Countdown to Terror Read Free Page B

glare at each other, "I'd like to hear what he has to say."
    He turned to Dundee, but the older cop's face was still a frozen mask.
    Gerald Dundee reached into his pocket, threw enough money down on the table to cover the tab, and rose abruptly from his seat. "I don't have to justify myself to anyone, especially to a kid like you," he said. "I've put in enough time on the job to know what I'm doing."
    He stepped away from the table and headed for the stairs that led down to the street. "If you want a lift back to the Harbour Hotel, I'll give it to you. But we won't discuss the case."
    Joe wanted to discuss it, but judging from the looks on his brother's and Dundee's faces, he knew his chance for learning anything that night was blown.
    Joe looked unhappily at his half-eaten meal for the second time that night. At least the lift would get them back to their hotel quickly. Maybe the Harbour Hotel had steak on its room-service menu.
    "Uh, thanks, Sergeant," Joe said. "I'd appreciate the lift." He glanced over at Frank, giving him a look that said, "Cool it — one of us should stay friendly with this guy."
    They walked down the stairs to the restaurant exit, Joe walking with Dundee, Frank trailing behind. It felt funny for Joe to be playing the nice guy — especially when they were playing the game with a cop.
    Dundee led the way to the unmarked car, opening the doors. "I'm afraid one of you will have to ride in the back."
    Frank silently took the rear seat, usually reserved for suspects and prisoners. Joe took the shotgun seat, right in front of the car's police radio.
    Gerry Dundee stepped around the car to get behind the steering wheel. He started the engine and pulled the car away from the sidewalk.
    "Hand me that mike, Joe," he said as they drove down the street. "I should call in and let the dispatcher know I'm back in the car."
    Joe handed over the microphone, and Dundee hit the button on the side. "Car ninety-seven to base — I'm heading back to town."
    There was a brief burst of static, then a voice came back, "What's the matter, Gerry? The steak over there too tough for you nowadays?"
    That got a flash of a grin from Dundee. Obviously he and the dispatcher were old friends. "Helen, life is tough — not the steaks."
    While Dundee and the dispatcher bantered, Frank leaned over from the back seat, listening intently.
    "What's that noise?" he asked suddenly.
    Dundee glanced over his shoulder, his face hardening again. "What noise?"
    They all could hear it now, over the open line—brief, tiny blips of interference, coming regularly.
    Frank frowned as he listened, his eyes searching the interior of the car. "Those blips are some kind of FM broadcast—and since they're not getting any softer or louder, I guess whatever's causing them is in this car."
    "So?" Dundee wanted to know.
    "So," Frank answered, "the only thing I can think of that would make that noise is a radio-controlled bomb."
    His face was grim as he turned to the others. "And I think we're riding right on top of it."

Chapter 4
    GERRY DUNDEE LICKED his lips nervously.
    "Son," he said, "you picked a great time to tell me that."
    Frank and Joe looked up from the search they'd been making of the car to stare at what was happening around them.
    Dundee had just turned onto a busy road. They were jammed in the middle of traffic now.
    "We can't bail out here," Joe said. "Where does this road go?"
    "Straight to the bridge," Dundee said, his voice tight. "If we blow up anywhere along here, we'll take dozens of people with us."
    Frank's eyes darted right and left. "Can't we turn off and head for someplace less congested?"
    Dundee shrugged. "We can try to turn left up here—if we don't get killed by the bridge traffic."
    He was going to try for the left-hand lane, but a car screeched up beside theirs just then, cutting them off. The bridge toll stations were ahead of them now. They were stuck on the bridge, like it or not.
    Frank turned to the left and stared at the