Chapter 31 - Slash and Burn

The morning passed in a blur of preparations. As she loaded the truck, the plan began running through her head. She couldn't shake the feeling she had missed something. She called Sticks to make sure everything was in order. The feeling did not dissipate. Checking her gun, she realized what was wrong.

"The security guard," she said aloud.

"What about him?" Gage looked up, continuing to assemble his gun.

"What happens to him? He's not one of Cavuto's regular guys. I'd be surprised if he knows what it is he's guarding. According to the pictures, he never goes past the office, and then only to use the bathroom."

He said nothing.

"So what happens?" she demanded. "Does he die because he works for the wrong guy?"

"He might."

"It's not right," she protested.

"And killing the others is?"

"He didn't rape and kill my sister. He shouldn't have to die for the bastards who did."

"What happened to your assertions that life is not fair?"

"That's different. This is probably a regular guy with a regular job, and I don't want to be responsible for his death."

"It is good to know you have a conscience."

"I'm not a total psycho," she huffed. "So what do we do about this?"

"I will take care of it," he assured her.

"How?"

"Do not worry about how. If he does not attempt to shoot me, I will not kill him. Will that do?"

"I guess it'll have to."

"Good. Then check your gun again. You stopped looking at what you were doing."

"You aren't looking."

"I do not need to – but I am looking. I am good at doing two things at once, and I have done this many times, far more distracted." He looked at her gun. "We cannot afford to have an equipment failure."

"I thought there was always that chance."

"There is. Which is why I want you to check again."

She sighed and started the process over. The plan mantra returned. This time it sounded right.

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Nicky stared at the phone. Her fear was irrational. Everything would work out. She dialed the number and waited for the call to pass through. She could track the filters he had in place, but had no reason to do so. Yet.

She had never liked dealing with his kind. They were all smiles and assurances on the surface and ruthless as hell underneath. Working with them was the ultimate crapshoot. If you rolled snake eyes, they denied any knowledge of you. If you did well, they tried to tie a leash to you so they could spend the rest of their lives jerking your chain. So far, she'd avoided that, but this was higher up and deeper in than she had ever gone. Maybe there was some logic to the fear after all.

"Talk to me." They were all curt when no one was looking.

"It's on for tonight." Two could play that.

"I need your assurance this will work as you've promised."

"I didn't make any promises. I presented you with an opportunity. If it doesn't work out exactly as planned, you're going to have to improvise." Another trap sprung and avoided.

"I don't like making things up as I go along. It always backfires."

"It's a little late to be thinking of that." She wanted him on the defensive. "You know what sort of operation this is."

"And you know what's at stake," he replied.

She wasn't taking the bait. "So do you. If you don't hold up your end of this, your career is shot and my friends will kill you. So I wouldn't be so quick with the tough talk. I'll do my part. They'll do whatever they do. You need to be able to respond fast, or bring in a proxy right now who can. You've got three hours, so I hope you know someone who lives close and looks good on camera."

"You're a real bitch."

"And you're a stupid motherfucker if you just figured that out."

"We're done talking."

"We'll be done talking when you pay me."

"The deposit is set for midnight. That's the last contact I expect to make." He hung up.

Nicky exhaled and slumped back in the chair. She had made sure he was fired up enough to do what needed to be done, and scared enough that he didn't want to collar her. All she could do now was wait. Her computer pinged, telling her airline tickets were waiting, a small precaution in case things didn't work out well at all.

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Shift changed at eleven o'clock. Everything needed to be in place before then. Gage sat in his truck, looking out the windshield. Deira carried the box of explosives. She had thought to have it painted black. Given enough time, she would take care of the little details as a matter of course. He shook his head. She would not need to learn that.

He glanced to the bushes where they had hidden the pickup so Sticks could observe without interfering. It was almost impossible to make out. The situation was less than ideal, but nothing could be done about it now.

Deira set down the box and began filling the pockets of her vest with bombs. He could not imagine being willing to do that. She had dressed all in black, her hair tucked into a baseball cap pulled low over her face. When she stood in the shadow of the trees, she practically disappeared.

His phone vibrated. She was ready. He got out of the truck, laid the case on the seat and took out his rifle. The tripod was already in place, though he would have to check the footing again, in case she had bumped it. She was headed down the hill by the time he made it to the spot. She did a perimeter check when she neared the bottom. Fear mingled with pride, however misplaced, as he observed her. It would irritate the hell out of him if she got herself killed.

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Deira stopped at the bottom of the hill, staring at the side of the building. This was it, the end of everything. She took a deep breath and strolled across the parking lot. There were no cars on this side, which meant less chance of being seen. And fewer places to hide if she was. She'd never been much good at hiding anyway.

The first six bombs were placed easily. No water or gas pipes to worry about. The seventh proved a little trickier. She tried not to think about how close she was getting to the office. This was where it got dicey. The backup plan provided small comfort. She wasn't entirely sure Sticks would go through with it. She desperately hoped he wouldn't have to. The ninth bomb presented a problem. It wouldn't stick. She gave up and leaned it against the side of the building.

The office door banged shut. She turned, hand going for her gun. One of Cavuto's guys had stepped outside for a smoke. She didn't take the time to try to identify him. Slipping the final bomb out of her pocket, she tossed it towards the office and backed away. It landed shy of the wall, half under some flowering bush that had seen better days. It would have to do.

She was almost out of his line of sight when he turned. He threw his cigarette down and walked towards her. Shit. She took the cell phone out of her pocket and pretended to dial, making sure she did not come near the buttons. She began pacing, each trip taking her a little further away from the building. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the guy approaching. At least he wasn't pointing a gun at her. Yet.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing here?"

She recognized the voice. Danny had been promoted. Fear surged through her, instantly replaced by anger as her bruises throbbed. She kept her head down, staring at the phone. There had to be another way to do this.

"Good. Someone who might help. Where the fuck is Bobby Gonzalez?" she snarled.

"Who? You can't be here, lady."

"Yeah? Well tell that to Bobby. He stole my fucking car while I was at work, left me a note saying his wouldn't start. Like I care."

"You need to leave."

"Fine. Just tell me where my car is. I'll jack it and he can walk home. Then he can collect his shit from the sidewalk and get the fuck out of my life. Loser."

"I don't care about your car or your boyfriend. Get the fuck off this property or I will shoot you in the fucking head." He drew his gun.

"Oh, god!" She didn't have to fake the fear. "I'm sorry, okay? I'll go. But I got dropped off here and I don't have any way home."

"Not my fucking problem."

"Well, can you at least have your rent-a-cop drop me off at the entrance? That's a long walk before I can even start hitchhiking."

"Again, not my problem. Just turn around and walk away."

"Okay, I'm going." She held her hands up, still clutching the cell phone.

He intercepted her as she tried to pass him. "Then again, maybe you should stay. We haven't had any fun tonight, and you look like a whole lotta fun." He reached for her hat but she sidestepped.

"Yeah, so much fun Bobby got himself another girlfriend on the side. I'm kinda spoiled on men right now."

In the distance, the security guard stepped out of the shack. He walked around the side of the building. A car pulled up by the gate. The guard returned and leaned over to speak to the driver. He looked her way, got in the car, and left.

Danny said something. Shit. She had let herself get distracted.

"What did you say?"

"I said that by the end of the night maybe you'll find the right man." Danny said.

"Yeah, right." She knew who the right man was. "Like that's gonna happen."

"It's gonna happen if I want it to," he said, pointing the gun at her.

"You gotta be kidding me," she said. "This night keeps getting better. First my loser boyfriend, and now you thinking a gun makes you a man. Please."

"Let's take a little walk." He grabbed her arm.

"Fine. Whatever." There was no point in resisting. The timing was bad. "You can let go of me. I'll come with you. After all, you've got a gun."

He released her. "I guess that beats your cell phone, huh?" He laughed.

"Seems that way."

They had gone five steps when the fire alarm went off.

Danny jumped and swore. "What now?"

"I think maybe your cigarette set a fire." She stepped back. "I'm not going into no burning building."

He turned his head, trying to spot the fire. She punched zero on her phone and the tenth bomb went off, taking out the side of the office. Danny dropped his gun and bent to pick it up. She drew hers and placed it at the back of his head.

"Don't even try it, asshole."

"You aren't going to shoot me." He reached for the gun.

She pulled the trigger before she could prove him right. He dropped to the pavement. She took off running and did not stop until she made it back to the trees. Sticks stepped out and poured water over her head.

"What was that for?" she hissed.

"Spatter," he said. "But I brought it in case you set yourself on fire."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." He had missed the sarcasm. "You okay?"

Her body shook. "Yeah, fine."

"Then finish the job." He handed her a dry cell phone.

People were streaming out of the building, most of them running for their cars. One of Cavuto's men raced out of the office, looking first at the empty guard shed and then at Danny's body. He said something into a cell phone. Then he looked right at her, raised his gun and began firing.

She dove to the ground. Another bomb went off. She didn't know which number she had hit. She looked up. Number seven, of course. She hoped no one remained in that part of the building. She hadn't missed the gas line after all. A column of fire shot upwards.

The rain of bullets ceased abruptly. She sat up, punching the rest of the numbers in proper sequence. She turned to Sticks, sure he would give her grief for screwing up, but he wasn't watching. He wasn't moving at all.