front of the classroom, looking out at her new group of fourth graders. More than halfway through their second week of school, things were beginning to settle down. These were her students for the next nine months. For better or worse, she thought wryly.
“Good morning, everyone,” she greeted her children with a smile. “Please take your seats.”
The twenty-two fourth graders radiated energy but obligingly wiggled into their assigned seats. She checked to make sure none of them were absent, before she turned back to her desk. One glance at her seating chart confirmed that a few of the little rascals had switched spots.
“Ellen and Tanya, please return to your proper seats. Hunter and Brett, I also need you to go back to your assigned seats.”
The four kids gaped in surprise but giggled and shuffled around until they were seated at their correct desks. She decided not to make a big deal out of their prank, at least for now. If they continued to misbehave, she’d have to make them stay after school to have a little chat.
“Today we’re going to start with a math quiz that should be a review from what you learned last year.” She ignored the low moans of protest. “Miles, will you please help me hand out the papers?”
Miles, a short redheaded boy with lots of freckles, jumped up and took half of the stack of quizzes from her hands. She handed out the papers on one side, looking over the rest of the class as he passed a quiz to each student on the other side.
“Olivia, please put your book away. Only pencils and erasers are allowed.” Tess waited until the young girl put her paperback away before glancing up at the clock. “Everyone ready? You may begin.”
Instantly, all the students turned their attention to her impromptu math quiz. Satisfied they were all working diligently, Tess took a seat behind her desk to check out her lesson plan for the rest of the day.
Click.
Tess froze, the tiny hairs on the back of her neck lifting in alarm when she realized her knee had bumped into something hard. Battling a wave of trepidation, she bent sideways to see her knee was pressed up against a small box with lots of wires sticking out from it. The box was somehow attached to the inner side of her desk and there was a tiny red digital display with numbers counting down.
A bomb?
For a moment she simply stared in horror, barely believing what she was seeing. Afraid to move, fearing that releasing the trigger might cause an immediate blast, she glanced out at her students, who were all concentrating intensely on the pop quiz. Watching all those innocent faces, she grimly realized there wasn’t a moment to waste.
“All right, class, we have a change in plans. Turns out we’re going to have a fire drill. I need everyone to line up with their buddy and walk down the hall toward the principal’s office just like we did the first day of school. I want you to go all the way outside. Now!”
The kids looked around in confusion but were more than happy to abandon their math quizzes. She quietly urged her students to hurry, unable to bear the thought of anything happening to them.
“Miss Collins, aren’t you going to come, too?”
Trust Miles to be concerned about her. He was the sweetest child and she was often struck by the resemblance to her brother, Bobby. Although Bobby was a sullen seventeen-year-old now, a far cry from the loving younger brother he used to be.
“Not right now. But, Miles, I want you to tell the principal to come and see me, okay? Now go outside, but walk, don’t run.”
Tess held her breath waiting for the students to follow her instructions, walking out of the classroom and then down the hall. She closed her eyes in relief when the last pupil was out of harm’s way.
Thank You, Lord.
“Tess?” Evelyn Fischer, the elementary school principal, came into the classroom, a concerned frown furrowed on her brow. “What’s going on?”
She swallowed hard and tried to remain calm. “Listen, you need to get every student and teacher out of the building, immediately. Tell them it’s a fire drill. And then I need you to call 911, because I’m afraid I’ve triggered a bomb...and if this timer is correct, we only have thirty minutes until it blows.”
* * *
Declan Shaw set aside his M4 .223 and pulled his ear protectors off with a disgusted sigh. “I’m still only hitting the bull’s-eye at sixty-five percent.”
“Hey, you’re getting better,” his buddy Isaac Morrison pointed out. “The rest of your shots are in the next closest rim. That’s not half-bad.”
“Yeah, I think you’re improving, Deck,” Caleb O’Malley added. “Stop being so rough on yourself.”
“We’re down a sharpshooter,” Declan pointed out. “Which means I need to step up my game.”
“Your game is fine,” Caleb assured him.
Their phones rang simultaneously, and Declan reached for his, knowing this couldn’t be good news. “What’s up?”
“Bomb threat at Greenland Elementary School,” their new boss, Griff Vaughn, said. “Get ready to roll.”
Declan didn’t hesitate but ended the call and shouldered the M4 before leading the way through the training facility to the front of the building housing the sheriff’s department. Isaac and Caleb were close on his heels.
“Probably a false alarm,” Isaac muttered as they quickly donned their protective vests and the rest of their SWAT gear. “Some student pulling a prank to get out of school.”
“Doubtful,” Declan said grimly as he headed out to the armored truck. “Have you forgotten how we’ve had two other very real bombs within the past month, including one at the minimart that injured my sister? I don’t think it’s a bogus call at all.”
“Most likely the same perp who seems to be targeting areas where students hang out—the custard stand, the minimart and now the elementary school. We need to catch this guy, and quick,” Caleb added as he automatically slid into the driver’s seat.
Declan knew that he’d be the lead point person during this tactical situation. He might not rock at being the top sharpshooter on the team, but he was the best when it came to disarming bombs.
Provided they could get there in time.
Declan tucked in his earpiece and flipped the switch on his radio. “Give me the intel,” he ordered.
“We have a box with a trigger and a timer fixed underneath the fourth grade teacher’s desk. She heard a click when she sat down and was smart enough to send the kids outside right away.”
His gut clenched as he realized there was a possible victim close to the device. His sister, Karen, was lucky to only have suffered bruises and a broken arm, when she could easily have died from the force of the blast, just like his teammate. Once again, he couldn’t help wishing he’d been the one called to the scene at the minimart. He wanted to believe his being there might have made a difference.
“Have you swept the school to make sure everyone is out and there are no other explosive devices?”
“Affirmative.
