Craig Kreident #2 Fallout Read Online Free PDF

Craig began to wonder if the terrorist had managed to set up his explosive after all, or if he had merely been lying to cause a panic.   The bomber could have a last laugh at the FBI’s expense, knowing the agents would frantically close down the dam and search fruitlessly for hours.
    But Craig couldn’t believe the militia man would be willing to die for a practical joke.  
    The worst part was not knowing how much time remained.   The bomb could explode in the next ten seconds . . . or the terrorist could have set the bomb to detonate hours later when hundreds of tourists streamed through the Hoover Dam.
    Every sound made Craig tense.   What if more than one saboteur had crept into the passages that morning?   Craig grabbed the small walkie talkie, which he had switched off during the shootout, and turned on the speaker.
    Goldfarb squawked at him in a highly agitated voice.   “Craig, dammit, why don’t you answer?   We’ve found it!   The bomb’s down here.”
    “Acknowledged, Ben,” he said quickly, covering his surprise.   “Tell me the details — we’re on our way.”
    “Here in the generator room.   It’s hooked up to the first two main turbines.   It looks homemade, but complex.   You know how touchy those things can be.”
    “EOD should be here any minute,” he said.   “Is there a timer?   Can you see how much we’ve got left?”
    “Six minutes, Craig.   Piece of cake.”
    “Six minutes!”   Craig felt his heart leap.   He started running, then stopped.   “Mr. Garcia, maybe you’d better just get out of here.”
    The supervisor didn’t need to be told twice as he raced for the high-speed service elevator.   “Just don’t let my dam get ruined, Agent Kreident,” he called over his shoulder.
    Without answering, Craig raced down the tunnel back to the main generator room.   Goldfarb crouched beside one of the enormous turbines while Jackson stood tall and stern like a traffic-crossing guard, motioning Craig to where the bomb had been planted.  
    Goldfarb looked up, his swarthy face flushed, his skin speckled with perspiration around his normally infectious grin.   “Five minutes flat, Craig,” he said quietly, whipping his palm across his brow.
    Craig bent to inspect the device tucked under the generator cowling, connected to a similar home-made bomb linked to the second generator.  
    “If those Explosive Ordnance guys don’t get here soon, I’m going to start yanking out wires,” Goldfarb said.   “Or would you prefer to have the honor, Craig — you’re the senior agent.”
    “I don’t have a clue how to disarm a bomb,” Craig said, squatting beside the other agent.   For anything other than simple plastic explosives, Bureau policy was ‘Leave it to the professionals.’   “I always meant to learn one of these days.”
    “Well, here’s our chance for on-the-job training,” Goldfarb said bleakly.   Craig saw that his partner’s hands were shaking.  
    “Yo!” Jackson said as the elevator doors opened.   Two men wearing helmets, visors and heavily padded olive-green body armor sprinted out.
    Craig stood up, feeling a wash of relief.   “Step lively — you’ve got five minutes left on the timer.”
    “Uh, four minutes,” Goldfarb said.
    The first EOD expert whipped out a pack of tools from his side and dove to the bomb as if he were sliding into home base.   With his clear visor down, he pushed himself to within inches of the device, studying the wires.   The second man moved to block Jackson, Goldfarb, and Craig from the explosive device.   “Please get out of here, gentlemen.   We need to work alone.”
    “I’m staying here,” Craig said firmly.
    “No, sir — that wouldn’t be smart.   If something goes wrong, everyone is at risk.   There’s nothing you can do except get in the way.   Don’t waste time arguing with me.”
    Craig blinked, abashed, and realized the EOD man was right.   “Sorry.”
    “We’ve got two