Page 18 of Wrecked
“Fly them out?” Hawk asked.
“And drop ‘em over the ocean,” Addison replied.
“I found it,” Hawk blurted.
Addison stared at the screen, but she couldn’t read code.
After a few seconds, Hawk growled. “Addison’s right. One is set to detonate in twelve minutes, the second fifteen seconds after that.”
“He’s pure evil,” Addison bit out. “If we push hard, we can find those bags in time.”
Hawk and Addison ran out of the room, toward the exit sign. They flew down the stairs and out the front door. On the sidewalk, Hawk pulled Addison to a stop.
“You got this,” he said.
“Wegot this,” she replied before she bolted toward the beach.
The sidewalks were crowded with vacationers. The streets were clogged with traffic. Hawk hurried around families, couples, groups of partiers as he dodged strollers, even leashed dogs.
Down the street he ran until he got to the intersection. Not bothering to wait for the light to change, he jogged across the busy street. The traffic was moving so slowly, he made it across in seconds, then bolted inside the Pamplona, through the busy lobby, and over to the stairs.
Beads of sweat trickled down his temples, his back was soaked with perspiration. He wiped his forehead, yanked open the door, and almost crashed into a couple making out in the stairwell.
He jumped around them and climbed the stairs two at a time. By the time he got to the top floor, his thighs burned. Pain only fueled him to go faster. He jogged to the maintenance-only door and turned the handle. Locked.
Dammit.
Since Hawk didn’t have his lock pick set with him, he pulled out his Glock, aimed at the door and fired—POP!—just as a family with two young children loomed into view.
Fuck.
He yanked open the door, ran the stairs, and hurried onto the roof. After jumping into his helo, he flipped on switches, the engine roared to life. Seconds later, he lifted off the ground. He’d already used up six precious minutes.
If Addison and Coop didn’t find those bags in the next five—he shoved that thought out as he flew the helo toward the music venue.
Time wasn’t on their side, but Hawk had every confidence they’d find those backpacks.
* * *
Addison ran onto the beach. “Cooper, where are you?”
“I just got off the phone with my contact at the Bureau,” Cooper replied. “I’m near the stage, but I haven’t found anything.”
“I’m heading into the crowd,” she said.
“Look for a light pole,” Hawk said through the comm. “The backpacks are black, but they were lit up.”
“Where are you?” Cooper asked.
“Look up,” Hawk replied as he zoomed over the crowd.
Even though the beach was thick with concertgoers, the wind gusts from the propellers sprayed sand in every direction.
“Fly out over the water,” Addison said. “You’re kicking up sand.”
“Spotlight’s not helping?” Hawk asked.
“Not if I can’t open my eyes,” she replied.
