Another group of Squads was soon there. Perkins had his men working for hours in the five-story building, long after night closed over the city. They found three more bombs, located as to bring the whole place down if they went off simultaneously.
To make it up for her former obedience, as soon as Brock got distracted by Cooper's call, Gillian went back into the building and headed alone to Wood's apartment, dodging the Squads who were canvassing the place yet again.
She still had Wood's last threat going around her head, 'hope is a bad supper'. She couldn't put her finger on it, it was just one of those persistent gut feelings of hers, but she couldn't bring herself to believe the threat was talking about what had just happened there. It didn't make sense. When Wood paid the boy to send the email, he couldn't know they'd find him by nightfall. So his last threat had to be about something else. And she hoped to find some sort of clue or lead in Wood's apartment. Searching it with Brock would've been way faster and more effective, but she wasn't about to give in to him again by requesting his presence upstairs—only to get his disapproving scowl and some cold scold along the line with, "we have to wait for the Bomb Squad to clear the building before going back in."
The winter stars shimmered in the cold night when Perkins approached Russell, Aldana, Fred and Hank, who talked by their cars.
"It's clear," Perkins announced, removing his helmet with an exhausted sigh. "We've searched twice the whole building and there's no trace of any more devices."
"Thanks, Perkins," said Hank, as the man waved goodbye at them and headed to the truck.
Brock was still on the phone with Cooper. He disconnected and joined them back.
"We're good to go, Brock," Russell said to him.
He nodded, glancing around, and scowled. "Where's Gillian?"
"She wanted to take a look at Wood's apartment," replied Fred.
"She went in before they cleared it?" Brock asked, annoyed.
Aldana called her over the radio.
Gillian was in the bedroom, inspecting some schematics Wood had drawn in a notebook left on his nightstand.
"You go, lads. I'm staying a while longer," she replied.
She frowned, taking a closer look at the schematics under her flashlight. She knew very little about explosives, but if she was reading it right, she was looking at a dozen models of assorted remote detonators. Damned Wood, he was a genius. Why did he have to go dark side?
When Aldana repeated her words to the others, they traded a hesitating look, not fond of leaving her there all by herself.
"I'll get her," said Brock, and headed to the building.
Hank frowned. "Are we missing something here?"
Fred narrowed his eyes. "He was driving her car."
The others faced him in shock.
"What?"
"You gotta be kidding!"
"No way!"
"Her arm's wounded," argued Aldana.
"Like it would keep Reg from her own wheel," replied Hank.
Then they noticed Russell's little smile and turned to him.
"You. Speak. Now."
"Can we discuss it in the car? I'm freezing out here."
"Oh, you think they're taking a while to come out?"
Russell scoffed, opening his car. "Only if they linger searching the place, or Reg starts asking him questions about profiling," he said, and laughed at their scowls.
"He's right," Hank agreed, after considering it for a moment. "Reg and Brockner? C'mon!"
His words seemed to conjure an image that caused them a chill and they all shook their heads, trying to erase it from their minds.
They were about to get into Fred's car when the ground trembled and an explosion from the fourth floor threw them down to the ground, under a heavy rain of glass splinters and debris.
.
.
Keep reading on the next episode: BLACKBIRD 9 - the rubble