had me out of here by now.”
“Really?” He smiled. “Jokesnow?”
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay.” Nic carefully unlatched a canister. Inside was a bottle braced sideways in a fixture with liquid inside. His breathing slowed.This is it. “Jokes are calming.”
Using a USB endoscope and a cell phone, Nic recorded the bottle and discovered wires and a sensor attached to a liquid-lever trigger that would explode if moved too much.
“I meant I’m sorry about driving you to leave the agency. That my impulsive actions cause you to doubt yourself or what you mean to the team.”
Nic’s eyes flickered to Jeremy, who tried to look like he wasn’t at all interested in this confessional. Nic reached for the pickup tool and said another prayer before sliding it into the narrow bottle. Sweat dripped down his back, and his fingers were vibrating with adrenaline. He forced himself to take another breath before continuing. The pickup tool slipped, and the water line moved. Nic froze.
The liquid stilled, and he started breathing again.Come on. Moving the device once more, the prongs were nearly at the sensor...
“I love you, Nicolás.”
A yellow light flickered on the device, and the air in Nic’s lungs whooshed out. Jeremy, with beads of sweat rolling down his brow, pushed back and visibly released his own breath before giving Nic a nod.
Nic stabilized the pickup tool with a piece of foam and ignored the painful ache in his knees when he stood and faced Lyla. “Really? You waited until my hands were literally on the wires of a bomb to tell me you love me?”
“I have impeccable timing.” She breathed out. “Is it over?”
“It’s over.” Nic was glad he was there, because Lyla collapsed into his arms, and through the protective gear, he felt her sobs. He scooped her up and carried her out of the cabin. “I got you, Lyla.”
Nic didn’t know how many hours had passed, but it was enough time for the police, ATF, and FBI to arrive on scene, take statements, snap photographs, and argue over who was going to run the follow-up investigation into Christine León’s double life.
An ambulance had taken her to the hospital with a nonfatal gunshot wound, and the FBI had taken Richard Brooks Vale into custody. Nic was left with a hundred questions, but right now he cared about the answer to only one.
He walked over to where the FBI had set up a mobile unit, and Lyla was sitting in a camping chair with a clipboard and pen in her hand.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
She glanced up. “Are you?”
“Lyla, life is not a competition of wills.”
“I know that.” She signed the bottom of the page and set the clipboard aside. “But if it was, I’d win.”
Nic rolled his eyes. “If you’re done, they said we can leave. Jack called and said the secretary of defense, secretary of state, and national security advisor want a debrief but that we can go in tomorrow.”
“Good, because I’m too exhausted to repeat myself one more time.”
Nic helped her out of the chair. “I was kind of hoping you might repeat some things.”
Lyla’s coy gaze met his under dark lashes. “Like what?”
