Ariana’s next call was to the San Diego Police Department and Logan. Last Friday morning she’d been thinking about him, and contemplating calling him to take him up on his suggestion about dinner. What a difference a couple of days made. More accurately, what a difference it made learning about his reputation and witnessing firsthand how he’d earned it.
She assumed it would be Logan, working in collaboration with the federal authorities, who’d be looking into the letter she was holding. He was the key contact regarding the investigation of the two women on the Barbados-bound flight; it made sense he’d be assigned for this latest development, too. The officers stationed at the airport would be supporting the investigation, but Logan would probably be the lead for the SDPD. Unable to reach him, she left an urgent message for him to get back to her. She called the division’s dispatch and advised them, too. Her final call was to her boss, Calvin Murdoch, the airport’s CEO.
If genuine, this had the potential for being a significant occurrence. In keeping with protocol, he needed to be informed that she was initiating their critical incident response plan. Calvin would have to be available for key decisions on her recommendation, such as a possible ground stop, diversion of aircraft and—if it came down to it—an evacuation of the airport or portions of it. He didn’t answer his cell and wasn’t in his office so she asked his executive assistant, Marlene Harris, to have him call her as soon as possible.
When Cyn poked her head into her office, Ariana was glad that her assistant had arrived early. “We have a situation. I need you to get Molly for me,” she said, referring to the vice president of communications for the airport.
Cyn gave her a questioning look but didn’t say a word. She knew that Ariana would fill her in when she had the time and if appropriate. Ariana said silent thanks, as she had on many occasions over the past year, that she had someone of Cyn’s qualifications and caliber to support her.
When Ariana’s cell phone rang, Cyn left the office and discreetly closed the door behind her. Seeing the blocked number, Ariana assumed it was Logan responding to her messages.
She was correct.
“Thanks for getting back to me so quickly,” she said.
“I only wish you’d called to tell me you changed your mind about dinner. But I know why you did. I saw the incident notification.”
“Good. That’ll save some time.” She went on to explain the details of the situation.
“I’m on my way,” he said as soon as she finished. “I’ll brief the officers on site and have them meet us at your office. Have you spoken to FSD Stewart yet?”
“Not yet. He’s on the notification list. I tried calling him, too. I’ll mobilize the multiagency security committee in the meantime. I’ll get anyone presently at the airport to meet us. What’s your ETA?”
“I should be there in less than twenty minutes. Once you’ve got everyone together, start without me. We don’t know if the threat is credible, but we can’t afford to take any chances.”
As soon as Ariana hung up, she called Angus again. San Diego was the largest of the airports he was responsible for, but it was still no surprise he wasn’t on site. Contacting Max, she gave him clear instructions. She paused to take a call from Calvin and filled him in on what was happening.
Cyn tapped on her door. “Molly’s not in. I have her on the phone. Can you take her call now?”
Ariana nodded. As she was finishing briefing Molly, Trevor, her supervisor on duty, arrived. Not bothering with the docking station, she inserted the USB drive he handed her into the port on her laptop.
Trevor rested a forearm on the back of her chair and leaned in to watch the screen with her. “What are we looking for?”
“Someone accessing my office over the weekend.” She played the video clip in fast-forward, slowing only when there was movement in the corridor.
“Why? What happened?” Trevor asked.
Ariana pointed to the sheet of paper lying on her desk without taking her eyes off her monitor. “That. Put on a pair of gloves before you touch it. Top right drawer,” she instructed.
She set the video to run at regular speed when the cleaner entered the frame, unlocked her office door and went in and out, to and from her cart, as she performed her duties. She backed out of the office vacuuming the carpet. Pushing her cart, she moved out of the camera’s range.
“Is this for real?” Trevor asked, his voice shrill, as he placed the letter back on her desk.
Ariana shrugged. “We have to assume it is. At least until we prove otherwise.”
“So there’s a—”
“Wait!” Ariana cut him off. “Look at this.”
She rewound and slowed the video clip. A random dot pixel pattern of static, commonly referred to as snow, was all that was visible on the screen.
“Electronic noise. How could that happen?” Trevor asked.
“That’s what we have to find out. The elapsed time was one minute and forty-eight seconds,” she confirmed from the timer on her watch that she’d started when the disturbance had begun. “Long enough for a person to come down the hall, access my office, leave the envelope and disappear.”
“After he’d disabled the camera,” Trevor stated.
“It’s not a far stretch to think someone can hack into our video management system, if he or she wants to. This won’t help us for now. Let’s get going.”
Ariana thought about the new system she had just authorized Max to acquire and the additional security features it had. That system would make hacking more difficult, but even then it wouldn’t be impossible. At the sound of a knock, she swung around. Two of the SDPD officers assigned to the airport stood in the doorway. Carl Rossi she knew but she hadn’t met the other cop. Rossi made the introduction to Officer Haughton. “Captain O’Connor and his explosives detection dog are on the way.”
“Good. Let’s move to the emergency operations center boardroom and meet them there.” Ariana put her laptop in sleep mode. She rose, grabbed it and her jacket, and led Travis and the two cops out of her office at a brisk jog.
“Captain O’Connor filled you in when you spoke to him?” she asked Rossi.
“Yeah. You’ve got the letter with you?”
Ariana nodded as she entered the meeting room. A few of the members of the multiagency security committee were already present. She briefed them as quickly and succinctly as she could.
“I don’t think I need to say this,” she said to everyone in the room. “But you’ve got the full cooperation and assistance of my team. Let me know what you need.”
Even as she said it, she heard footsteps, accompanied by the clicking of canine nails on the hard tile surface of the corridor. A moment later, Logan O’Connor stood in the doorway with Boomer. Ariana had a peculiar sensation seeing Logan, so imposing and virile. She suppressed her reaction. There was no time for it.
Nor could she dwell on the moment of fear at seeing the dog by his side in the doorway. No escape route, flashed through her mind before she quashed that thought, too. She took a determined step forward to extend a hand to Logan.
“Didn’t think I’d see you so soon,” Logan said to Ariana with a ghost of a smile, voicing her thoughts.
Quick introductions were made to those who’d not met before.
“The SWAT team is right behind me, as are two explosive ordnance disposal technicians. The EOD techs should be here any minute.” He gave Ariana a quick appraising glance, the only hint of anything remotely personal between them. Then he was all cop. “Can I see the note?”
Logan pulled on gloves and accepted the sheet of paper from Trevor. Ariana didn’t need to see the letter again to know what it said.
You think you’re smart? So secure? Can you find the bomb before it detonates? Look where you’d least expect it. Will lives be lost because of your failings?
“Is it credible?” Ariana asked, as others filed in.
“Specificity and intimate knowledge are indictors that raise the threshold to a real threat. ‘Where you’d least expect it’ could imply knowledge of the airport’s operations. Impossible to say if it’s credible based on what we have. We can’t ignore it, though.”
Ariana nodded. She felt the same.
Although Homeland Security’s Office of Intelligence and Analysis hadn’t picked up any online chatter or other advance warning, they couldn’t discount the incident being the act of an organized terrorist cell.
“Where’s Stewart?” Logan asked the TSA supervisory special agent present.
“On his way, I’ve been told.”
Logan was well aware of the hierarchy, which gave the FBI overall responsibility, but they had no time to waste for all the key participants to arrive.
“We’ve got to get moving.” Logan said, taking charge until someone else stepped up to do it. “What else do we know about the person or persons responsible and consequently where the bomb might be? The airport has an enormous floorplate for us to cover. If we can prioritize, it would help.”
He turned to Ariana. “How did he get into your office? Did you check for tampering with the lock?”
“Yeah.” Trevor responded, as he’d been the one to do it, while Ariana initiated the critical incident response plan. “There’s no indication of the lock being forced. The guy had a key or knew how to pick a lock.”
“So it’s someone who has access to your corridor, has a key to your office or is skilled at picking locks. He knows where the security cameras are located and has the expertise or access to resources to tamper with them. What do you make of the comment about it being where you’d least expect it?”
Ariana glanced at Trevor and Max, who’d just joined them, to see if either of them had any ideas. When they shook their heads, she offered hers. “I’d interpret it in one of two ways. Either a noncritical area where the bomb wouldn’t do much damage, or a secure area where the person would’ve had to get in through a TSA checkpoint or alternate means of security screening, for example a gate to the airfield. Since the note mentions lives being lost, I favor the latter. A public area with a concentration of passengers—for example when they’re congregated at a gate just after arrival or before departure, or in security screening lines—would be my guess.”
“Makes sense,” Logan said.
“Do we have any reason to suspect it would be a domestic or international area?”
Ariana gave the question some thought. “Not that I can think of.”
“Anyone else?” he asked.
When no one had other thoughts, they quickly reviewed the airport plans to establish a strategy.
“Should we begin to evacuate the airport? Even partially?” Max asked.
“That’s not my call to make,” Logan responded. “If you want my opinion, we don’t have enough to go on at this point. The likelihood of a major event is low but the consequences, if it happens, are significant. We have no corroboration that the threat is credible. We have no location. Without a known or suspected location, with a full-scale evacuation, people might get injured because of the hysteria that could result. Our dogs are trained to search with members of the public present and with distractions. It won’t compromise their effectiveness. We should reassess if we learn more.”
Again, Logan’s comments were in line with Ariana’s own thinking.
“All right, let’s get going. We have no idea how long we have if this isn’t a hoax. We need to work fast, and our best chance is our explosives detection dogs.”
Ariana’s breath hitched at the mention of dogs—plural.
Logan gave her a quizzical look. “I have two more dogs and handlers coming in to cover the areas as quickly as possible. Rick Vazquez and his dog, Nitro, are on their way. You’ll remember meeting Rick,” Logan said with a small smile. “So is Shannon Clemens, and Darwin. She was here the other day. We’ll work with Boomer and Nitro off-leash, for maximum speed. Is that a problem?”
Ariana forced her head to turn side to side.
“Good. The airport is too large to cover in any reasonable time otherwise. To keep passengers calm about a couple of dogs running around, I suggest you make an announcement that we’re conducting a drill. Let people know that they shouldn’t be afraid of or interfere with the dogs.”
“Of course,” Ariana said, her voice tight, trying not to think of two big dogs off leash and a third one, leashed or not, likely in close proximity to her.
At the sound of people and dogs approaching, Logan turned to the doorway. “Great. Thanks for coming in,” he greeted Rick and Shannon. “Sergeant Rick Vasquez works narcotics mainly but his dog, Nitro, was an explosives detection dog before he was retrained for drugs. Nitro’s smart and fast. He’s worked the airport previously. Officer Clemens is new to the K-9 Unit as is her dog, Darwin. They’ll assist us,” he said to everyone in the room.
Both dogs were sitting between Ariana and the door. Including Boomer, Ariana now had three dogs between her and her escape route from the boardroom. She gulped some air. She knew her best defense against panicking was to breathe deeply and distract herself enough to let the fear subside.
She had a bomb threat to deal with, and this one carried more weight than the ones they experienced periodically. She wouldn’t let her phobia get in the way of doing her job.
Although Ariana managed to hold off the anxiety attack, she breathed easier when everyone present, the three dogs included, left the boardroom.
Logan slapped Rick on the back, before they headed in opposite directions at a run. Logan and Boomer took Terminal 1. Rick and Nitro, with Shannon and Darwin assisting, Terminal 2.
FSD Stewart showed up just as they were heading out. He was out of breath and disheveled. He grabbed Ariana’s arm as she was rushing past. “What’s the status?”
“Go with the captain,” Ariana told Trevor. “I’ll follow when I’m done here.” She had no choice than to provide a brief overview to Angus. Ariana excused herself as quickly as possible so she could catch up to Logan, leaving Angus and his subordinate, who’d stayed back after the briefing, to notify other area airports as they deemed appropriate. There was no way of knowing if it was an isolated threat or others might be targeted, too.
Ariana’s priority was her San Diego International.
Before long, the airport was swarming with law enforcement officers. The FBI rapidly assumed leadership of the investigation along with the Department of Homeland Security through FSD Stewart and TSA. Although detection dogs were the best, if not only, line of defense in this type of situation, the TSA didn’t have any to deploy on short notice. As such, Logan and his team retained primary responsibly for sweeping the airport for explosive devices and associated components. They hadn’t wasted any time starting the process.
Ariana found Logan near Gate 8 and fell in step beside him. He glanced at her without slowing. “What are you doing?”
“Sergeant Vasquez has Max to give him access to restricted areas. I’ll do the same for you.”
“Trevor’s with me. We can manage.”
She’d debated leaving Trevor to do it. Then she wouldn’t have to be near the dog, possibly in confined spaces. But this was a serious matter and it was her responsibility. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—delegate it.
They both fell silent as they listened to the announcement over the public address system, advising passengers that a security exercise was under way. With no time to waste, they carried on. Boomer was already hard at work and, with little guidance from Logan, moving at a rapid pace. He was thorough, checking passengers, goods, luggage and storage spaces.
Ariana walked toward a children’s play area and came to an abrupt halt. A young mother was holding her infant on the seat of a small s
eesaw, while a toddler grasped a monkey bar and bounced up and down with a happy gurgle. It terrified Ariana to think that someone could be so depraved as to set an explosive specifically targeting children. She did a careful visual inspection of all the components, forcing a smile for the young mother. For an instant, she second-guessed herself if she should have ordered an evacuation of the airport, as a precautionary measure.
No. Based on the intelligence they had, it wasn’t warranted. Everyone present had agreed.
All seemed to be in order, but Ariana was still relieved when she saw Boomer approaching. She stepped back so the dog could clear the area. Boomer was oblivious to the children, who squealed excitedly at seeing the animal.
“He’s a police dog,” Ariana told the anxious mother. “He won’t hurt your kids. We’re running a drill.” She repeated what had already been communicated. Even with the added assurance, the mother lifted the infant and, taking the other child by his hand, led them to a seating area.
Ariana rejoined Logan and Boomer. They were inside a retail shop when there was a loud rumble and an unmistakable vibration, strong enough to cause the glassware on the shelves to rattle.
Logan’s arm shot out in front of Ariana to bring her to a stop.
It was eerily silent for a few heartbeats, before panic ensued.
People were yelling and running. There was general chaos.
In near unison, they yanked out their phones. Ariana called Trevor. “Do you know what just happened?”
“Yeah. A bomb detonated.”
She’d presumed as much, but hearing it confirmed caused a cold dread to slither up her spine. “Is anyone injured?”
“I’m with one of the SWAT guys, not far from it.” She could tell he was running based on his breathing. “I can see it now. It doesn’t appear that anyone’s hurt.”