Page 68 of The Devoted Game

Careful not to touch anything, he leaned down and peered at the way the bomb was attached to Trenton’s chest since there was no tape or strapping visible.

Not seeing a thing, Ryan tried to work his finger between the timer and Trenton’s chest, but his skin seemed attached to the device. Then Ryan got it. Glue. Something powerful like ... superglue. Maybe the same glue the unsub had used to trap Katherine Jones in that freezer.

“Smart bastard,” Ryan griped under his breath. Why couldn’t he have gotten a stupid unsub?

Trenton groaned. Ryan straightened, reached up, and started to peel the tape from his mouth. Trenton’s eyes snapped open. He tried to scream, jerked and bucked in a futile attempt to break free.

“Don’t move, Dr. Trenton,” Ryan urged, drawing his hands away from the man in hopes of calming him. “Don’t move!”

Trenton stilled, but his eyes were huge with fear.

“My name is Ryan McBride and I’m with the FBI. Help is on the way. There’s—” The readout on the digital timer jerked his attention there.

59:38

What the hell? A minute ago it had displayed more than three hours and fifty-odd minutes to go. Now there was less than sixty minutes? Ryan’s tension shot to a whole new level of anxiety.

Trenton started groaning and doing that wiggling-jerking motion again.

The timer went into fast-forward.

“Stop!” Ryan glared at him. “Don’t move! There’s a goddamned bomb strapped to your chest. Every time you move, the countdown speeds up.”

The man froze except for the sobs muffled behind the tape still partially covering his mouth.

The timer displayed three minutes eleven seconds and ticking down.

Holy shit!

Desperation cutting off his air supply, Ryan dug out his cell phone and called Grace. “What’s the ETA on that bomb unit?” His heart thumped harder with each word.

Grace’s words echoed in his ear like a death call. The bomb unit was more than five minutes out.

Ryan lowered the phone, let it fall to the floor.

They were fucked.

As if he had said the words out loud, Trenton’s sobs grew more frantic.

Ryan met his gaze. The terror there twisted his gut.

This man, God complex or not, was going to die if Ryan didn’t do something. Being in a church wasn’t going to make one damned bit of difference. They were on their own.

Ryan damned well refused to give up without trying. He considered the design of the bomb again. C-4 required a detonating charge. Any detonation required a power source. No power source, no detonation of the igniting charge. No igniting charge, no boom.

Simple. All he had to do was stop the process.

He wished for a cigarette and a drink, but he’d just have to wait until he was through here. A tremor jerked his hand as he reached out to the battery. Each piece of this thing was glued to Trenton’s chest, so there was no moving any one part. He had to defuse it by cutting the wires.

Too bad he didn’t have a knife.

1:46

And all this time he’d thought he was prepared carrying a condom around.

Okay, what were his options?

He could try pulling the wires loose.