Maddie drove to the employee parking entrance. Josh’s vehicle had the RFID sensor that raised the bar without her needing to show ID, and she hoped she’d be able to get into the building with the same ease. She should have gone back to his hotel room and grabbed his IDs. But time was of the essence, and she had no idea where she would find Ava in the thirty-floor high-rise.
The GPS signal could pinpoint X and Y coordinates, but Z was anyone’s guess.
She found a parking spot and tapped more buttons on the computer screen, browsing Josh’s uploaded content.
Bless his efficient heart, he’d uploaded the building schematic into Raptor’s system. Now she just needed to know how to use this information. She called Trina’s number again, and Keith answered.
“We’ve got maps of all the floors at Nielsen Tower,” she said without preamble.
“Josh is always thorough. I bet he also looked for ways to exploit the security system from the inside—to find out if the Hoffman brothers still had a way in.”
“You think he created a backdoor?”
“I’d put good money on it.”
“How do I find his backdoor?”
“I’ve already got Mothman combing his files to find it. Are there any headsets in the SUV? It would help if you had one.”
Maddie checked the glove box and came up empty. She scanned the garage very carefully—feeling a shiver knowing that she’d been placed in a trunk only fifty feet away—and climbed from the vehicle.
She opened the back to find a cardboard box with green and blue T-shirts and the metal lockbox in which he kept his Raptor gear. She lifted the cover over the front latch and found a number pad. “What’s the combination for the lockbox?”
“Josh authorized your thumbprint with full access to the SUV. Press your thumb on the reader below the zero.”
She bent down, looking closer in the dark space—the rear dome light was disabled—and saw there was a small shiny black square just below the ten-key pad. She pressed her thumb to it, and the box clicked, releasing the latch.
She opened the box and gasped at the assortment of guns and ammunition. “This stuff is all legal?”
“He’s licensed and trained with all of it, yes. But you’re not, so leave the weaponry alone unless you know how to use it.”
“I’ve got a pistol he showed me how to use.”
“Good. Any headsets in the box?”
“Three, actually.”
“Good. Put it on and sync it to your phone. You’ve got a Raptor phone, so once it syncs, the headset will work separately.”
She donned the headset, and it powered on the moment it was in place, just like her wireless earbuds. A pop-up on her phone screen invited her to pair the device with her phone, and it appeared this was more than Bluetooth sharing with Wi-Fi calling. This was like a mating or a cloning of the devices. The phone then showed which buttons on the left ear were for cellular versus radio, and which on the right were volume, record, and voice text.
“We’ll use sat/cell calling because the team at the rally is on the radio, helping EMS and other first responders.”
“No word?”
“None yet, Maddie. I’m sorry.”
Tears burned. A week ago, she’d heard this man tell Josh he loved him. Keith had to be in as much agony as she was. “I’m sorry too.”
“I haven’t given up hope. You shouldn’t either. Now that the dust has settled, helicopters flying over the bridge show it’s a relatively small section that went down—few marchers were on top because the bulk of the group hadn’t reached that point yet—and from the angle of the collapsed section, there’s a good chance there are pockets created by the I-beams. If Josh was close to the concrete foot, he could be fine.”
“But didn’t the concrete foot crumble?” From above, it had looked like it had buckled.
“Hard to say, but something is holding the beams at an angle.”
Maddie held on to that thought. There were dozens of people who were working to find and save Josh right this moment. She closed the lid of the lockbox and the rear door of the SUV.
She needed to study the building maps and focus on finding Ava.
Josh took a deep breath and immediately regretted it when thick dust coated his lungs. He coughed, making his head throb even more. He needed to get out of here before he suffocated from the dust that filled this tiny air pocket.
He reached back and grabbed the arm of the man—the beam of his flashlight had showed a thick, hairy arm that had to be male—trapped with him and tugged. From the resistance, he guessed a limb was pinned, but he didn’t have time to finesse this and used all his strength to pull harder, bracing his feet on the steel beam for leverage.
Had Nielsen Steel made this beam over a hundred years ago? The thought was an irrelevant tangent and a sign of his fractured focus.
Did Ari have anything to do with the bomb that took down the bridge? Did he have TNT in his jacket? He’d worked in demolition, and he had a grudge against his former employers. He could have stolen explosives from them this morning or even hidden a stockpile before he was arrested.
While White Patriots had been on top of the bridge, the group below had been a mix of the opposing groups. Who was the target of the bombing?
He’d promised the counterprotesters he’d protect them. More had attended this rally than the last because they’d believed he and his trainees would keep them safe.
How many had been under the bridge when it fell? In the moments before the blast, Josh had spotted the small backpack tucked up against the I-beam above, next to the concrete foot. He’d shouted, “BOMB!”
People ran in every direction at his shout. A moment later, the bomb went off. On instinct, Josh dove for the concrete pillar, knowing next to it would be the safest place if the pillar remained vertical. In buildings during big earthquakes or explosions like this, it was advised to tuck up against the backs of couches or under tables. If the furniture wasn’t crushed by the falling ceiling, safe triangular pockets could be created when beams fell across the furniture.
Same concept here, except it was a massive steel beam braced on a crumbling concrete foot.
It had happened so fast, there hadn’t been time for Josh to clear out from under the bridge, but others, those on the edges, had made it out, he was sure of it. He’d done that much right, at least.
But this guy next to him hadn’t made it, and they would both die here together if they didn’t escape from beneath the crumbling structure. Josh carefully rolled to his back in the confined space for better leverage. He braced his feet on the beam again and pushed off, digging in his heels as he tugged on the man’s hand, to pull him out from whatever was pinning him down. It was this or death. Josh’s muscles strained, and he feared for the man’s limbs, but he reminded himself that if they’d been crushed, the damage was already done. The debris that had the guy pinned gave way, and the deadweight inched forward as Josh pulled and wriggled through the first opening he’d created in the rubble.
His ears pulsed with the pressure caused by the blast, giving his breathing a tympanic ring. Remembering his headset, he reached for it around his neck or on his head. Even though he couldn’t hear well, he could use it to call or radio. Let someone know he was alive and stuck.
His headset was gone, likely knocked off by whatever had injured his eye, and, from the feel of things, that whole side of his head. That he hadn’t noticed pain from the cuts was due to adrenaline mixed with other, bigger, masking pain. Now he noticed smaller aches all along his limbs and back. He’d been pelted by debris, and who knew what else had been damaged given that he’d lost consciousness for a few moments. Or longer.
How many minutes had it been since the blast? Fifteen? Twenty? Surely it couldn’t be more than that?
He shoved at another concrete boulder that blocked his way, this one bigger than the last. It didn’t budge. This time, he pictured Maddie. The way she’d looked that first time he saw her face—the moment after he’d kissed her in his pretend-boyfriend role. She’d looked like a model from the sixties with her clear, smooth skin and hair pulled back with a headband, curling under at the ends. Her eyes had lit with reaction to the casual kiss, and she’d looked so damn adorable. Warm. She’d brightened the dank crypt with her light, and all his protective instincts had risen to the surface. He’d wanted nothing more than to go after the prick who’d freaked her out so much, she’d been compelled to call for help.
From there, his mind went to last night, when he’d told her he loved her, and again, she’d lit up the room with her smile. But that time, her hair had been tousled by his fingers, her lips swollen from his kisses. Her bare chest pressed to his.
He’d followed up his declaration by making love to her again, and he’d kept his eyes open until the last second so he could see every expression on her face as he made her come.
She was everything he’d ever wanted. And he could have her, if he could just get this motherfucking concrete boulder out of his damn way.
He shoved again, and this time, it moved. Two inches at best, but maybe that was all he needed, because now daylight shone through the hole he’d created. He called out, reaching his hand through the narrow gap, into the afternoon sun.
A hand gripped his. Thick fingers, dark skin. The hand of a bodybuilder. Hope surged in Josh’s chest. If anyone could move that damn boulder, it was Arthur Bond.