investigating a suspicious black Lincoln Navigator.”
Harvath could feel his heart rate pick up. “What caused the explosion? Was the Navigator rigged?”
“No idea. Dispatch lost contact with the officer. Stay on my bumper. We’re going to turn around.”
The two cars took advantage of a break in the median, U-turned, and, with Urda now also under lights and siren, sped toward the fire. When Harvath looked over at the FBI agent’s speedometer, he saw that they were doing well over eighty miles an hour.
As Hoffman made it to the exit, he barely slowed down. Using the shoulder, he flew up the ramp, only feathered his brakes, and took a hard left into the intersection. Urda followed right behind.
They crossed over the highway and headed toward the source of the explosion. Up ahead were multiple emergency vehicles making their way in the same direction. The sound of screaming klaxons filled the air.
Hoffman blasted through two red lights and kept going. Suddenly, a blazing fire could be seen up ahead.
Four squad cars were already on scene. Leaning against one of the vehicles was an injured Nashville PD officer who was pressing a bloody bandage against his head. From the looks of him, he must have been close when the blast detonated. That was the first person Harvath wanted to talk to.
Urda pulled his car off the side of the road, just past the main entrance of the storage lot. He didn’t even have it in Park before Harvath had thrown open his door and jumped out.
The bloody officer’s nameplate read Edmondson. “What happened?”
The cop looked at Harvath and then over at Urda’s sedan with its flashing lights. Figuring Harvath was some sort of law enforcement, he said, “Sergeant Gerads was investigating a suspicious vehicle. When dispatch couldn’t raise him, they called for any nearby units to respond. I was about a mile away. I pulled up just as the explosion happened.”
“What exploded?”
“I don’t know,” the officer said.
“Where’s Gerads?”
“I don’t know.”
“How about the vehicle? The black Navigator he was investigating?” Harvath asked.
“I didn’t see anything except the explosion.”
The officer’s head, face, and upper body looked as if they had been raked with shrapnel. Behind them, fire trucks were now turning off the road and moving quickly into the lot.
“Where were you when the explosion happened?”
Officer Edmondson lifted his head and pointed to his patrol vehicle inside the lot. Even at this distance, Harvath could see that it had sustained some pretty serious damage. It looked like it had been hit by an IED. The man was lucky to be alive.
As Urda approached, Harvath looked at him and said, “Get on the phone to Quantico. Tell them to scramble a forensics team and get them here as quickly as possible.”
“Will do,” said Urda, as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket.
Harvath walked up the drive to join Hoffman, who was standing at the keypad for the open gate. The facility resembled a trailer park that had been turned upside down and set on fire. There was furniture, personal effects, and all sorts of debris everywhere. It was going to take months to figure out what belonged to whom.
“The Fire Department wants everyone to stay back,” the detective stated. “They don’t know what other explosive items may be stored in some of these units.”
Over the chaos, Harvath heard the sound of rotors. Looking up, he saw a police helicopter. It was sweeping the area with its powerful Midnight Sun spotlight. Hoffman held up his handheld radio so that he and Harvath could listen. As the pilot held the helo in hover, the tactical flight officer ran the searchlight and also studied his FLIR to direct firemen to the hottest part of the fire.
There were six rows of storage units, four of which were burning. Harvath pointed toward the business office at the edge of the sixth row and said, “Gather up as many officers as you can and meet me over there. If any of them have breaching tools, tell them to bring them.”
“What are you doing? The fire chief said—” Hoffman began.
“I know what the fire chief said,” Harvath replied. “Just do it.”
Hoffman nodded and went to round up officers as Harvath ran toward the office. With every step, the temperature from the fire seemed to go up by ten degrees. By the time he reached the glass front doors, his face was flushed and the hair on his arms was beginning to singe.
He tried the doors, but they were locked, so he looked on