“Yeah, I suppose that kind of seems like his style.”

A couple of minutes later, a red-faced, out-of-breath Mo runs back into the warehouse and hands me the small box containing my toolkit.

“That’s great. Thank you,” I say. “Now, take Astra and get out of here.”

“Still not going,” Astra says, defiantly folding her arms over her chest. “Nice try though.”

I sigh and feel time slipping by. Every second feels like a hundred-pound weight being added onto my shoulders. I don’t have time to stand here arguing with Astra any longer.

“Fine. Stay,” I say. “Mo, get Paige and get to cover a safe distance away.”

“Are you sure?” she asks.

“Positive.”

Mo hesitates but, no doubt feeling the pressure of time herself as well as my fraying patience, turns and runs out of the warehouse, leaving me with Astra.

“Why are you being so defiant?” I turn to her and ask.

She shrugs. “It’s my nature.”

“Not funny. Benjamin will never forgive me if I let something happen to you.”

“Do you know what your sister, the international assassin and pretty much the baddest woman on the planet, would do to me if I let something happen to you?” she responds. “Yeah. I’m not here for that, so let’s do each other a favor and defuse these bombs, huh?”

“Please, Astra,” I say. “I wouldn’t ever forgive myself if something happened to you.”

“Then you better make sure nothing happens to me because I’m not going anywhere,” she replies flatly. “Now, can we get to work and save these kids?”

“For the record, I don’t feel good about this.”

“The bright side is, if we blow ourselves up, you won’t have to live with the feeling long.”

“That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

“It’s really not,” I say and open the toolkit. “Okay, let’s get to work.”

I pull the Phillips screwdriver out of the box and quickly pull the first screw out of the device’s face plate. Sweat is streaming down my back, and I feel it beading up on my forehead. My heart is racing like I’m in the middle of a hundred-yard sprint and my hands are shaking, making it difficult to line the tip of the screwdriver up with the screw. Astra puts her hand over mine and looks me in the eye, a sober expression on her face.

“Take a breath, Blake. Focus,” she says.

Closing my eyes, I draw in a breath and hold it for a ten count, then exhale. I feel only marginally calmer, but I suppose it’s better than nothing. It’s not like I have time for a full-on meditation and chakra cleansing session or anything.

“You got this,” Astra says.

My hand a little steadier, I slip the head of the screwdriver into the screw channel and begin to turn it, then stop as a thought occurs to me.

“You okay? What is it?” Astra asks.

“It just hit me that we need help.”

“You think?”

“I think I know where to find it.”

“Will they get here in time?”

“As fast as we can make a phone call,” I say.

Setting the screwdriver down, I pick up my phone and quickly punch in the number and wait. The line rings, and a moment later, Lieb Tal’s face fills the screen.

“Chief Wilder,” he says in his usual sober tone. “What is it? Have you found Ashley?”

“We have. But there’s a problem—”

“How can I help?”

I turn the phone so he can see the device attached to the lock, then turn it around so he’s looking at me again.

“We need to defuse this device. It looks like if we try to cut it off the lock, it will detonate,” I tell him. “Please tell me you have some experience with explosives.”

He nods. “I learned a great many things in the IDF.”

“Good to know,” I say with a heavy breath of relief. “So, what do we do?”

“The first thing you must do is make sure there isn’t a tripwire behind the face of the device,” he says. “If you pull that facing off and there is a tripwire behind it, removing it without disconnecting the wire will set it off.”

I glance at Astra, who looks as alarmed as I feel. “This is may be the best phone call you’ve ever made,” she gasps.

“Right?” I reply with a slight tremor in my voice. “Okay, so walk me through this, Lieb.”

“First, you must carefully remove the facing. Typically, you will have a couple inches of play in the wire behind it, so take out the screws and then very gently pull the facing off just enough to allow you to see behind it.”

“Copy that,” I say. “Astra, hold the facing while I pull out the screws.”

She nods and moves herself into position with hands on either side of the facing. I set the phone down so Lieb can see us as he helps guide us through this minefield. I pull the screws out and let them fall to the concrete flooring. When I have them all unscrewed, I give Astra a nod, and with trembling hands, she gingerly pulls the facing back an inch. When there’s a big enough gap for me to see inside, I lean close and shine my flashlight behind the device.

“I see it. You were right, Lieb. There’s a yellow wire that runs from the facing to the device itself,” I tell him.

“That’s likely your tripwire,” he says. “Can you see where it is plugged into a circuit board inside the device itself?”

“I do.”

“You have to unplug the tripwire from the circuit board,” he says. “And you have to do it very carefully. Be gentle. Do not yank it.”

“Copy that,” I say. “You okay, Astra?”