The Burning Wire (Lincoln Rhyme 9)

"Clear the area! Now. That's where the bomb is! The Mercedes."

He heard shouting in Spanish, the sound of footfalls, hard breathing.

Then, a stunning explosion.

Rhyme blinked at the startling noise that rattled the speakers of the phone.

"Commander! Are you there? . . . Rodolfo?"

More shouting, static, screams.

"Rodolfo!"

After a long moment: "Captain Rhyme? Hello?" The man was shouting--probably because he'd been partially deafened by the blast.

"Commander, are you all right?"

"Hello!"

A hissing noise, moans, gasping. Shouts.

Sirens and more shouting.

Cooper asked, "Should we call--"

And then "Que? . . . Are you there, Captain?"

"Yes. Are you hurt, Rodolfo?"

"No, no. No bad injuries. Some cuts, stunned, you know." The voice was gasping. "We climbed over barriers and got down on the other side. I see people cut, bleeding. But no one is dead, I think. It would have killed me and the officers standing beside me. How did you know?"

"I'll go into that later, Commander. Where is the Watchmaker?"

"Wait a moment . . . wait. . . . All right. At the explosion he fled. Arturo's men were distracted by the blast--as he planned, of course. Arturo said a car drove into the park and he got inside. They're moving south now. We have officers following him. . . . Thank you, Captain Rhyme. I cannot thank you enough. But now I must go. I will call as soon as we learn something."

Inhaling deeply, ignoring the headache and the sweat. Okay, Logan, Rhyme was thinking, we've stopped you. We've ruined your plan. But we still don't have you. Not yet.

Please, Rodolfo. Keep after him.

As he was thinking this, his eyes strayed over the evidence charts in the Galt case. Maybe this would be the conclusion of both of the operations. The Watchmaker would be apprehended in Mexico, and Ray Galt, in an abandoned school near Chinatown.

Then his eyes settled on one bit of evidence in particular: Chinese herbs, ginseng and wolfberry.

And another listing, a substance that had been found in proximity to the herbs: Diesel fuel.

Rhyme originally had thought that the fuel was from a possible site of an attack, a refinery perhaps. But it occurred to him now that diesel fuel would also run motors.

Like in an electric generator.

Then another thought occurred to him.

"Mel, the call--"

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Rhyme snapped.

"You look flushed."