3
Dr Morgan Sierra stood on the edge of the bomb crater at the center of Trafalgar Square. The air was still thick with dust and she coughed a little, trying not to inhale too much. She ran her fingers through her dark curls and shook her head as she looked down at the destruction below.
The red alert code had beeped on her phone just after dawn and it had taken her less than two hours to get here from her home in Oxford. In that short time, an enormous tarpaulin had been erected over the scene, protecting what lay beneath from the prying eyes of the media. The military guarded the perimeter of the crime scene and the central city was in lockdown. After all, Buckingham Palace and the government buildings of Westminster were only a block away.
The sound of helicopters buzzed overhead wit
