A sickly sweet smell that reminded her of marzipan.
Her husband had once told her that plastic explosive smelled like marzipan.
She guessed that the bomb was about fifty pounds.
There were two red lights on it, and one of them had begun to flicker madly.
Donna took a step towards it.
In the back of the Orion, Mackenzie pressed the red button on the small control panel.
The explosion was thunderous.
Even seventy yards from the cottage the car was showered with debris.
Mackenzie didn’t bother to look back; he merely slid the control panel back inside his jacket and nodded to his driver.
The car moved off, swallowed by the night.
‘Whom God wishes to destroy, he first makes mad . . .’
Euripides.