Well, there was one last thing he could do. Taking a hand off the wheel, he felt in his pocket for the remote detonator.
“He’s spotted us!” Leonard hissed, grabbing for the radio. “Who’s the moron in the lead car? Back the fuck off!”
But it was clearly too late. Kelly watched the truck leap ahead. They were on the outskirts of San Diego, clusters of housing developments surrounding them. Thousands of people asleep in their beds, completely unaware of the danger.
“We have to stop him,” she said.
“No kidding. Any suggestions?”
“Get him on the CB radio.” She looked over at Leonard. “The truck must have one, right? Figure out what channel he’s on, see if a negotiator can talk him down. Make sure they know his name.”
Leonard barked the command into their radio. A minute later they heard the rustle of static, then a hostage negotiator hailing Dante. On the third attempt, a gravelly voice responded. “Yeah?”
“Dante Parrish, this is Agent Bennett with the FBI. Come to a stop and get out of the truck with your hands raised. You have my guarantee that no harm will come to you.”
A pause, then they heard a low chuckle. “I think we’re way past harm, buddy.”
“Tell Dante that Burke gave him up,” Kelly said.
Leonard shrugged, then conveyed the information on their private channel.
Another long pause before Dante retorted, “He wouldn’t do that.”
“How do you think we found you, Dante? He set you up to take the fall.”
“I’m doing this for the good of the country,” Dante replied.
Kelly grabbed the receiver over Leonard’s protests. “A true patriot wouldn’t kill innocent Americans, Dante. No one is going to blame the illegals now. They’ll know it was you.”
They were less than five miles from the border. The truck slowed.
“You know what’s crazy?” Dante said meditatively. “My brother works a farm in Washington State. You know the government can track every cow from where they were born in B.C., all the way to the pen they’re in now? But you can’t find eleven million immigrants. Explain that to me.”
On the other channel the hostage negotiator said, “He seems to be responding to her, so keep going. Try to keep him calm, use his name a lot. Make him understand he’d be killing real people.”
“Us among them,” Leonard muttered.
“It’s a broken system, Dante,” Kelly said. “No one’s saying it isn’t. But this isn’t the way to fix it.”
The truck ahead had slowed nearly to a stop. The nearest car paused a few hundred feet away. Kelly and Leonard were fifth in line.
“Do we pull back?” another voice asked over their channel.
“Hold for now,” Leonard said, picking up the receiver. “We’re at a safe standoff distance if the bomb is the same size as Phoenix.”
“But if it blows…” Kelly said worriedly.
“I said hold. Keep going, Jones.”
Kelly took a deep breath, thinking through what she was going to say. “We don’t want another Phoenix here, Dante. A lot of people died there today, a lot of women and children.”
“You don’t understand.” It was hard to tell if he was angry or despondent.
“Make me understand.”
“They bring in drugs, and get kids hooked. They take our jobs. Pretty soon they’ll be running the country. And no one’s doing anything about it.”
Odd talk for an ex-con, Kelly thought. Dante Parrish was hardly a paragon of American family values. Burke must be extraordinarily convincing. “But, Dante, don’t you see this will only make them stronger? You’ll be the bad guy.”
“Careful,” the negotiator cautioned on the other line. “That might set him off.”
“I’m not the bad guy. Not anymore,” Dante said defiantly.
“I’m not saying you are, but…”
Suddenly the door to the cab swung open and Dante appeared, hands raised above his head.
“Does anyone have a bead on him?” Leonard asked. “Tell me his hands are empty.”
“Negative. He’s got something, just can’t see what it is,” another agent chimed in.
“All right, initiate the jamming.” He glanced at Kelly. “We’re probably going to lose radio contact.”
“Why?”
“Chances are he’ll try to remote detonate. We’re jamming all signals to block that.”
“I didn’t know you could do that,” Kelly said, watching Dante fumble with something. He glanced back at the truck, puzzled.
“New technology, developed to combat IEDs in Iraq. Not foolproof, but we’re up to a seventy percent success rate.”
“Seventy is still pretty risky,” Kelly said dubiously.
“That’s why we wanted the truck out of city limits. But it looks like it’s working,” Leonard said. “Should we go round up our boy?”
Leonard opened his car door and drew his weapon. Kelly secured her vest before following. Within a minute a dozen agents were approaching the truck. Fifty feet away they fanned out in a semicircle.
Dante had his back to the truck, arms out as if surrendering. Kelly saw something in his hand, probably the detonator. Despite Leonard’s assurances about the jamming, her breath was shallow and her skin buzzed with fear. She pictured the haze over Phoenix and imagined a mushroom cloud blooming around them. Her gun shook slightly, and she inhaled deeply to try and regain some calm.
“Dante Parrish, drop it and get on your knees,” Leonard ordered.
Twenty feet away now. Dante appeared strangely calm, the corner of his lip turned up in a sneer. Another five feet, and Kelly realized he was saying something. She strained her ears, listening. He’d slipped into a low murmur. She caught the phrase, I thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul…
It took her a minute to place it. When she did, her eyes widened and she froze.
Leonard turned to her, puzzled. “What’s he saying?”
“Take cover!” Kelly yelled, trotting backward, keeping her gun level. A single headlight illuminated Dante, arms raised to the heavens as if preaching, head tilted skyward. Leonard stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. The rest of the agents were within ten feet of Dante, too close. “He’s reciting ‘Invictus’!”
“What?” Leonard asked.
“Get everyone back!” Kelly yelled. “Move!”
Something dropped from Dante’s hand.
Kelly spun, prepared to sprint. A surge of adrenaline shot through her veins, but it felt as if she were moving through molasses. Suddenly, a flash from behind set everything in stark relief, cars reflecting the glare. She was lifted off her feet as if a giant hand had swept her up. Her arms and legs pinwheeled as she flew. There was a clap so loud she felt it in her bones, her head throbbed from the concussion.
A roar, as if an entire ocean was crashing down on her, and Kelly was whirled away.
Thirty-Nine
“Did it blow?” Rodriguez asked.
“The flash didn’t look that big,” George commented.
Jake didn’t say anything. He was no expert, but George was right; the blast they’d witnessed was nothing compared to the Phoenix footage captured by a police chopper. That shock wave had knocked the helicopter out of the sky.
George got on the radio. “This is Agent Fong. What happened?”
They waited tensely for a response. A minute later someone said, “All good here. We’ve got two bad guys,
