After seeing the two kids turned over to the local police, she had driven around the Boston area, trying to check the most likely spots for an attack. It had been a waste of gas and effort. There was nothing to see except happy people enjoying the beginning of their three-day weekend. Everywhere she went, there were families and food and music and just plain fun. Everywhere she went she pictured death and destruction, mangled bodies and screams of agony. Even when she returned to home base, she had sat in the communications center until dawn monitoring the “chatter” on the sites they knew were frequented by the Sons. Nothing. They’d gone to ground once they knew Noah and Jill were plants. How they had figured it out was still a mystery. With the more urgent matter of the imminent attack, there had been little time for her to spend pondering what had gone wrong. There were others digging into the matter and she itched to join them because it was personal. If there was a mole in their organization, he or she had caused Haley’s people to be hurt and killed.
