Chapter 89

Every agent stood, hand on his gun. Lennon and Rada rolled their eyes at each other. What did the agents think the guns were going to do? Lennon’s mouth might be dry as sand, but at least he knew shooting an inanimate object wasn’t going to get them anywhere.

Ben was the first to approach the cart, holstering his gun and moving forward slower than any sloth. Lennon had to sit on his own hands to keep himself from stopping him. He didn’t think the cart was rigged to explode but thinking it and knowing it were two different things. Still, someone had to do something, and Ben was the bravest one of the bunch.

He carefully reached out and yanked the lid from the dish, jumping back as though he expected an explosion. Jumping back wouldn’t save him, but Lennon supposed it was instinct. Fortunately, no explosion gave Lennon the chance to think of all the possible I told you so’s