of dust rise from where the tower had been. Henley could only smile and say, “What a beautiful sight” and they continued on their way.
Just over a hundred miles away Jamison and his men had completed their task and were on their way back. They only had twenty mile of dirt road and that was very secluded. “It’s just about time. “Pull over and let’s watch the revolution start.” Jamison was the explosive expert with this group and they had done exactly like the others. He dialed the phone and the explosion rocked the truck, they looked back and watched as the spire disintegrate and disappear in the upheaval of dust and dirt earth. Jamison could imagine the others watching the exact same thing.
The same results at the same time. They were all proud of what they had done. Power interruption was going to be extremely inconvenient for many people and have a deadly effect on Washington. “Terrorists in America’s backyard” news casters and papers would bolt across America for that story and blame Washington for not protecting the American people. That was juicy stuff for the IAG.
They all arrived at the little house in Baker within 40 minutes of each other. The beer was cold and flowing wildly and cold sandwiches were great. They just all sat around and laugh and talked. “Can you believe how well that went? I don’t think the FBI or CIA have a hint of what we did or why we did it.” Henley looked at each one, “you know, we should keep a journal for our posterity. They will think we’re hero and we will be remembered as heroes. It would be great for history to know what we did and how we did it. It would be an education for future time. Our stellar deeds will live forever, especially how we pinned this on Islamic terrorists. They would head to their own homes tomorrow but for now let the party roar on.
Jamison and his men frolicked all night, making certain they didn’t attract any noisy people. It was balmy and quiet. After a few hours the beer was running out and the sandwiches gone.
“Let’s get some zz’s, life will be different tomorrow.” He looked around, “where is Juan?”
The blast ripped the quiet shroud of night, deafening and blinding as flames reached for the stars. The sound waves rocked houses five miles away in Baker and the flash of light was visible from Death Valley.
There was nothing left of the house or the humans. They were torn and a strewn mess encompassing a hundred yards or more. It was so bad you couldn’t separate human parts from building rubble and the fire did not help. The F250’s were blown hundreds of feet away, only their shells remained, there had been and explosive device in each one. There were no distinguishing features to tell one truck from another and no way to tell the serial numbers, thus not being able to identify the owners.
When the fire department and police arrive there was little or nothing to see or do. The sheriff was notified and he called in the FBI, just looking at the scene left him in awe. There was no way to fathom what type of explosive had been used let alone how much. There was nothing he could do until the Feds arrived but protect the area. It took all the yellow crime scene tape he had and gathered rope to isolate the area.
It was several hours before the FBI arrived in Baker and the big thermometer showed zero degrees as the desert roasted. It would heat up another ten to twelve degrees by noon. The black Suburban was not the best color to have in the desert but it was typical of the Feds. It wasn’t far for them to travel but they had to take off their coats and ties, even with the air conditioning blustering.
They would have liked to have a nice Bud to travel with but they were on duty and that was a no, no so Coke would have to do and the majority of it was diet.
When they arrived at the shattered remains of the house and bodies the sheriff was there to meet them. “The ME was already sifting through the ruble and separating body parts and building parts into separate stacks, a jigsaw puzzle waiting to be deciphered. He is perplexed by the whole thing.”
“This is Dr. McCaugh.” The Sheriff introduced the ME. He came down from Vegas. We don’t have the means to do this kind of work.”
“This is agents Gillespie, Sanchez, DePorta and I am agent Green.” They all shook hands and greetings. “The FBI has a special interest in this because of everything that has been going on here. Two major power lines were destroyed early this morning with similar explosives and there is reason to believe this is related to home being destroyed in Beaver Dam Arizona. We haven’t got the foggiest idea why but the mechanics are similar.”
Before they could maneuver the conversation further a tan Jeep Cherokee pulled up behind the Suburban. Two men got out, approaching and looking like cowboys, they signaled for Agent Green to meet them before they reached the others.
The four gathered far enough away so they could not be overheard. The two new arrivals showed Green their ID’s and they talked for a while then meandered over to the others.
Green introduced the new comers to the others, “This is Mr. Henry and Mr. Reeves. They were sent as observers and will be with us through the investigation. They are to be included in in all discussions and planning. Does everyone understand?” There was a stunned silence but everyone nodded they understood. “Let’s get going. Gillespie, Sanchez, you work with the ME sorting through this mess. Deporta and I will work with the Sheriff and his men laying out the bounds of the destruction. The foundation is still intact so I would guess the bomb was above ground. That’s the starting grid now let’s get going.” Henry and Reeves each went with a separate group. This was going to be a long drawn out process and they might have to bring in more support.
The sifting was the hard part. Parts of bones and internal organs, those that could be recognized, finger nails, teeth and any other body parts were gathered and placed in plastic bags. They would worry about putting the puzzle together when they got back to Vegas. The stench of burned bodies was shifting through the light breeze. If there was a cemetery in the area, even the dead would have rolled over and covered their faces.
The shattered wood and metal parts were blasted hundreds yards around the explosion zone. It looked like part of Hiroshima after the blast.
Misters Henry and Reeves did not dirty their hands on the hard work. They followed each group and reviewed what had been done and what results were found. Agent Green would moved away periodically with the two unknowns and they would discuss whatever it was they discussed.
Then Green called a meeting of the Sheriff, his other agents and the two outsiders. “This is reminiscent to the house that was destroyed in Arizona. Misters Henry and Reeves confirmed what the ME has indicated. It appears to be a serial bomber. The explosives were laid around the base of the foundation so as to level the building and everything inside along with most everything outside. This is a professional job, but why we have no idea. There is a strong association with those that bombed the power lines. Again, we don’t know why. No demands were made on anyone or anything. If there are any known agents I have no idea what they are. The foot print of the C4 will be analysis at the Quantico, Virginia. They will have us information back in two days. In the mean time we continue the investigations. We need to know who these people where, where there from and what they wanted. All indications are these are terrorists but we have no idea what they were up to or wanted. We need to go to Baker and see if anyone has a recollection of strangers in town and what they did. Sheriff, could a couple of you men go along the adjacent roads and check for any indication of traffic. Sanchez, DePorta go into town and see if anyone remembers seeing new people. Also, would you have a couple of your men hold back the mass of reporters and gawkers?”
“All there is in Baker are Truck drivers and tourists passing through. Everyone is new. How can they know one new from another new?” The Sheriff’s question was valid. How do you tell one ant from another