“Captain Cutler, this is Murdock. Can you hear me?”Michael Cutler’s voice buzzed over the connection. “Loud and clear, Murdock. Now give me eyes on what you’re seeing.”She went back into the sterile white computer lab to find both Quinn and the sergeant examining the briefcase bomb with flashlights and an assortment of tools. A lump of worry caught in her throat to see the contrasts between the two men. Rafe, the team’s explosives expert, was suited up from head to toe in protective armor. But Quinn had only whatever protection the flak vest and his tailored wool trousers could provide. He wasn’t wearing a helmet. Heck, he wasn’t even wearing his glasses. Instead, they lay on the tabletop beside the case while he leaned over, his face mere inches from the bomb itself.But none of that was what the captain wanted to hear. She swallowed the lump and relied on her training to get her through this. “Sarge and Mr. Gallagher think they can disarm it. They’re removing the firing pins from the C-4 blocks.”
