Infiltration by Kevin Hardman Read Free Book Online

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    Alpha Prime brought the SUV down in a deserted, unkempt parking lot that had riotous weeds sprouting up through numerous cracks in its surface. Looking around, it became obvious almost at once that we were in a deserted area of town: boarded-up buildings, streets in a state of utter disrepair, huge swaths of vacant land littered with rubble where structures had been torn down.
    All in all, it looked like a bombed-out war zone. Urban blight at its finest.
    Alpha Prime actually held the vehicle aloft just a few inches from the parking lot surface, making me think that perhaps he felt actual contact with the ground here would soil his tires or something.
    “Hey, Einstein,” he shouted from above me. “You want to turn the engine off?”
    For a second I didn’t know what he was talking about, and then it struck me that, even though I hadn’t been driving, the SUV was still cranked up. I switched it into park and then turned the engine off. A moment later, my father set the vehicle gently on the ground before floating down beside my door.
    I stepped out of the car, not even trying to hide my excitement. I didn’t even know what was going on here, but just getting to tag along on a real mission had my blood pumping.
    “So,” I said, practically rubbing my hands in anticipation, “what are we doing here?”
    “You see that highway over there?” Alpha Prime asked, pointing.
    I looked in the direction indicated. About half a mile away, I could see what appeared to be a deserted stretch of highway, including an overpass, although the area — like much of the neighborhood we were in — was dimly lit. In fact, the primary source of light in closest proximity to us was the SUV’s automatic headlights, and even those winked off after a few seconds, as if afraid to draw attention in our current surroundings.
    “I see it,” I said, telescoping my vision and switching over to the infrared at the same time. “I also see some construction equipment — a bulldozer, a backhoe and some others.”
    “They’re working on the highway, extending a portion of it to this part of the city. The hope is that ease of transit — among other things — will make the area attractive again to businesses and residents.”
    “Good luck with that,” I scoffed. “You’ll have better luck teaching a fish to ride a bike.”
    Alpha Prime ignored my comment. “There was supposed to be a construction crew out here tonight working on the highway, but the police received an anonymous call saying there was a bomb on that overpass. They checked it out, confirmed there was a device, set up a perimeter, and then sent for me.”
    “Perimeter?” I asked. I looked around and noticed about a half-dozen sets of flashing red-and-blue lights, all spaced equidistant from the overpass. (Thankfully, their sirens weren’t on.)
    “Yes, a three-mile radius,” my father said, pointing out the squad cars. “That puts them a little farther out than us. I’m surprised you didn’t notice them before.”
    I didn’t say anything. In truth, however, I had actually seen the flashing lights when my father was transporting the SUV here, but didn’t assign any special significance to them at the time. Since the mayor had recently threatened to fix the city’s budget problems by furloughing government employees (including cops and firemen), I had just assumed that they were all doing their part to raise revenue by issuing traffic tickets.
    “If it’s just a bomb,” I finally said, “why do they need you? Why can’t the bomb squad take care of it?”
    “Well, it was identified as a bomb by whoever initially called the police, and they think that’s what it is. But it doesn’t look like a conventional device, so no one knew what to do with it.”
    “And that’s why they called you.”
    “Correct.”
    “Okay, so what do we do now?”
    “Actually, ‘we’ don’t do anything. You’re going to wait in the car —