I lean him and the driver up against the car and pat them down like my life depends on it. Then I apologize, and let the driver get back in his car. The kid and I climb in the back seat. I tell him to show me his bomb, and explain how it works. It’s dark, so I flip on my pen light and train it on the floor. There’s just enough glow to see what he’s holding. As I instructed, he’s placed the bomb in a soft drink cup that has a plastic lid on it, and a straw sticking out. The straw holds the antenna for the receiver. He hands me the detonator, which is the size of a garage door opener, and has two buttons.
“What’s the second button for?”
“Press either one. They both work.”
“Why have two?”
He shrugs. “It’s my garage door opener. It came that way.”
Now I’m starting to get a little nervous.
“What’s the range for detonating it?”
“Sixty yards.”
“The trash can is metal.”
“So?”
“Want to change your range estimate?”
“Nope.”
“That’s a pretty bold statement,” I say, “for someone who hasn’t seen the trash can yet. What are you basing the distance on?”
“Educated guess.”
“A guess,” I repeat.
“Yes sir.”
“And have you tested the range before?”
“Of course.”
“In a metal trash can?”
“No.”
“So you don’t even know if it will detonate.”
“Oh, it’ll detonate, all right!” he says, enthusiastically.
I may have doubted the kid at first. But now I believe him. I like a guy who loves his work.
“And the bomb is safe?” I say.
“Define safe.”
“Big bang, no injuries.”
“Where’s the opening on the can?”
“There’s a round hole on the top, maybe a foot in diameter.”
“When you detonate it, make sure no one’s leaning over the top.”
“Because?”
“The explosion’s going to shoot up about ten feet.”
“But nothing through the sides?”
“No. It’s a noise bomb. And smoke. I assumed you wanted smoke.”
“Smoke is good.”
“If there’s paper in the trash can, it’ll ignite.”
“They can deal with that later.”
I put the garage door detonator in my pocket and say, “Show me the gun and silencer.”
He opens the duffel enough so I can look inside. I reach in and heft it.
Feels right.
I use my pocket knife to cut a hole in the duffel bag large enough to accommodate the barrel of the silencer. Then push the barrel through the hole about an inch, and cover that part of the duffel with my jacket. I keep the top of the duffel unzipped, so I can reach in and shoot when the time comes, without having to brandish the gun.
“Ready?” I say.
“Can’t wait to get out of here,” he says.
I hand the kid his soft drink bomb and say, “Pretend to sip from the straw while we walk through baggage handling. When we get to the steps, you take the lead. Walk through the door at the top of the steps, go thirty yards to the trash can. Stand there a few seconds, pretend to take one last sip, then drop it in the trash. Don’t make eye contact with anyone. After dumping the container, you’re free to go out the front door, catch a cab, and go wherever you like. If the bomb works I’ll send you some serious cash as a token of my appreciation. Any questions?”
