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finger with the powder and slid it into
Ben's mouth. "Feel the buzz?"
    He shrugged.
    "Here, try it again." Jasmine rubbed her finger under his
upper lip.
    Ben licked his lips, wanting the kick. Feeling cheated. "It
tastes sweet."
    "Don't be dumb, Benjie. It's supposed to be tangy, and give
you a little..." Jasmine ran her finger under her own lip. She
frowned.
    "What's wrong?" Ben said.
    She shoved the baggie back into the knapsack. "We gotta
book it outta here. Luther's running some sort of scam."
    "What scam?"
    "It's sugar, you fool."
    "Wait. Maybe they put a bag of sugar on top because they
knew you would dig into it."
    Ben unzipped the pack all the way so he could get a better
look. Underneath the bags of powder was something any kid
who had seen an action flick would recognize.
    Plastique explosives, with a detonator attached and a digital
clock set to 10:00 a.m.

     

chapter seven
    OGAN AND PAPPAS STOOD ON NORTH SPIRE, STARING
down at the Circle. Pappas droned on about the precautions for the president's train ride. Quanta planned
a party atmosphere, with President Freeman taking in an
afternoon game at Yankee Stadium and then a night game at
Fenway.
    The high-speeds were that fast.
    Is that what we've been reduced to? Logan wondered.
Burrowing underground so the enemy can't get us? Maybe
he should have taken the same route. Gone underground by
moving his family out of Barcester right after Kimmie was
born. But Hilary had been so loving that he never breathed one
doubt about why their daughter didn't look a bit like him. If
she had been unfaithful, it was over and done with. He had
silently forgiven her, and they became a family, happy together
for almost five years.
    And then, out of the blue, Hilary announced she wanted
a divorce.
    Homeland security-what a joke. Logan couldn't even
protect the sanctity of his own home, and Pappas was blabbing
on about arrangements for Columbus Day?
    His cell buzzed, a welcome diversion. Logan glanced at the
screen. Private caller. Better answer it. It could be Hilary or
maybe Marita. He pushed talk. "Sergeant Logan."
    "Hello? Sergeant Logan?" A kid with a hitch in his voice.
    "This is. Can I help you?"

    Silence.
    "Son, is there something-"
    "You gave us a card. Said if there was ever any problem, we
could call this number." The kid spoke so fast that Logan could
barely catch what he was saying.
    "A what?"
    "A business card. Two nights ago."
    The curfew sweep. Sixteen boys and seven girls trucked to
the substation. Most of them thought it was a party, an arrest
that would be their first badge of honor. Logan had given them
his cell number so they could talk without having to go through
the PD switchboard.
    "What can I do for you, son?"
    "There's a bomb."
    "What?"
    The kid's voice hushed. "I can't say it again. Someone might
be watching us."
    "You said bomb."
    Pappas jerked to attention. Motioning him close, Logan
upped the volume on his phone.
    "Yeah," the kid said.
    "Where?"
    "The Circle."
    Pappas frowned. Logan held up his index finger. Wait. Hot
summer days and bored kids bred pranks. "Are you there now?"
    "Nearby. It's set to blow."
    Logan peered down the boulevard. They were too far away
and the bushes too dense for him to spot anyone. "Talk to me,
son. Where exactly are you?"
    "I'm calling from... " The kid stopped.
    "It's OK. You can tell me."
    "I'm outside the Circle on one of the paths."
    "Which path?"

    "One of 'em, that's all. I told people to get away, said I saw
a big snake in the bushes. There were only a couple of kids out
anyway. Too hot to cycle."
"
    "Ask him how he knows," Pappas whispered.
    "How do you know it's a bomb?" Logan said.
    I was in the bushes. Just hanging out. I ... um ... found a
knapsack in there. There was plastique."
    Logan handed his two-way to Pappas. Call Central, he
mouthed. Tell them to stand by.
    Pappas got on, speaking low, eyes on Logan.
    "You know what plastique looks like?"
    "Kinda."
    "You want the