Dutch and Bobby were walking carefully on the rims of the drums making their way toward the front of the trailer, shining their flashlights between the drums as they walked.
Tom asked them, 'Is there anything we can do?'
Neither man replied, and I had the sense that even these two were getting a little tense. I didn't want to look at the clock on Kate's cell phone, but I was estimating about two minutes until eternity.
Dutch said, 'Here it is.'
Good news.
'Hard to reach.'
Bad news.
Dutch flattened himself on top of the drums in the far right corner, and Bobby squatted beside him and kept his light trained into the dark space.
Dutch said, 'I see the twelve-volt… but I don't see the timer or the switch.'
Bobby agreed and added, 'They could be anyplace.'
I strongly suggested, 'Take the fucking cable off the battery.'
'Yeah,' Dutch replied, 'that's what I'm trying to do… thanks for the tip… tight in here… this vise grip was made by the lowest bidder… hope there's not a second battery somewhere…'
So Kate, Tom, and I lay there on top of the wall of concrete bags, peering into the dark, waiting for some positive statement from Dutch.
Also, I was trying to remember why I thought I needed to be here. On that subject, I said to Kate, 'Sorry.'
She replied, 'It's okay, John.'
Right. I already saved her life once-so I was allowed one fatal mistake.
Tom was staring at his cell phone and said, very calmly, I thought, 'It is now eight forty-five.'
No one had anything to say about that.
It got very quiet in the trailer, and I could actually hear the metallic sound of Dutch's vise grip trying to loosen the nut on the positive cable lead.
Dutch said, 'Got it.'
Bobby said, 'That's the wrong one.'
They both laughed.
I shut my eyes, and I could hear the bells of nearby St. Paul's Chapel, which chimed every morning at 8:46.
