She looked bored.
"Miss Morgendorffer -- may I call you Daria?" Franklin started out.
"You may," Daria replied.
"Daria, can you tell me why you attempted to purchase 20 pounds of C4 off of our undercover agent?"
"Because I didn't realize he was an undercover agent."
Franklin put his hand to his forehead. She was one of THOSE.
Before he could reprimand her, she spoke up: "I needed it for a science project. Say, do you have the time?"
Caught off guard, Franklin looked down at his watch. "It's about four minutes until 11 AM, Daria. Now, what kind of science project do you need high explosives for?"
Daria was silent for a moment. Franklin looked at her file -- she had high marks in intelligence, but had mostly devoted her efforts to writing. After graduating from Lone Star University, she had mostly submitted short stories to literary magazines while she worked the sports beat for the Highland Journal. It didn't seem to add up.
"Have you ever killed a man, Agent Franklin?" Daria asked suddenly.
The hairs on the back of Franklin's neck rose. Warning sirens inside of his head screamed, 'UNABOMBER! UNABOMBER!'. "I can't say that I have, Miss Morgendorffer," he answered, sliding back into the formality of last names. "Have you?"
"Not yet," she replied with a sigh. "Listen, can you let me go now? I kinda have stuff to do."
Franklin was stunned at the woman's gall. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but we generally don't just release people who attempt to purchase enough explosives to bring down a skyscraper. It's a little thing called Homeland Security."
Daria nodded. "It doesn't really matter, I'll be leaving soon anyway."
Franklin's stomach began to do a slow somersault. "Let me guess, your lawyer. Well, Daria, I don't know if you're aware, but the latest iteration of the PATRIOT Act allows me to hold you indefinitely -- no judge, no lawyers, no rights, unless you cooperate." Franklin really didn't like playing the PATRIOT Act, it made him feel excessively dirty, but Daria's unusual behavior had him feeling very uneasy.
"What time is it now, Agent Franklin? I mean, the exact time."
"It just so happens to be 10:59."
"Ah, not too long then."
"Do you care to elaborate on that statement?" Franklin asked. Either Daria was dicking him around, or...
"Do you know about the water in Highland, Agent Franklin?" she asked.
"I can't say that I do."
"For over two decades, it's been contaminated. My mother drank of it when she was pregnant with me and, as a result, I cannot bear children."
"Contaminated? Contaminated with what?"
Daria hesitated a moment.
"Uranium."
Franklin's watch read 10:59:59.
XXXX
A gigantic mushroom bloomed over what used to be Washington, DC. Over a hundred thousand people died from the initial blast, including the President, Vice President, most of the Cabinet, and Congress. Prominent landmarks, private homes, hospitals, fire stations, all were felled with equal prejudice. Where the buildings had not been utterly destroyed fires raged, consuming wood, paper, cloth, flesh -- anything flammable. Thousands who had survived the blast lay trapped beneath rubble, or writhing in pain from massive burning, or wandered blindly, calling for help. The nation's capital had become hell on Earth in under a minute.
XXXX
The second the lights went out and the room began to shake, Daria leapt forward and drove her thumbs into Franklin's eyes. The man screamed aloud before passing out from shock a moment later. In the dark, she felt for his wallet, keys, and service pistol, then hurriedly pulled off the jumpsuit, stripped Franklin of his suit, and put it on. She figured if she stowed her glasses and made her voice sound husky, she could pass for a fresh recruit. She ran to the door (which opened to her touch with the failure of the electrical lock) and ran out, hysterically shouting "The prisoner's escaped!" She knew it would send nearby agents in a wild goose chase, and so quietly pressed herself against the wall as she heard footsteps rush past her, men shouting, displaced air from bodies puffing against her.
She felt her way through a few corridors until she finally found another door and opened it. The room once had a large window with a view of the capital. Now, its former occupant lay dead, having bled out from several shards of glass embedded in his body. Daria ignored that, though, as the urban wasteland outside burned. She approached the window and stuck her head out looking for the tip of the mushroom cloud, but the building was overshadowed by its cap so it was a futile gesture.
Daria backed away several paces, then seized up a wastebasket and proceeded to dry heave into it. After several minutes of this, Daria spat a few times to get the taste of bile out of her mouth and left the office. She had to keep moving and get out of the city, reach a working phone. She had 12 hours until the next bomb went off, and she didn't want to deviate from the plan any more than necessary.