air. “Central, call the United States attorney and let him know that we have located a gym bag filled with banded hundred-dollar bills. And they have punctures in them. We’re checking the numbers now. Tell him we’d like authorization to arrest the subject.”
Kate checked Vail for a reaction. There was none. “Could Pendaran be involved?”
“Funny how only the punctured money keeps showing up. I don’t know how much there is, but I know you can’t get two million dollars in a gym bag.”
“I guess that’s my reward for hanging around with you. They get the money, and we get the bomb,” Kate said.
Vail smiled at her. “Am I a good time or what?”
SERGEANT MIKE HENNING of the Los Angeles police bomb squad lifted off his helmet, wiping his hand across his sweating forehead. Like so many people in L.A., he seemed almost too attractive for his job, as if he were an actor shooting a movie. With his dark, waxy hair combed straight back and his thin, sculpted mustache, he could have been a figure in an art deco poster from the thirties. “It’s shut down,” he said to Kate and Vail.
“Then it was a bomb,” she said.
He peeled back the Velcro straps that fastened his protective suit. “Well, it’s a device. But there’s no explosive. It’s more of a flamethrower than a bomb. I’ve never seen anything like it. Whoever built it wanted somebody dead, and in a fashion that would have made a very loud statement. If you had yanked the trunk open—barring a malfunction—you’d have been incinerated. Come on, I’ll show you.”
The trunk lid was now fully open. Henning wiped his forehead again. “A flamethrower is made up of a fuel supply, a compressed-gas source, and a striker, all contained in a delivery system.” He pointed into the trunk. “This is absolutely deadly. Not just regular deadly, agonizing deadly. Somebody doesn’t like law enforcement.” Henning looked at Vail. “I assume this was done by your friends from the tunnel.”
“Because of similar construction?”
“Because of its deadliness. Whoever put it together had his heart set on killing human beings, but not until they’d suffered a great deal of pain. I’d love to set this off to show you just how serious these people are, but that would make a mess.” He leaned over the trunk. “What makes it so ingenious is that the trunk is the delivery system. And it’s completely disposable. One use only. As a side benefit it destroys all trace evidence at the same time it’s inflicting casualties.”
“Exactly how was it supposed to work?” Kate asked.
“See the liquid bladder lying on the bed on the trunk? It looks like about a ten-gallon bag. Made of some sort of polymer. They’re commonly used as extra fuel cells, usually on boats. They’re durable, puncture-resistant, and fit anywhere. But see these?” Henning pointed to six evenly spaced plastic plugs along the back end of the bladder closest to the trunk opening. “Those were cut into the bag by your friends. They then epoxied those blowout plugs and their seatings into it. At the moment, there’s a minimum of pressure on them from the gasoline, so they will stay firmly in place, preventing the gasoline from escaping. Now take a look at the other side of the bladder. The hole with the metal plate reinforcing it, that’s how you fill the bag up with gasoline. Only, after filling it, they used the coupling to attach that compressed-air cylinder bolted down behind it. And as you can see, the cylinder has a quick-release nozzle and handle. The wire that connected the trunk lid to the quick-release handle was just long enough so when you got the lid half open, all the compressed air was released at once. It’s driven through the bladder, blowing out the six plugs and shooting the gasoline straight up into the trunk lid. The curve of the lid would channel it out through the back, deluging whoever was standing directly behind the car.”
Henning shook his head with admiration. “Now this is even more impressive. When the fuel hit the lid, it would jerk it up fully, causing the strikers on either side to spark, creating a delay effect.” Vail recognized the strikers. They were used by welders and looked like giant safety pins with a metal bottle cap at one end. “In other words, first you’re soaked with the fuel, and a split second later it’s ignited, ensuring the target is turned into charcoal in less than