Free Pestilence (Jack Randall #2) by Randall Wood Page B

chuckled as she translated.
    “He wants to know how your white skin keeps the rain out.”
    “Tell him I don’t know. It does it just like his.”
    The nurse translated for the boy before shooing him away. The boy retreated, but not before giving Larry a grin as he disappeared around the corner.
    Larry’s grin was replaced by a look of determination when he saw Jack approaching. He noted the bandage on Jack’s arm as well as on a few others. Larry hadn’t been allowed to donate due to all his new vaccines.
    “We’re done here, time to get to the site before we lose what’s left of the daylight,” Jack declared. “Back on the buses. We’re meeting Greg and Bradford at the embassy.”
    “Okay,” was all Larry could say. He rose and followed. He spotted his new friend and offered a wave of good-bye. He got one in return.
    “Making new friends, Larry?” Sydney asked.
    “Yeah, I can always use some more,” he replied.
    •      •      •
    The pictures they had seen on the plane did little to prepare them for the real thing.
    The six-story structure still stood, but any resemblance to its former self was gone. The entire front of the building lay open and naked to all viewers like the bare thigh of a murder victim lying in the street. The blast of the truck bomb had exposed every facet of the structure. Wires dangled from ceilings and walls, pipes that once brought water and took away waste stuck out at odd angles from every floor. Papers still fluttered in the breeze and people were attempting to gather them. Tar paper that once coated the roof now hung down like a torn sheet as if the building were attempting to hide its shame from those below. Everywhere they looked the living crawled over and around the building’s remains, looking for the dead. Three people were unaccounted for, and the search would go on until they were. The city’s fire trucks used their ladders, not to go up into the building, but to provide a safe passage across the rubble into the first and second floors. Everyone wore a mask over their mouths, all streaked with dirt and sweat. Ambulance crews stood by waiting, but the look on their faces was one of dejection as the chances of finding anyone alive at this point were nil. The crater left by the truck was surrounded by paths on both sides, cleared first by dogs, and then bulldozers, to provide access to the building.
    Eric watched as one tired dog sat panting in the sun while his handler changed the leather booties the dog wore. The dog lifted his paws obediently to help and when all four were changed the handler removed the dog’s mask, allowing him to drink from a collapsible bowl of water before they returned to the pile.
    He detached himself from Larry and Sydney to join Jack, Greg and Bradford at the side of the crater. He was surprised to see that it was half full of water.
    “I’m estimating that truck was maybe three-quarters full, maybe more. Definitely had some diesel included. Crude, but it gets the desired effect. We’ll have to pump out that water soon as we can,” Bradford commented.
    “Okay, I’ll get someone on that. What are you looking for?” Jack asked.
    “Anything. Trucks are full of parts with serial numbers. We just need one and we can track it. Probably stolen, but we have to start somewhere,” he answered. “Best thing would be part of the detonator. Most bombers don’t realize that their fingerprints will survive the explosion. We’ll get a few, try to track ’em down.”
    “That’s Sydney’s department. Just give her what you find and she’ll do the rest,” Jack stated. He looked up from the crater and noticed Eric had joined them. “Eric, I need you to do a repeat of what you did in Vegas. I know it’s a bigger scale so keep it simple this time. Can you do it quickly?”
    “Actually, I already finished the software over the last few weeks. I just need a zero point and a grid. The rest is just cataloging the pieces and the