Chapter 7
Jax forced his breathing to slow down, shutting out the rising panic of the wealthy guests who were now pressing frantically against the locked double doors. He knelt in total stillness, his tactical training overriding the adrenaline flooding his veins. Sweat beaded on his forehead, rolling down past the edge of his dark, slicked-back hair, but his hands remained steady as a surgeon's.
He leaned closer to the silver box, his eyes scanning the complex matrix of microchips and soldered connections. The anti-tamper switch was a tiny mercury vial mounted on a spring balance. If the box tilted even slightly, the liquid metal would bridge the contacts and complete the circuit.
"Lily," Jax said without turning around, keeping his voice remarkably calm and quiet. "I need you to take three very slow steps backward, sweetie. Just like walking on ice."
Lily didn't panic. She blinked slowly, her big dark eyes locked onto Jax’s face. She didn't scream or cry. With the solemn dignity of someone twice her age, she took three deliberate, measured steps back, her cream-colored ruffle dress whispering against the floor.
"Good girl," Jax murmured softly. "Now keep going until you reach the nurse by the exit. Don't look back."
Lily nodded once, her high bun bobbing slightly, and turned to walk toward the safety of the heavy doors where the nurse knelt to scoop her into a trembling embrace.
With Lily out of the immediate blast zone, Jax turned his complete attention back to the explosive device. The blinking red light on the small black transmitter pulsed at a steady, rhythmic interval. Beep. Beep. Beep. Each pulse represented a second ticking away from their lives. But as Jax studied the casing of the transmitter, he noticed something peculiar. It wasn't wired into the main detonator circuit as a primary trigger. It was a secondary communication relay—a two-way receiver communicating with a local frequency within the building.
That meant the bomber wasn't miles away watching through a camera feed. They were close enough to use a localized radio frequency. They were inside the secure perimeter.
Jax reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a heavy-duty tactical field analyzer, a small handheld diagnostic tool used to sweep for encrypted signals. He pressed it against the side of the black box and hit activation. The screen flickered to life, scrolling through a rapid stream of hexadecimal data before locking onto a single, high-bandwidth signal pulsing from the upper mezzanine overlooking the ballroom.
Jax looked up toward the shadowed arches of the second-floor VIP gallery.
Standing half-concealed behind a concrete pillar was a figure holding a heavy-duty military tablet, their face illuminated by the cold blue glow of the screen.
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Jax stood up slowly, the explosive forgotten for a fraction of a second as his eyes locked onto the figure on the mezzanine. The man on the balcony realized he had been spotted, lowered the tablet, and turned to bolt into the labyrinthine hallways of the upper level.
***
