TOM OWENS DIDN’T like being alone with Ellis Warrenton in Pry’s beat-up pickup truck, which felt like Ellis
had claimed as his own after Pry’s arrest.
Overall, Owens was feeling more confident than yesterday, when he’d endured the threats and abuse from Ellis
because he had no choice. Since then, he’d made a few adjustments that he felt would secure his safety if things
went sour.
But sitting in the passenger seat of the older pickup truck wasn’t one of the places where Owens felt secure. In fact,
this whole plan around planting a device on the detective’s car in a public parking area didn’t make Owens feel
confident at all.
He’d spent much of the evening digging through the NYPD administrative computer files. He’d attempted to crack
the investigative and intelligence files, but they were behind a much more secure firewall and on a different server.
The administrative files, however, had been easy to hack into. Admin files were accessed by so many people, they
couldn’t be behind firewalls.
He’d immediately found out that Bennett drove a blue Chevy Impala that appeared to be due for a tune-up in the
next thirty days. It looked like the NYPD had a strong preference for buying Ford Crown Victorias, Chevy Impalas,
Chevy SUVs, and Ford Explorers. Owens wondered if there was any reason, other than tradition, for the d epartment
to buy such gas- guzzling vehicles.
Ellis was fidgety; his hands couldn’t ke ep still on the steering wheel. He slowed the truck as he pulled up in front of
the building they’d briefly surveilled yesterday. They hadn’t seen the Chevy then, but they’d arrived
much earlier today. There weren’t nearly as many cars around the building or in the lot under the elevated tracks.
Ellis craned his neck in every direction. “I don’t see his damn car anywhere.”
Owens could hear an edge of panic in Ellis’s voice. He wondered if the snobbish leader of their little group wasn’t
having second thoughts about a plan this bold. Owens himself questioned if saving Pry was worth the effort.
He wondered if Ellis was now figuring his own odds of being arrested. This plan felt like it had an air of
desperation. Sure, it might help Pry’s criminal case, but the long-term implications seemed more important.
Owens pointed toward the elevated tracks. “Isn’t that Bennett’s car parked over there?” He liked the spot. An
explosion here could do a lot of damage. Owens figured the firebomb would be so powerful that it would probably
even affect the elevated tracks, which would probably have to be evaluated before any train could travel on them.
Ellis swung the truck around in a wide arc. As they approached the parked car, he turned to Owens and said, “Are
you ready?”
Owens nodded silently.
Ellis said, “I mean, once I stop, you only have a few seconds to do your thing. Are you ready with everything you
need?”
Owens realized he needed to give Ellis a verbal r eply. “I’m ready. Pull in next to the driver’s side. It should take less
than thirty seconds.”
As soon as the truck came to a stop, Owens opened the door, jumped out, then dropped down on his knees and
peeked under the Impala. He’d already looked up the schematics online, so he knew exactly where he wanted to
place the bomb. He used a clip to attach the bomb to the driver- side rear spring, coiled over the tire and next to the
gas tank. Then Owens ran the wire to the driver’s door. He secured the wire and checked the device. The next time
the door was opened, the contacts would s eparate, and after a couple of seconds, the bomb would detonate and also
ignite any gas in the gas tank.
He still wanted to see the explosion, but he wasn’t sure how to convince Ellis it was important.
It felt like the only thing Owens looked forward to anymore was seeing his devices detonate.