Seal Team Seven #19: Field of Fire by Keith Douglass Page B

and insisted on taking two.
    “Set one for ten minutes, and one for fifteen minutes. If one doesn’t work, the other one will.”
    “They work, ma’am. I’ve never had one of these misfire on me. Maybe two hundred times I’ve used them.”
    “Good, then we have a guaranteed backup.”
    They taped the four one-pound blocks of C-5 together in pairs. She would place them side by side against the rear wall, push in the arming levers, and ride away.
    “Yes, I understand,” Barbara said. “I can do this. I’ve done everything else. This is easy compared to shooting a man.” She looked away. Her face worked for a moment. “Sorry. I keep remembering my husband. He was a good man. Came to the States to get an MA in Business Administration from Harvard. Did well. He was not a spy.”
    Huda insisted on feeding them again before they left. She had meat cakes of some kind, vegetables, baked potatoes, and a delicious salad that Lam liked so well he asked for seconds. Huda beamed.
    Jaybird took one final look at the bomb, then handed Barbara the timer detonators. She knew how to set them and activate them.
    “Casual, just be casual,” Jaybird said. “You’re out for a ride. Don’t go past the military point in your ride. Ride slowly down that alley and at or about twelve noon, put down the bomb, set the timer detonators, and cover the bomb with some trash or the backpack, then ride away. Stay casual.”
    Barbara chuckled. “You’d think I was a brand-new bride the way you guys are being so gentle with me. I can do this.” She looked at her watch. It was a quarter to twelve. Barbara wheeled the bike out from behind the house and rode away. She went on one of the routes she often used, to avoid as many hills as possible. At five until twelve she pedaled past the small army unit building. It was an old store the military had taken over and it sat alone on the end of a block of businesses. She went around the block and came down the alley behind the army’s headquarters. No one was in the alley. She stopped, pretending to have trouble with the bike. At last she laid it down, took off her backpack, and rummagedin it as if looking for a tool. Then she shook her head and carried the backpack over to the rear wall of the army building. It was less than forty feet long and half that wide. She eased into the shade there and wiped her brow. Then she reached inside the backpack and looked at the timer detonator. She pushed it into the hole in the putty-like C-5 and set the timer for five minutes. She pushed in the arming lever and stood, wandered back to her bike and lifted it up. Just as she was about to get on the bike, a soldier ran up carrying a rifle.
    “What did you leave against the wall?” he screamed. She ignored him, put her foot on the pedal. He called again, then she felt a sudden hammer blow to her shoulder and at the same time the sound of a gunshot. She staggered forward. The soldier looked at her, then at the backpack against the wall. He ran toward the building and was almost there when it exploded. The force of the blast almost knocked Barbara down. She held the bike tightly until the surge of hot air slammed past her. Then she sat on the bike and rode away out the short end of the alley to the street and to the left toward Huda’s house. Shot, she thought. I’ve been shot. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about the soldier identifying her. That made four. She smiled through the pain that had gushed into her brain, nearly making her pass out. For a moment she thought she would faint. Then she beat it down. She had to ride and get back to Huda’s house. Huda would help her.
    The SEALs and the CIA men loaded into the van and the sedan and drove away ten minutes before twelve. They figured it would take them a half hour to get to the spot they needed this side of the laboratory. Then a two-hundred-yard hike uphill to the rear slope they wanted that would let them look down on the laboratory only two hundred