That was the last image Sam Carter saw before he passed out, but even then, he knew that it wouldn’t be the last time. He would see the fire and blood and death again in his dreams, probably for the rest of his days.

Chapter 62

Nic growled into his radio, “What just happened? Someone answer me!”

Finally, a voice he recognized as belonging to Jenny Kaplan, one of his team’s snipers, said, “It’s bad. Strom is gone.”

“We have a whole room of paramedics over—”

“He was right next to the blast. There’s nothing left to revive.”

Tears welled up in Nic’s eyes. He quickly wiped them away and shook his head from side to side. No crying, that had been one of Pop’s rules. He forced himself to concentrate on the case, and those still breathing.

“What about the bomber?” he asked. “Anyone else in the blast radius?”

“The bomber went up with his toy. There was a bit of shrapnel, but only superficial injuries from that. Your friend from the FBI took a hit from the blast, but he’s fine. Taz is on his way to you with the last hostage. How are the others?”

Nic leaned against a display of Purina dog food for support. All he could think of was Stromberg singing “Time After Time” with that big, goofy grin on his face.

“Nic? You read me?”

“Copy that,” he said.

“Are you okay? Maybe—”

He turned off his radio, not caring about protocols or SOPs, just needing a moment alone with the only voice in his head being his own. But he couldn’t get Stromberg off his mind, his voice, his laugh. It was a laugh that came completely from the back of his throat and reminded Nic of some Disney character, but it was also infectious and made Nic smile every time he had heard it.

Someone called his name. He checked his radio. Still off. He was now sitting on the floor, leaning against the shelving unit, although he didn’t remember sitting down. How long ago had that been?

“Hey, buttercup, did I give you permission to go on break?”

Nic placed a hand on the rows of dog food and pushed himself to his feet. Taz, Carter, and the Indian woman the giant terrorist had used for Russian roulette practice stood at the end of the aisle. They all looked how he felt. The woman seemed to be in a sort of still half-terrified daze. Carter’s face was red and smeared with ash, his eyes lacking the calm confidence they had exuded during the rest of the day.

“Did you have a nice nap?” Taz said. “You ready to get back to work?”

“Yes, sir,” Nic said.

Carter looked around and asked, “Where’s Dr. Burke?”

Nic took a deep breath. He really didn’t need another punch in the gut right now, but he sensed one coming. He said, “Burke dropped me off and peeled out of the lot. Said to tell you he’s ‘retiring’ from the FBI.”