Zoe eyed the screen. “Those seem awful small for bombs.”
“They’re detonators,” Sam said, then to Dimitris, asked, “Did you see any other explosive devices?”
“No. Just these. But won’t that help prove the Kyrils are guilty?”
“Not necessarily.” If they had the actual explosive material used to make the bombs, Interpol could test the chemical composition to see if it matched the residue from the incendiary device that killed their investigators. An identical chemical signature would be almost impossible for the Kyrils to explain away.
Had he been by himself, he wouldn’t hesitate to go back. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.
This time, when he tried to close the door, Remi stopped him. “We can’t leave now,” she said. “What if this is what finally brings the Kyril kingdom down?”
“It’s too dangerous,” Sam said. “It won’t do any of us any good if we get killed looking for it.”
“I’m willing to take the risk,” Dimitris said, holding on to the door, refusing to let Sam close it. “It’s the only way to stop the Kyrils.”
Reluctantly, Sam changed his mind. “I’ll need a lookout. You and I can go back in. The women can wait here.”
“No,” Zoe said, grasping Dimitris’s arm. “You can’t go. I just got you back.”
Remi looked at the two of them, then Sam. “I’ll go with you.”
There were so many reasons he should have told her no, but the look in her eyes convinced him otherwise. “You’re sure you want to do this?”
“Positive.”
He turned to Zoe. “You know the trees we hid behind near the front?”
She nodded.
“The two of you wait there. If anything happens, get to the dock. Nikos will be waiting.”
“Please be careful.”
After he and Remi slipped inside, he heard the clock counting away the seconds. He closed the door behind them, then led Remi to the office, hoping he wasn’t making the biggest mistake of his life.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Remi watched as Sam picked the lock on the office door, then opened it. Remi stood just inside, peering out the narrow opening to keep watch, while Sam took a look around. From the corner of her eye, she saw him looking at the detonators, which were laid out on the desk blotter, the wires neatly folded against the small tubes as though someone had recently removed them from their packaging. He picked up one, along with a remote, tucking both into his pocket, then went back to searching. Apparently finding nothing in the desk drawers, he turned around and opened the metal cabinets behind him. He stood there a moment, not moving.
Remi looked back at him. “What’s wrong?”
“I was hoping there’d be a safe or munitions box where they might keep the actual explosives.”
She scanned the contents of the cabinet. The top few shelves were filled with smaller office supplies, pens, paper clips, and the like. The bottom shelf had an open case of copy paper, ink toner, a large case of Earl Grey tea, and next to that an open box of bubble wrap. She nodded at the shelf. “My money’s on the Earl Grey box.”
He reached down to pull out the box. “You’re right. It’s way too heavy for tea.” He flipped the lid open, pulling out a thick, gray block in plastic wrapping. “C-4. How’d you know?”
“Besides that there’s no mug sitting on the desk? Only a restaurant would keep that much tea around. It doesn’t stay good forever.” She watched as he unzipped the main pocket on his pack, setting the block of explosive on top of hi
s coil of rope. “Is that safe?” she asked.
“As long as we keep the detonator away from it, very.”
Hearing a noise near the front of the building, she looked out. “Someone’s coming.”
Sam turned off his light, then drew his gun. “Get beneath the desk. Hurry.”
She crawled under while Sam moved to the hinged side of the door, his gun in one hand, his backpack in the other. He pressed himself against the wall and waited.