A Danger to Himself and Others: Bomb Squad NYC Incident 1 by J.E. Fishman Page B

basement door and proceeded toward the upstairs bedroom, pausing to listen patiently after every few steps.
    Manis found Littel passed out in bed, his head at an angle that suggested drunken sleep. He was snoring loudly with his good arm extended across the queen-size bed. The prosthesis was not in the bedroom, so Manis walked gingerly to the bathroom down the hall, where he found the arm lying atop a clean towel on a shelf.
    This was perfect—just perfect. He wouldn’t even need to risk using a flash.
    Manis closed the bathroom door and took a tape measure from his coat pocket. He extended it eighteen inches and laid it parallel to the arm on the table, then snapped a series of pictures, making sure to get all sides and every angle.
    By one o’clock he had gone and Littel still lay sleeping, none the wiser.

 
     
     
     
    TICK, TICK, TICK, TICK, TICK, TICK, TICK,
     TICK, TICK, TICK, TICK, TICK

3.
    DAY TWO—Light
     
    ATOP THE PUTTY-COLORED FILING cabinets in Lieutenant Capobianco’s office stood a collection of framed pictures: his wife, his parents, his daughter at various ages, as well as pictures from his time on the force, the earliest one showing him on the street as a beat cop and the latest at a ceremony in the Chief of Detectives’ office when he took the reins of the Bomb Squad. There were piles of paper and manila files everywhere, but the tops of these cabinets seemed to be the boss’s one sacred space.
    Diaz found it odd, getting called into this office by Kahn instead of Cap. He waited for the sergeant to close the door before taking one of two battered guest chairs. Kahn must’ve felt funny, too, as he didn’t go near the back of the desk. Instead, he pulled the other guest chair sideways and faced Diaz from there.
    “The lieutenant asked me to speak with you.” Kahn took a deep breath. “About your behavior yesterday in front of the cathedral. I told you I was going to have to put it in the report.”
    “And the lieutenant read it?”
    Kahn shook his head. “He’s sick as a dog. I don’t think he’s reading many reports just now. For the Times Square thing, yes, but not for false alarms.”
    “So how’s he know what went down?”
    “I had to tell him.”
    Diaz crossed his legs. “Thanks. Thanks a lot.”
    “You knew I’d have to.”
    “No way. You said you’d have to put it in the report. I got that part.”
    “Well, you can’t act out of turn like that and expect a superior officer not to say something. What if you did it again and weren’t so lucky, got yourself blown up? Hell, got someone else blown up?”
    Diaz nodded. “I get it. You’re covering your ass. Don’t expect me to be pleased about it.”
    “It’s got nothing to do with pleasing you, Manny. It’s got to do with your behavior. You can’t go around doing shit like that. I explained it to you yesterday.”
    “You explained it yesterday. So why are we here in Cap’s office with the door closed?”
    “Because you’re being issued a reprimand.”
    Diaz rocked his free foot in silence.
    “A letter will be put in your file.”
    “Great. Who’s applying the reprimand—you been deputized?”
    “Not exactly. The lieutenant will do it when he gets back, but he wanted you to be aware ASAP so it doesn’t happen again.”
    “To protect yourselves.”
    “To protect the public!” Kahn tented his fingers. “Look, Diaz, you know what they say about every new bomb tech in the first twenty-four months: a danger to himself and others. It’s our own version of a little bit of knowledge can be dangerous.”
    “I ain’t some rube, Kahn. I got more than a little bit of knowledge. I’ve disarmed more IEDs than…” Diaz caught himself, swallowed.
    Kahn dropped his hands to his thighs. “Than I have. That what you were going to say?”
    “Than anybody here, probably.” Diaz gathered himself. “I don’t mean it as disrespect. I know this is a different theater than a war zone. Just saying I’m not all green,