Chapter 26 - Chain Reaction

The two men followed her in. She ignored them and inspected components laid out on a table. She glared at Sticks, then cleared a space on another table.

"I was told you wouldn't be back," he said.

"There's no reason to let it get like this." She waved her arm to encompass the work area.

"She's a neat freak," Sticks said to Gage.

"I would not have guessed."

"You should have what you need, sugar. How 'bout you make a Baby Bella?" Sticks turned to Gage. "Watch this."

Deira pulled her hair into a ponytail, put on a pair of latex gloves and began arranging components. Her movements were sure and efficient. Her focus did not waver. This was not a demonstration. She connected wires, twisted them in intricate patterns, and flipped the small package over to insert the fuse. She finally looked up.

"These aren't the right detonators."

"They'll do," Sticks said.

"No, you cheap bastard, they won't do. I don't like them. I don't trust them. So find me the ones I do like."

"I may not have what you want."

"Bullshit. You did know I was coming back, so you stocked up on things I prefer. Gage has a list. I want everything on it."

"She's a little pushy sometimes." Sticks shrugged.

"I have noticed."

Deira glared at both of them, turning the small bomb over in her hands. Sticks looked at her and left through a side door. She turned to Gage.

"You said you would leave this to me. I'm the one who has to set the explosives, so I'm going to do it my way."

"I am not the one standing in your way, princess."

"Then back me up."

"It would be foolish of me to do otherwise. You are holding a bomb."

"Without a detonator." She held up the device.

"Without the one you want. There is something that would do close to hand, yes?"

"Yes." She frowned at the clunky parts Sticks had brought her.

"Then you have my full support."

"Gee, thanks."

Sticks returned, set a box on the work table, then retreated to the far wall. Deira went back to work. Making bombs calmed her. She ignored how wrong that was.

"She's the best I've ever trained," Sticks said proudly. "Fastest, too."

The row of small packages grew in front of her. She continued building the deadly devices until she ran out of components. There would be plenty to do the job. She did not affix the detonators.

"I have not seen explosives like that," Gage said.

"That's because she designed these. They're small but beautiful." Sticks spoke with reverence.

"Easy to carry yet capable of blowing the hell out of a building. Well, properly placed, anyway." Deira glanced up. "So one of you should get the blueprints out."

Sticks cleared another table and began unrolling blueprints. Gage pulled up the images of the warehouse on his laptop and left Sticks to study them. He walked across the room until he had a clear view of the door, his truck, and Deira.

Watching her work was fascinating. Her movements had a rhythm, a strength of purpose, a sense of certainty. In her element, she was fearless. He knew he could not keep her out of danger. Certainly not on this job. Probably not ever.

She finished checking the packages and moved on to inspecting detonators, making a pile of those that were acceptable. She walked to a set of shelves and moved things around, coming back with a small box. She lined up the detonators, added extra wires and a pair of needle nosed pliers. She looked up. She was bruised and hung over, but her eyes were shining and her smile was brilliant. He had never found her so beautiful. He knew better than to say so.

She joined Sticks. "You have schematics for the gas and power lines going into this place?"

"Of course. Your friend was thorough."

"Yeah. He's known for that." She looked over at Gage. "Come here. I want to go over this with you."

"We need the sprinkler system to go off in order to clear the building. The only exit not padlocked is the loading dock, so they'll head out that way. If we start a fire in the office, it should trigger the sprinklers throughout the warehouse. I'd rather not use an explosive to do it because it would tip our hand. I don't want them locking people in to keep us from blowing more."

He nodded, looking at the blueprints.

"So I'm looking for suggestions," she prompted.

"I am thinking. Give me a moment."

"Take all the time you need." She turned to Sticks. "I'm not taking the explosives with me. I'll call you and arrange for a drop location."

"Now, see, that's not fair. I was thinking I'd like to see your first big job."

She looked up to see Gage's reaction to the idea, but he had left the building. She cleaned up her work station while she waited for him to come back. She examined the bombs, knowing they were the finest she had ever made and probably the last she ever would.

"I believe I have a solution to the sprinkler problem," Gage said from the doorway. He put away his phone as he crossed the room. "Nicky will arrange to have them malfunction."

"How?" she and Sticks asked at the same time.

"It turns out Cavuto never disabled the connection to the security company that installed the system." First the whorehouse, now lax security. Gage would not be the only one gunning for Cavuto's boys.

"Great, so they get an alert and we've got cops everywhere."

"That is what would have happened. Nicky is going to hijack the connection and set the sprinklers off herself."

"The timing will have to be exact," she said.

"The timing on all of this must be precise, or we will all be in trouble."

"God forbid we should get in trouble for blowing up a building and shooting people."

"I would prefer if neither of us ended up in prison."

"Any of us." She looked over at Sticks. He leaned against the table. He'd been standing too long. The strain of it showed on his face.

"Excuse me?" Gage's opposition to the idea showed in the set of his shoulders.

"Sticks wants to be there."

"No." At least he wasn't pacing.

"I'm not planning on getting in your way. I just want to see this. Think of it as a graduation ceremony," Sticks said.

"I think of this as a job. And it is already too complex for my taste."

"I'm not gonna screw with your plans. I'll sit back and watch. Besides, I don't think you want explosive residue in your truck." Sticks crossed his arms, unable to hide a smug smile.

"And you do?" Gage raised one eyebrow.

"I have a license to blow shit up. I do demolition jobs all the time. They'd have a hell of a time separating out all the kinds of explosives that have left traces in my truck. And it's a lot easier to run my truck through the car wash than to steam all the carpeting in the back of your SUV."

"Sranje," Gage muttered.

"He hates it when other people are right," she said.

"I will contact you with the information as soon as it is settled," Gage said.

"You mean you'll call me the day you plan to do the job so I can't sell you out or otherwise fuck it up," Sticks replied.

"Do you blame me?"

"Not at all." Sticks straightened. She moved around the table to help him, but he shook his head.

"We're done here." Gage turned away.

She stepped over to Sticks, handing him the cane that had been leaning on a table. He tucked it by his leg where it couldn't be seen.

"You did good work, baby."

"Thanks, old man."

"Be careful," he warned, nodding towards Gage's retreating back.

"Too late," she said.

"You'd better catch your ride."

"Someday you're going to have to tell me what made you let me go so easily."

"It was simple. I didn't have a choice." Sticks leaned on the cane.

"You weren't the only one." She turned away from him. Gage sat in the truck, engine running.

He kept quiet on the ride back. She wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. As the lights of the city approached, she turned to look at him. He didn't seem upset, but it was always hard to tell with him. Until it wasn't.

"So, what's next?"

"I am taking you home."

"Okay, but we can we stop at the supermarket first? I need some things."

"Certainly. I need to pick up something for dinner, as well."

"No, you don't. I'm cooking tonight."

"I am taking you to your place, not mine."

"Yes, I got that. And strangely enough, my apartment has a kitchen in it. I am making you dinner tonight. I promised you I would, and I keep my promises. Time is running out, so there's no point in arguing with me."

"There rarely is."

"It was so much easier when you ruled by fiat, wasn't it?"

"What makes you think that has changed?"

"Woman's intuition," she laughed.

"I would not rely on that," he said.

"That's because you don't have it."

She had refused to tell him what she would be cooking. He resisted the urge to look in the refrigerator while she showered. It was not the only urge he resisted. He made coffee, put the paper in the recycle bin and sat down at the table to wait. She emerged a few minutes later, wearing a T-shirt and shorts.

"Are those mine?" he asked.

"Souvenirs," she replied and set about making dinner.

He got up and poured himself another cup of coffee. The tantalizing combination of garlic and ginger made his mouth water. She chopped vegetables, throwing them into a pan where they sizzled and popped. He realized he had never seen her use a knife. The same comfort and efficiency he had seen in the bunker were evident. She knew her strengths.

"You're cheating," she said, stirring the vegetables and adding meat.

"It was not the food that held my attention."

"Right. Because I'm so hot in this outfit."

He smiled at her. "I was admiring your cooking skills. You have been holding out."

"There's no way you would have let me take over in your kitchen and you know it."

"I might have."

She snorted in response. He walked into the kitchen and pulled out plates, setting them on the counter next to her. He washed the cutting board, dried it, and rubbed it with salt. She snickered. He ignored it and washed the knife while she filled their plates.

"Thank you for dinner," he said when they had finished. "It was excellent."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. Dessert will be better."

"I do not eat dessert," he said.

"I know."