Day 95, Chapter 95
I think I’m now on some sort of federal watch list after my Google searching in regards to today’s chapter. But I did learn that blasting caps thrown into a cooler or a cardboard box filled with newspaper will not detonate when someone rings the doorbell.
I kept my eyes on the front door of a dreary house on an old shoe of a block that might be the last thing I’d ever see. I rapped on the door – no answer. I rapped even harder. No answer again.
Then I decided to rap as hard as I could:
Step out, Lipstick muthaf**cka,
LB’s comin’ straight from tha underground,
bad bitch with a glock an’ a badge,
gonna lock you up an’ take yo ass downtown.
I turned to Conklin and shrugged. Then I reached out and pressed the doorbell.
I heard Conklin shout, “No, Lindsay, NO!” and at that moment there were two loud explosions, a nanosecond apart.
The air cracked open. The ground lurched, and I was knocked off my feet. It was as if I’d been hit by a truck. I fell hard to the ground and was lost in a dense cloud of black smoke. I inhaled the bitter taste of cordite, coughing until my guts spasmed.
Again, as far as I can tell, there were no actual explosives inside either of the containers Pete set up as traps around his home. In Chapter 91: “He dropped the bell ringer (from the dismantled doorbell) and one of the (blasting) caps into the cooler, walked it out to the curb, and put it next to the mailbox.” It’s pretty clear that JPatt didn’t do his research here – although, I’m not sure how he thought this set up would work. Was it supposed to be that when Lindsay pressed the doorbell, Pete would have it rigged to remotely detonate the blasting caps? But blasting caps themselves carry very small incendiary charges and are used to detonate larger devices, like plastic explosives or dynamite. Even if the doorbell had been rigged as a remote control, the caps themselves wouldn’t have carried much of a charge – they certainly wouldn’t have caused the destruction depicted. All of this information was found in a 20 second Google search, for which I am probably now flagged by the US government, so thank you very much, Mr. Patterson.
I peered through the smoke and saw my partner lying fifteen feet away. I screamed, “Ritchie,” scrambled up, and ran to him. He was bleeding from a gash on his forehead.
He put a hand to his head and said, “I’m okay. Are you?”
From vulnerable, weak, screaming woman to cynical, f-bomb-dropping bad-ass in 3 seconds. My hat’s off to you, JPatt. Amidst the chaos, Gordon drives out of the garage in his car, holding his son up as shield. Lindsay orders everyone to hold their fire and she approaches the car. Pete has the last, profound word in the mess that is Chapter 95:
“Stink bomb,” he said, “say hello to Sergeant Boxer.”