Detective Dakota and The B-Bomb Scene One

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“Finally.” I said sighing with relief. The plane roared as it took it’s first steps

into the sky. “It seems we are a little late, should I push tomorrows meeting to the day after?” said Mya Slava, my assistant. “No, I shall arrive on time. Wake me with my coffee two sugars and one milk Mya.” I mumbled sleepily. We had been at the Manchester airport for six hours before we got out flight and I was just about tired out. I had checked my pager then blacked out.! ! “Your coffee sir.” Mya hands me my coffee. I take a sip and scald my throat

with the hot rich brown liquid. “I’m so sorry sir!” Mya exclaimed. She reached for some napkins and patted the coffee droplets away. I did not like the fact that I had been transferred to America. Tensions were high everywhere and being in one of the most populated states in a very hated country did not help my nerves. “Have a new suit brought to me freshly pressed Mya” I didn't mean to always be so bossy and harsh to the girl but she must learn early that being methodical and precise has its advantages. I paced around the room, my face a mask of curiosity, why had I been transferred here, I was doing just fine back in England. My lab needs me and there are no particular reasons I am aware of, that dictated the movement of Mya and myself. ! ! Fiorello H. LaGuardia Airport is not the most pleasant place. It combines

many things that I find to make situations quite grueling. The bustled activity smelled of people with bad hygiene and food with even worse. I observed that

Detective Dakota and The B-Bomb Scene One

there was an area near baggage claim where the limo drivers were stationed. I had walked briskly over with Mya trailing me with our luggage. Quite heavy actually but Mya was a strong girl and my bones are getting a little bit too old for this. I looked for the man with the sign that said Dakota Tracey on it and found it within seconds. My observational skills need improvement.! ! We were at the hotel when I got the call. The speak had a deep gravelly

voice that had said “You better watch out because B is back in town.” Stupid kids I had muttered. Later realizing that only a select few knew my American phone number. A few minutes later I got another call. I was tempted to ignore it but Mya informed me it was the mayor. “Good evening Mr.Mayor, How may I help you.” I had said. “The chief of police wants to see your right away, there is an emergency. Level 3.” Level three? The last time there was a level three in America was on 9/11. “Mya lets move.”! ! We arrived on the scene with open minds. That’s the key to crime scene

investigating. I look up and see the World Trade Center 1 silhouetted in smoke. “What happened here?” I asked the nearest officer. “Someone tried to blow our tower up… Eyewitness stated that ‘A u-haul truck screamed around a corner and sped into the truck entrance on a sublevel floor’ and then u-haul turned into udust.” I had paced around the scene making a mental picture of the crime. I looked into the horizon when I notice another crime scene thirty meters away.

Detective Dakota and The B-Bomb Scene One

“What’s that?” I asked the officer. “It was the second explosion that was heard. I’m not sure what it is though.” He replied. I jogged over to Mya and told her to follow me to the other crime scene. We walked over to the similarly cordoned off area ducking under the caution tape to see something that made me stumble, and my brain whirls like a rocket. It can’t be. A gigantic B was blown into the floor.