Brian hands me a portable screen.
“What’s this?”
“It’s our video feed as soon as I catch the signal and get it turned on.” It takes him only a couple of minutes and then I’m looking at the bomb on the unfinished floor. I take a deep breath. We’re really about to blow up a whole bunch of people.
Brian gets out the car and comes around to my side to retrieve me.
“I need to be able to see the building.” He finds a spot for us on a small hill a few yards behind the car in the gravel lot.
The Stryker building is pretty tall, but there are obstructions in the way of our view from the seasonal decorations.
He goes back to the car, opens the trunk, and takes out a pair of binoculars. “Do you want to watch the fireworks?”
He reaches me again in several long strides and passes them to me. I know he doesn’t mean the actual fireworks. He’s letting me get the best view of the building blowing—just another romantic gesture on our first murder date.
Brian puts a finger to his lips, and I realize he’s listening to something. He’s got an earbud in his ear.
“Targets are in the conference room.”
“I want to listen.”
He gives me the wireless bud from his other ear, and I can hear the men talking. It’s all stupid shit right now. Something about some ‘piece of ass’ at a strip club. And then they all laugh like a bunch of frat boys. I wish we had live video feed of them so I could watch these gross assholes blow into pieces. Thoughrealistically the camera would blow, too, so I probably wouldn’t see anything. I pass the screen over to Brian, and he pulls out a remote. A small light flashes red and I see an echoing flash of red on the screen.
“It’s got the signal,” he says. “Ready?”
I nod. I am out on a job with Brian. I am out blowing up a building with Brian. This is so weird. I wish we were doing something more exciting than just remote blowing a building, but I’m already nervous even doing this. Why wasn’t I this nervous when I went to rescue Brian at Easter?
Some sort of Beginner Badass Bravado?
Brian presses the button and we both watch as the red digital clock numbers flash and a fifteen minute countdown begins. He sets his own watch to match the countdown and then puts the portable screen back in the car.
I have the binoculars in my hands but I haven’t looked yet. There won’t be anything to see for a while.
I take the earbud out of my ear and hand it back to him. “Listening to them speak makes me want to give them a more violent end.”
That’s an understatement. There is no part of me that wants to listen to these slimy men talk for the next fifteen minutes, though admittedly it might be fun to listen when theystoptalking.
Brian nods and puts it back in his ear.
I pace back and forth on the grass. Finally I get bored and decide to use the binoculars.
SEVENTEEN
brian
“Oh God, no!”
Mina drops the binoculars and takes off at a run.
“Mina!” I shout. I’m torn between chasing her and picking them up to satisfy my curiosity. Despite all my better instincts, I pick them up and look up at the top floor of the Stryker building.
Fuck.
There’s a small boy—about five years old—with tousled brown hair. His face is lit up with excitement as he watches the fireworks through the floor-to-ceiling windows from the conference room, his hands pressed against the glass.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I run after her. “Mina!”
