Don't Get Angry

Donovan packed and left for Dublin Airport.  He flew to Heathrow and made connections to Reagan Airport into DC.

Frank had left his car in long term storage and so he had to get on the bus to his car’s location.  Stepping off the bus, he waited until the door closed and the bus moved on.  Once it was out of sight, he got on his knees and looked under the car for any evidence of a bomb.  Sure enough.  There it was.

Donavan reached for his cell phone and called airport security, identified himself and told them to notify the bomb squad.  This was going to take most of the night.  When the bomb squad arrived, he told the Lieutenant in charge that he was going on home, and to call him in the morning and let him know where they had stored his car.

Almost as an aside, he warned the Lieutenant that the people who had done this were known to place a decoy that could be readily found and then have a second bomb well hidden, planted to go off when the car moved, or when  the motor was turned on.

“Thanks agent, we know our business, but thanks anyway.”  said the Lieutenant wryly.  The police were now in the process of removing other cars in the vicinity.

“Charlie,”  he called to one of the patrolmen standing around.  “Take Mr. Donovan over to the airport car rental.”

“Thanks, Lieutenant.”

Donovan was exhausted and didn’t want to argue with the man.  He said to himself, “They know their business.”

Just as the patrolman stopped to drop Donovan in front of the Car Rental Office, there was a big bang!  It was in the parking area they had just left.

“Let’s go Charlie,”  Frank shouted,  “I want to get back to the explosion.”

The Lieutenant had addressed Frank as Mr. Donovan, so the patrolman tried to argue.  Frank shoved his shield in front of the patrolman’s face and shouted,  “Get rolling!”

They arrived on the scene and found the Lieutenant, standing dazed, being treated for minor cuts and abrasions. “There was a third bomb” he whispered.  There was debris everywhere you looked.  A number of cars in the area had broken glass and pieces of metal had become projectiles.

“Anyone hurt?”

“One of my men was blown sky high.  That car was a virtual  bomb.”

“I am truly sorry Lieutenant.  Let’s hope we find the bastards who did this.”

The area was getting crowded with news people, TV cameras, additional patrol cars and an ambulance was parked next to the body lying on the ground.

“The coroner’s wagon is on its way.”

Frank looked up.

“Welcome home, Frank. Your usual reception committee?”  It was Special Agent Jack Smith, now his boss and once his former protégé.  The man, who, knew all the answers.