Free The Archimedes Effect by Tom Clancy

bomb guys could read.
    Ten minutes from now, the Dumpster was going to pop the lid and spew a goodly portion of its stinking contents into the air—the steel walls would almost surely hold, it wasn’t that big a boomer—and the result would be a nasty mess for some poor bastard on kitchen patrol to clean up. Come all this way to blow up a garbage can? Well, it was what Lewis wanted, and probably she had some reason, though he damn sure didn’t know what it was.
    He turned and started to walk away. In ten minutes, he’d be halfway back to where they’d anchored the boat. By the time the Army figured out what happened—he wouldn’t put it past ’em to blame it on methane gas—he and Hill and Stark would have sailed away.
    He grinned. Stupid Army wonks . . .
    “Sergeant,” came a masculine, if somewhat high-pitched, voice.
    Startled, Carruth turned. It was that shavetail second lieutenant he’d passed earlier, standing three meters behind him. A big mistake on his part. He should have been paying better attention. “Sir?”
    “What is your unit, soldier?”
    Carruth repressed the urge to sigh. Just his luck to run into a kid officer who apparently had a eye for faces and didn’t recognize Carruth’s.
    “My unit, sir? I’m on loan from the 704th Chemical, Arden Hills, sir. USASOC. I just arrived this morning to teach a class in decontamination procedure.” He took a step toward the lieutenant.
    The younger man—he couldn’t be more than twenty-two or -three—frowned. “I don’t recall seeing a posting about that.”
    Carruth stole another step. “I wouldn’t know about that, sir. I just go where I’m told and do what they say. I have my orders right here.” He reached toward his pocket, as if to remove them.
    The lieutenant waved that off. “What are you doing messing around back here with the garbage cans?”
    “I got lost, sir. Saw some trash on the ground and picked it up.” He didn’t have time for this. The clock was ticking.
    He was close enough now, but maybe it wouldn’t come to that. If this idiot would just leave it, he’d be on his way.
    “Show me.”
    “Sir?”
    “The trash you picked up. I want to see it.”
    Aw, shit. He had a problem. This conversation had gone on long enough so that buzz-cut here would remember him once the can went boom! and that was bad. Plus the fact that when he opened that Dumpster lid, that ED lying on the bed of yellow egg residue would stand out like a red flag.
    “Yes, sir.” And with that, Carruth clocked the lieutenant, a short hammer-fist to the temple, putting his hip into the hit.
    The lieutenant fell like his legs had vanished. He was out cold.
    But he was gonna wake up in a few minutes and probably his memory would work just fine. That wasn’t gonna do.
    Carruth picked the unconscious officer up, shouldered him, and carried him the Dumpster. He lifted the lid and dropped the lieutenant into the bin. Wiped the lid where he had touched it, then latched the top shut.
    He walked away. Too bad for the soldier, but risk went with the job. Probably the explosion would kill him; at the least, it would mess him up enough that he wouldn’t be talking anytime soon.
    Better him than me . . .

Net Force HQ
Quantico, Virginia
    Jay Gridley sat in Thorn’s office, looking, as he often did, like a teenager late for a date.
    “You got the report on the base in Hawaii?” Thorn asked.
    “I haven’t read it yet,” Jay answered. “It was in the spool when you called.”
    “Somebody cut through the fence and blew up a Dumpster.”
    Jay laughed. “Whoa. Big-time assault.”
    “The bomber apparently decked a second lieutenant and put him into the garbage bin with the bomb.”
    “Jeez. Kill him?”
    “No. The trash somehow partially muted the blast. Blew out his eardrums, gave him a major concussion, ruptured spleen, collapsed lung, burns, and cuts. He’s in bad shape, but he’s still alive.”
    “Poor bastard.”
    “I’m expecting my phone to ring