href="#u903692f7-e821-5fe7-b07d-59306bb2e2de">Extract
“Capitol K-9 Unit Five, safety check at Washington Monument complete,” Isaac Black radioed via the com-link he wore. “DC police are also on scene for crowd control.”
“Copy,” echoed back into his earpiece. “Stand by.”
Isaac turned his attention to Detective David Delvecchio of the DC Metro squad and smiled. “You look like something’s bugging you. What’s the matter?”
“I’m just not fond of congressmen who throw their weight around and cause unnecessary overtime.” He eyed the gaggle of news vans and cameramen surrounding Harland Jeffries. “If he wants to grandstand he should do it on his own turf.”
“And preferably during office hours,” Isaac added. He glanced down at Abby, his brown-and-white bomb-detecting beagle. She had stretched out on the grassy verge skirting the Washington Monument, panting and cooling off after the excitement of doing her job. “At least one of us is happy to be working tonight.”
“Yeah. I’m sure glad we have you and the rest of the K-9 team on call. My men didn’t have time to do a proper sweep of this area. By the time we got the word about the congressman’s impromptu press conference, we only had an hour to deploy.”
Isaac nodded. “Not to worry. If Abby says there’s no bomb on the grounds, it’s safe. You can trust her.”
“I do,” Delvecchio replied.
Curious tourists were gathering outside the police line, milling around and straining to get a peek at whoever was the center of attention. Politicians and their aides in dark business suits stood out against the colorful garb of the bystanders as Secret Service agents would have at a three-ring circus performance.
Isaac was about to withdraw to his SUV and wait to be released when he noticed his dog stiffen and ease to her feet. Since he had not given the command, her independent actions drew his attention.
“Abby?” He crouched, following the beagle’s line of sight. She was clearly focused on the small group nearest to the congressman. “What is it, girl?”
Instead of relaxing, the dog froze in place, her hackles bristling. Her nose quivered. Her tail was half-raised and still. If they had not just completed a search of the premises Isaac would think...
He stood and grabbed the detective’s sleeve. “Pull everybody back. Clear the area. Now!” Isaac’s commanding tone left no doubt of his seriousness.
“Why? What do you see?”
“Nothing,” Isaac said. “But Abby senses something’s wrong and that’s good enough for me.”
Delvecchio was already shouting into his radio. Patrol officers immediately began to shoo bystanders farther away from the monument.
Isaac moved forward with Abby. “Seek it, girl. Seek it.”
They didn’t have far to go. The little beagle cut straight across the inner circle, zeroed in on a briefcase leaning against the base of one of the concrete benches that ringed the obelisk and plunked down into a sit.
“I have a suspicious object on the west side, at about two o’clock from the police staging area,” Isaac reported via the com-link.
His new orders followed in moments. “Secure the area and pull back to a safe distance. Bomb squad is on its way.”
“Copy.”
He scooped up his dog, checked to make sure no one else remained nearby and would be in danger, then began to jog away.
As he ran, time seemed to slow unnaturally. His feet weighed a ton, making him feel as if he were slogging through cold molasses.
Tension grew with every step, pressing against him and making his heart pound.
Abby was trembling as though she sensed impending doom.
Suddenly, a concussion rocked the atmosphere. Isaac saw the flash through his closed eyelids an instant before he heard the blast.
Instinct made him hunch over his dog’s body to protect her as he was knocked to his knees by the force of the explosion.
Most of the debris it created fell like fistfuls of tossed pebbles, but a few chunks of concrete were heavy enough, large and jagged enough, to do damage.
One piece grazed his shoulder. Another hit the back of his lower leg. Both stunned him rather than caused immediate pain.
How could this have happened? Abby is never wrong.
Which meant that the bomb had to have been placed there after he and the dog had made their rounds. That fact should narrow the list of suspects considerably.
Propping himself on one elbow with the other arm gripping his wiggling partner, Isaac tried to blink the grit from his watering eyes. Gray, cloudy residue filled the air. People coughed and wheezed. Many were in full flight while a few others had paused with cell phones to take macabre pictures of the chaos.
Isaac rolled into a sitting position and brushed himself off. He first checked to make sure Abby was all right, then peered back toward the source of the blast to check for casualties.
“Please, God,” he prayed, “let my warning have been in time.”
He rubbed his smarting eyes on the sleeve of his uniform jacket. It looked as if there were some injuries but the apparent victims were all on their feet. A few were reeling and being assisted by police and friends. Others appeared merely stunned. A cacophony of horns and sirens filled the night.
Ears ringing, head spinning, Isaac knew what he must do. There was no time to waste. Where there was one bomb there could easily be another. And another.
He wanted to lie back on the cool grass, close his eyes and wait for full recovery of his senses, but that was not how he and his fellow K-9 officers operated. The public came first. He’d tend his wounds later. As long as Abby was all right, they’d keep doing their job.
Isaac tightened up on the leash, struggled to his feet and took a step forward. His calf muscles knotted.
Intense pain radiated from his boot to his hip and dropped him where he stood.
* * *
The flow of patients through the ER at DC General Hospital had been surprisingly sparse for a balmy spring evening. Daniella Dunne stifled a yawn and smiled at a fellow RN who was also battling to stay alert.
“Every time we have a slow night I wonder why I like this shift so much,” Daniella remarked.
“Because you crave adrenaline just like the rest of us,” the older woman replied. “When this place starts to really hop we all feel a lot more alive.”
“I suppose you’re
