Cherry Bomb

“Check under the can, Alex. See if it’s lit.”

“You check, Charles. I don’t have to know that bad.”

But in this case, Alex has to know. Her prints are all over that car, and a quick peek at Officer Stark’s computer shows it has been reported stolen. If the Honda doesn’t explode, it will give Jack an unfair jump on Alex’s location, and let the lieutenant know she has plastic explosives. Not to mention alert the local cops that an escaped serial killer is prowling the area.

Alex speaks into the radio, reading the call number off the screen.

“Central, this is Five Victor Seven. Negative on that 10-73. It was the own er, spent a few days out of town, forgot to call home, over. I’m giving her a warning. Over.”

“Roger that, Five Victor Seven.”

Alex turns around, faces the cop in the backseat.

“Officer Stark, I need you to check to see why my car hasn’t blown up.”

Officer Stark doesn’t move, and her face reveals she isn’t pleased with the idea.

“Chances are pretty good that it went out,” Alex says, soothing. “I don’t think it’s going to blow up in your face.”

“Then you go check.”

“I have the gun, so I don’t have to. Now, are you going to help a civilian out, or do I have to put two in your knees?”

“You’re making it worse for yourself. You need to stop before this goes too far.”

Alex considers this woman. She’s tall enough, but the eyes are wrong.

“Are you married, Stark?”

“Yes. I have a husband and three kids. You don’t want to do anything stupid.”

“Exactly. Which is why you’re the one who’s going to check the fuse.”

Alex exits the vehicle and walks around to Stark’s door. One hand opens it. The other points the Sig.

“Check if the fuse died, or any other problem you can find.”

“I don’t know anything about explosives.”

“It’s easy. If you see a spark, run. And make sure you run this way, or I’ll shoot you.”

Stark pulls herself out of the backseat-not the easiest of tasks with cuffs on-and stands before Alex.

Alex extends her empty hand. Stark flinches, but Alex brings the gun up under her jaw to keep her still. She pushes a stray auburn bang out of Stark’s face, tucks it behind her ear.

“Don’t be afraid,” Alex says. “Things happen beyond our control. We can’t do anything to stop them. But we do have control over how we react. How we respond. Being afraid is a choice.”

The speech seems to have the opposite effect on Stark, who begins to tremble. Alex rolls her eyes.

“Just get over there, ’fraidy cat.”

Stark moves like a robot, joints stiff, head down, sca

The closer Stark gets to the Honda, the slower she becomes. At this rate, the sun will be up before the car explodes.

“Let’s pick up the pace, Officer Stark. I’m hoping to get laid to night. You find the fuse?”

Stark mumbles something, the words lost in the night.

“Crouch lower,” Alex says. “It’s a ski

Another mumble. Alex aims, fires a round over Stark’s head, close enough for her to feel the wind. The cop drops to the ground.

“That’s what I mean. Keep looking.”

Another minute passes, along with three rubberneckers. One slows down enough to maybe see that things aren’t right. The radio squawks again.

“Five Victor Seven, what’s your twenty? Over.”

Alex doesn’t know radio call signals. And she can’t trust Officer Stark to give her the correct response. She chooses to ignore it, hoping to get out of there shortly.

“See the fuse?” Alex calls to Stark, who is now on all fours next to the Honda, shaking so bad she looks like a wet dog.

“No.”

“Check underneath, by the gas tank.”

Stark doesn’t budge. Alex shoots out the tire Stark is crouching next to, the pop almost as loud as the gunfire.

“I hate repeating myself, Val.”

“Five Victor Seven, status.”

Goddamn radio. Alex opens the front door, grabs the hand mike.

“Just finishing up here, Central. Computer problems.”

She tosses the mike back inside, and notices Officer Stark is under the car. But there’s a faint blue light under there with her.

The bitch has a cell phone. Probably one of those ultra-thin models for Alex to have missed it in the pat down.

“Five Victor Seven, do you have a 10-86? Over.”

Dammit. Alex figures she said something wrong, which means another patrol car will cruise by any minute. She needs to get out of here, pronto.

“Throw away the phone, Val!”

Alex fires two rounds into the trunk of the car. The cop can’t drop the phone fast enough, and it skitters across the pavement.

“Now grab the plastic explosive I put on the gas tank!”

Val cowers, hands covering her head, as if that will protect her from a forty-five-caliber bullet.

Alex takes a deep, calming breath, then exits the vehicle.

“I’m going to count to three. If I don’t see the plastic in your hand, your children will grow up without a mother. One…two…”

Officer Stark holds up the PENO.

“Good. Now run back here. Move it, double time.”

Stark half jogs/half stumbles to the squad car. Her face is wet.

“Gimme the plastic, and get in the backseat. Close the door behind you.”

The cop follows orders. Alex studies the PENO. The fuse has fallen out. Alex frowns with half of her face. She places the PENO on the passenger seat.

“Now take your clothes off, Officer Stark.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so. Faster would be better. If you follow directions, you’ll live through this.”

She uncuffs her and Officer Stark strips. Alex enjoys the show. From experience, she knows how difficult it is to undress a body. It’s much easier, and quicker, when they undress themselves.

“Underwear too. This is just so you won’t be able to follow me.”

Alex gives Officer Stark credit for not losing it. There are tears, but no begging or sobbing. Tough broad. Not a bad body either.

“Very good, Officer Stark. Now I want you to get into the Honda. I’m going to leave you there.”

Alex opens the door, checks for cars, then marches the cop to the Honda. Moving bodies is an even bigger pain in the ass than undressing them. Much easier to let them move themselves.

“Sit in the driver’s seat, put your hands out.”

Alex tucks the gun into her waistband. Naked, the cop has lost the will to fight back. It takes a few seconds to uncuff one of her wrists, then attach it to the steering wheel.

“Are you afraid, Val?”

Officer Stark stares hard at Alex.

“Yes. But I’m controlling it.”

“Good. Good for you. Are your children proud of you? That their mother is a cop?”

Stark nods.

“They should be.”

Alex hurries back to the squad car, picks up the PENO and two feet of thermalite fuse. Dispatch comes on the radio. Alex switches it off, concentrating on inserting the fuse into the blasting cap. Once she’s satisfied it won’t fall out, she returns to the Honda, stopping once to pick up Officer Stark’s cell phone.

“Normally I savor things like this, Val, but I’m short on time.”

Alex takes the cigarette lighter from her pocket, and leans across Stark to press it into the outlet.

“I’m using a forty-second fuse. I won’t light it until your call goes through. Forty seconds probably isn’t long enough to say goodbye to your kids, but it’s an unfair world.”

Alex hands Stark the phone. She looks deep into the cop’s eyes, sees it all. Disbelief. Realization. Anger. Despair. Acceptance. Out of everyone Alex has killed today, this is the most memorable. Too bad she can’t stick around to watch her face during the final moments.

The lighter pops out.

“Call home, Val.”

Val’s hands are shaking so badly she has to dial three times. Finally, she gets a co