He carefully helped Kelsey up; then, with one arm around her for support, he quickly walked her toward a side entry. She gained confidence with each step, easily keeping up with his increased pace by the time they reached the lawn in front of Nieuwland Hall.
A pall of smoke billowed out of a series of windows on the second floor where Sandstrom’s lab had been.
‘Oh my God,’ Kelsey cried, sickened by the thought of the two men trapped in the blaze.
A parade of flashing red and blue lights raced down Cavanaugh Road as a convoy of emergency vehicles from the Notre Dame campus police and the South Bend Fire Department converged on the burning science building.
By the time Nolan and Kelsey ran around the building to the loading dock, police officers were starting to secure the area and firefighters were pouring out of their yellow rigs.
‘Hey, stay back!’ a cop shouted as they approached.
‘We were inside when it happened, Officer,’ Nolan announced, ignoring the request. ‘The fire’s in a lab on the second floor. Two people may still be up there; they were unconscious before the blast.’
‘Keep your hands where I can see them,’ the cop demanded sternly when he spotted the combat knife strapped to Nolan’s leg and the shoulder holster tucked under his armpit.
Nolan understood immediately and slowly placed his hands behind his head.
The cop, a fifteen-year veteran of the force, eyed the pair warily. Both were disheveled, and the bloodstained man looked as though he had been to hell and back. The cop reached out and plucked the Glock from Nolan’s holster.
‘There’s another one in my waistband,’ Nolan offered, twisting his torso to offer a partial view of his back.
The cop’s demeanor eased slightly at this show of good faith. He quickly confiscated the second pistol as well as Nolan’s knife.
‘Military issue,’ the cop commented as he eyed the black-handled blade. ‘Looks a little bloody. Anything else?’
‘Nothing other than a spare clip in my pocket.’
‘You can put ’em down.’ The cop checked the safeties on the pistols and signaled for the fire chief.
A stocky man encased in the bulky protective fire gear jogged over from the pumper truck.
‘Yeah, whatcha want?’ the firefighter asked.
‘Tell him what you told me,’ the cop ordered. ‘Then you and I are going to have a chat.’
‘The lab’s up on the second floor, far end of the corridor. There are two people still inside. They didn’t get out before the blast. We haven’t seen anyone else in the building all day.’
The chief nodded, then jogged away, calling several members of his crew over to map out a plan of attack.
‘Interesting artillery you got here. Now, take a walk with me,’ the cop commanded.
They headed over to a police cruiser parked on the grass. The cop tossed the confiscated weapons in his trunk and closed the lid. He then led them over to the paramedic truck.
‘What’s up?’ the paramedic asked.
‘Leg wound,’ the cop replied. ‘Take a look while I have a talk with these nice people.’
The paramedic carefully peeled off Nolan’s field dressing. ‘Jesus, we got us a gunshot wound. Clean through, all meat. I can clean ya up, but you’ll want this looked at in the ER.’
‘I just know there’s an interesting story about how you acquired that,’ the cop said, eyeing the hole in Nolan’s thigh. ‘Let’s start with your names.’
Nolan and Kelsey identified themselves and explained the reason for their presence on campus. The cop jotted down shorthand notes in a pocket pad as the story unfolded. An incredulous look swept over the cop’s face when Nolan calmly described killing three men. For Nolan, this was no different from the postmission debriefs from his SEAL days.
‘-and when we heard the sirens, we came over to tell you about Sandstrom and Paramo,’ Nolan concluded.
‘Officer,’ Kelsey added, ‘these men, whoever they were, have stolen valuable laboratory equipment and over a decade’s worth of irreplaceable research.’
‘Professor Newton, I’ll put the word out on the truck and the Blazer. Maybe we’ll get lucky.’
The cop turned and made a beeline for the elevated dock, all the while issuing a barrage of requests into the radio mike clipped to his left shoulder. At the dock, he found the bloodstains and put the call in for Homicide and Forensics.
As the paramedic finished treating Nolan’s leg, two teams of firefighters covered with soot rushed out of the building. Each team carried the supine form of one of the injured physicists strapped to a bright red backboard.
The paramedics and newly arrived EMTs met the firefighters halfway and started work on their patients as the backboards hit the gurneys.
‘I got a pulse,’ one shouted. ‘Weak, but there.’
From where they stood, Nolan and Kelsey saw that the burns were serious. Charred flesh, a blend of oozing red and black, covered the entire right side of Ted Sandstrom’s body.
‘This one’s dead,’ an EMT working on Paramo announced clinically.
‘Oh God,’ Kelsey sobbed as she turned and pressed herself into Nolan’s chest, his arms holding her. ‘That dear, sweet’ – her voice cracked with emotion – ‘old man.’
10
South Bend, Indiana
After Nolan and Kelsey received treatment for their injuries, the Notre Dame campus police transported them back to Nieuwland Hall. The blaze that had engulfed Sandstrom’s lab was now extinguished, and the exhausted fire crews were slowly stowing their gear. A ribbon of yellow tape surrounded the damaged building, declaring it off- limits while the authorities investigated the incident. Nolan saw a team of forensic technicians photographing the crime scene and gathering evidence around the loading dock.
When the police car reached the cordoned-off area, a man and a woman walked over to meet the vehicle. Over their suits, both wore dark blue windbreakers stenciled with the letters FBI.
‘Mr Kilkenny, I’m Special Agent Harris,’ the woman announced. ‘This is my partner, Special Agent Young. We’d like to have a word with you and Ms Newton.’
‘Of course,’ Nolan replied.
‘Can you tell us exactly what happened?’
Nolan launched into the chronology of events, starting when he and Kelsey had arrived in South Bend the previous evening. The agents waited until the end of his narrative before asking questions for clarification on various points of the attack and details regarding Sandstrom’s research on quantum energy cells.
‘Bottom line,’ Nolan said, ‘the men who did this were well trained, possibly former Russian Special Forces.’
‘Do you have any idea who might be responsible for this attack?’
‘No.’
‘Sandstrom and Paramo’s research was very cutting-edge stuff,’ Kelsey offered, ‘and in recent years they didn’t publish much of what they were working on.’
‘And the device, this quantum energy cell, how many people knew about that?’
Nolan thought for a moment. ‘Outside of the boards of MARC and ND-ARC and the regents of their respective universities, I can’t think of anyone who knew about the cell or our plans to develop it commercially.’
‘Can you provide a list of those who did know about it?’
‘Certainly, as soon as we get back to Ann Arbor, I can fax you the contact information. I’d be very surprised if
