Emmett made a few calls. They needed every available agent working this case. They were running out of time. Another bomb meant more victims, which would send another wave of hysteria through the city. As it was, people were terrified. How many more bombs would go off? How many more people would be killed?
"Max, a team is on their way here to help you collect all the bomb fragments. Anything you need, you're the boss."
"Thanks."
"Let's go," Emmett told Dylan.
The two of them made their way outside, walking toward his work vehicle. Emmett turned on the lights and sirens as he pulled away from the Silver Bullet. The streets were busy, filled with a flood of people and vehicles, each one intent on leaving. Emmett couldn't blame them. This place had become a warzone. He tightened his hands around the steering wheel, driving aggressively, swerving in and out of traffic.
Emmett had a sick feeling in his stomach, and his guts twisted painfully. Bile rose to his throat, and he had to swallow it back down. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart, but it was practically impossible. His own fears weighed heavily on his shoulders.
Was he a good enough agent? Could they find this guy before there was another bombing?
"It's going to be okay," Dylan told him.
Emmett didn't respond. After a moment, a strong hand touched his shoulder, giving a squeeze. The anxiety he'd been feeling melted away, and warmth instantly filled him, bringing with it a sense of peace.
"We're going to find this guy."
Emmett blew out a heavy breath and managed a jerky nod. He wasn't sure if he believed Dylan, but he might as well start thinking positive. It wouldn't do any good to doubt himself now.
When they reached the mall, emergency vehicles surrounded the place. Putting the vehicle into park, Emmett shut off the ignition. He climbed out of the car and walked toward the chaos as others ran away. He flashed his badge before ducking under the yellow crime scene tape and going straight into the mall.
The building was still standing, and most of the damage seemed to be contained to one area, which meant that it was a small device similar to the one used at the Silver Bullet. The alarms were still blaring, emergency lights flashed, and firefighters escorted victims out of the building. It was a mess, and they weren't any closer to finding the person responsible.
"This doesn't make sense," Dylan said from behind him.
Emmett turned around and faced the FPA agent. "What are you talking about?"
"The bomb was detonated in a store. Why not in the food court?" he asked. "Or even in the hotel down the street? If the bomber wanted to kill a large number of people, he would've set off the bomb somewhere else."
"You don't think enough people were killed?" Emmett asked, barely able to keep the disgust out of his tone. "Is that what you're saying? Not enough innocent people have died today?"
"That's not what I meant." Dylan shook his head, clearly offended. "If this was a suicide bomber, he would've targeted areas with more people. Glenn Yassin has no criminal record. He doesn't have a history of violence. He's a college student. What's his motive? Why would he set off a bomb at the Silver Bullet? Why New Orleans and not D.C.? It just doesn't make any sense to me. The only logical possibility is that the bomber is using other people to carry out his plan, and they might not even know that they're part of it."
"So, you think that these guys don't know that they're carrying bombs around the city?" Emmett asked.
"Yeah." He nodded. "That's exactly what I think."
"You're making a giant leap." Emmett told him. "If you think these guys were carrying the bombs without their knowledge, why wouldn't it make sense that anyone could carry the bombs?"
"Trust me. I've got a lot of experience. Decades of it."
"I don't know."
Emmett wasn't sure if he believed Dylan's theory.
He turned in a slow circle, looking around, as Dylan's words ran through his mind. He inspected the scene, trying to see it from the other agent's point of view. The bombs were concealed inside a backpack. The devices were small. The explosives were detonated in areas that weren't as populated as other places nearby. Was it a possibility? Could Dylan's theory be right?
After a few moments, he nodded. It was a definite possibility.
"Let's say you're right, where does that leave us?"
Dylan's phone started ringing. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out, putting the device against his ear. "What did you find?" There was a long pause before he finally said, "Yeah, okay, thanks."
"What is it?" Emmett questioned as soon as the call ended.
"Axel was able to locate the video feed of a young man entering the store. He was wearing a backpack. His name was Jamall Kabir. No record. No history of violence. He was a college student from D.C. just like our first bomber. When Axel was comparing the videos, he said that both men appeared calm and relaxed. He doesn't think they're suicide bombers."
Maybe Dylan was right after all.
"We need to know more about these men," Emmett said, reciting Dylan's words from earlier. "If Glen and Jamall were carrying around bombs, the device has to be disguised as something innocent." Movement caught his attention, and he looked to the side, watching a few men walked toward them. "Damn it, ATF and Homeland are here."
"Are you really that surprised?"
"I just thought we'd have more time. Now, they're going to take over this investigation."
Emmett didn't have a problem working with others, but he didn't want to be pushed aside. A case like this was a career maker.
"Homeland Security and ATF are going to link these two bombings together. They're going to assume, like most agents, that it's an act of terrorism, but we know it's not. I know it's not. Let them take over. We can run our own investigation and ask the right questions without jumping to the obvious conclusions."
"Why? Even if the men are only carrying the bombs, someone has an agenda and has planted these devices. This is an act of terrorism."
"The FPA is still in charge of the Silver Bullet bombing. I'm not stepping aside. I've got a job to do. I'm following my gut on this one. If you want to join me, the choice is yours."
Emmett studied Dylan for a moment, surprised at the other agent's suggestion but also relieved. He wouldn't have to step aside and abandon the investigation.
"Agent Flowers?"
"Yes." He nodded, turning to face the other agents.
"I'm Agent McKinney with Homeland Security, Anti-terrorism Division." He held up his badge. "And this is Agent Wilkinson with ATF."
"And you're here to take over," Emmett finished.
"Have you seen the news, Agent Flowers? There's been a new development. These attacks are now considered to be an act of terrorism."
Emmett scoffed. "I haven't had the time." He'd been too busy working the case to worry about watching the news.
"You should take a look," Agent McKinney suggested before the two agents walked away.
Emmett pulled his phone from his pocket. He quickly went online to one of the local news stations. Scrolling through the feed, he found a video labeled, Terrorists in New Orleans. He pressed the play button and turned his phone sideways, giving Dylan a clear view of the screen. A man appeared. His face was covered, leaving only his eyes exposed to the camera. He had a thick Arabic accent, making it extremely difficult to understand exactly what he was saying.
"This is a great victory. America has seen one of its own turn against it. This is only the beginning. More American-born martyrs will attack in the days to come across the United States."
* * * *
"Oh God," Emmett muttered. "What if your theory is wrong?"
Dylan took his eyes off the screen and looked at the other man. He could see concern and fear written all over Emmett's expressive face. The video was supposed to be the confirmation they needed that this was a terrorist attack, but the details still didn't make sense.
Why these two college students? Why New Orleans? The young men were both from D.C. Why not attack the capital or a metropolitan area?
With his years of experience as an agent with the FPA, Dylan tended to follow his gut. This situation wasn't adding up. Now that the video was on the news, claiming these attacks were terrorist related, mass panic would be spreading throughout the city. It was a lot scarier to think of homegrown suicide bombers blowing themselves up rather than foreign radicals planting bombs on people.
"Let's get back to FBI headquarters," Dylan said. "I want to see how much progress Max has made with the bomb fragments, and I need to check in with Axel."
Chapter Four