Flash laid down a foamy spray, carving a path to the door. Once she saw an uninjured Athena with Travis and Samuel opposite a fiery curtain, she breathed again—and coughed.
“I’m coming!” Flash shouted over the muffled noise. She attacked the vicious blaze, heat pummeling her in waves, and smothered the flames that blocked her path. The extinguisher choked out its last puff—too soon to help quell the growing threat.
“Thank God!” Athena’s arms flew around her neck, pulling her tight. Only for an instant. “I was afraid—”
“I’m a little shaky, but OK.” Flash pulled back, assessing the rest of the shop in an instant. It hadn’t just been the office. Fire blazed from a storage room, danced through the waiting area, and shot up the walls surrounding the garage. Smoke billowed through the hole in the roof, which was good—except for the rush of oxygen the conflagration sucked in through it.
“I didn’t trip anything,” Flash declared. “I swear.” Her hands still clung to Athena’s arms, unwilling to let her go.
“I know.” Athena tugged free to turn around and point. “A camera. He used a remote detonator.”
“What happened? The place is lit up like the Fourth of July,” Paulson bellowed into everyone’s earpieces. Flash could barely hear him.
“Check for electronic signals,” Athena called back. “Perp used a remote. He couldn’t just sit here for a week waiting for us to show, so he rigged something.”
“Checking,” Paulson replied. “Most of those need to be in close range.”
“Campbell, Howard,” Athena shouted.
“We’re on it,” Agent Howard replied. “Checking the whole block.”
“He could be inside a building,” Campbell added, “but we’ll sweep the outside first.”
“Keep it to a two-block radius,” Paulson instructed. “To use a radio signal, he couldn’t be farther away than that.”
“I just called 911,” Shoops said, her voice a pitch higher than normal. “The fire department is on the way.”
While they discussed how to find the arsonist, Flash searched for an escape route. She had fully regained her balance, though aches shot through her hip and ribs. They couldn’t go out the way they came in. Flames fueled by the leaves and branches leaped in front of the garage doors. She raced around burning piles, smoke stinging her eyes and lungs, to the back door. Unlocked it. Turned the knob. The outward-opening “emergency exit” door was jammed.
“Hey, Agent Paulson,” she said into her com. “Are you picking up another person around here?”
“Sorry, Cash. The infrared is just all one big red blob at this point, but I think I’ve got a fix on a radio signal. It’s moving north away from your position. Stopped.” Her ears must be opening up, as she could understand everything he said.
A new explosion sounded across the garage bay, perhaps the can Flash had noticed earlier.
“Howard, Campbell, head north,” Athena ordered.
Flash pushed her com button. “I asked because, when I checked the building, nothing was blocking this back door. It was just locked. I unlocked it, and now it won’t budge. I’m getting a crack, just a sliver of light. Asshole blocked it with something.”
“Howard, stay in pursuit,” Campbell said. “Bouvier, I’m heading to you—see if I can unblock that door.”
“Alright. Shoops, get out there and help Howard track this guy down.”
“Lost the signal,” Paulson exhaled into her ear. “It’s gone.”
“What do you mean, ‘gone?’” Flash couldn’t tell if Athena was more confused or infuriated.
“He probably smashed it,” Ice speculated.
As Flash rushed over to join her team, huddled away from the burning piles, a loud creak caught her attention—metal straining. A glance over her shoulder revealed the burnt-out shell of a pickup truck precariously balanced atop a hydraulic lift, where it must have sat for the past five years. A fresh fire blazed beneath it, twisting and stretching its way up the supports, weakening the already compromised steel. She flew the few feet to where Athena and the agents huddled, followed by an eerie-sounding crash. The truck, its once-melted tires smoldering again, plummeted. Metal crunched and clanged onto the cement, spewing a fountain of smoke and sparks.
“Damn!” Travis exclaimed, taking a step in the opposite direction. Glancing up, he added, “When’s the rest of this coming down?”
“Soon,” Flash confirmed, “but we’ll get out first. Our guy set up multiple ignition spots, rigged to go boom by remote. He didn’t use C4 or explosives. Just took advantage of what was here. I was looking for a trip wire, a pressure plate, cans of gasoline, chemical tanks, or propane. They aren’t here.” She pointed toward the front door. “That’s the last exit to check. Others are no-gos.”
“There’s a lot of fire between here and there,” Athena observed. “Campbell should be prying open the back door soon.”
Acrid smoke burned Flash’s nose as she scanned the shop through heat warping the air like a desert mirage. The sweat-soaked T-shirt under her uniform stuck to her body like a second skin.
