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CHAPTER 22
PLAN A
Adam
I have been broken before. Bones cracked. Skin lacerated. Foreign objects penetrated my body and scorched the muscles, nerves, and skin.
This hurts worse.
Reese hasn’t called or texted… with good reason. I try not to think back to our text messages and all the selfies she’s sent. Her sweet, fair skin dusted with the faintest of freckles. The way her green eyes held such light, and I knew it was just for me. I close my eyes and listen to the sound of her voice. It was matched with the sweet coffee smell. Curse my anger for throwing my phone and smashing it before I could extract the photos.
I can secretly get more, it’s been done before, but I don’t want to hide from her. I want to grab her by those slender thighs and lift her so she squeezes them around my body. Press my body into hers so she knows what she does to me. My tongue wants to touch every inch of her, tasting her, savoring her. I want to hear her voice before I go to sleep and I want to sense her breath evening out as she falls fast asleep safely in my arms.
I want her. Period.
But I can’t. It’s not fair to her. This fucked-up mind and fucked-up life. I can’t do that to her.
I made a plan with Kevin for taking DuPont down, yet I can’t bring myself to follow through with that promise. He has such acute tunnel vision that he missed the cracks he made in his notes. His wall was riddled with mistakes and minor adjustments, but the overall vision board he created was messy. Instead of including him in the actual plan, I gave him a job to do and a temporary assignment. Three days for him to plan and focus on the make-believe task. Last night, I could only faintly hear some yelling. No screaming or thrashing around. It’s a small win. Military people need to have a job and a purpose. That purpose and plan help keep us sane. It’s the order we were trained to develop.
I could see that in Kevin, even if he was left with nothing like me. He will not be a part of DuPont’s undoing. His only mission now should be to continue protecting Reese.
I knew exactly when this mission changed from revenge to protecting her. It was the moment my lips touched hers in front of the food truck. I didn’t know the wall could crumble at just the slightest touch.
I got up this morning before Kevin woke up, needing to get a jump start on my plan. I jotted a note so he wouldn’t stray from the plan with worry. I also couldn’t be there to watch him walk out the door to go see her.
I drive into the city, ready for the start of the end. I walk into the city waste department to my locker and pull out a jumpsuit. Putting it on, I nod to the men who sit around drinking coffee. Coffee. Such a beautiful substance that doesn’t mix well with trash. You can smell the vile garbage all around and there is no amount of air freshener that can cover it.
“Hey, Dave!” A coworker nods.
“Hey.” I nod back to him. Jim is an older man who has been doing this for a long time. He’s taken me under his wing these last couple of weeks. Says he sees a lot of potential in me. I have to laugh… potential.
“Ready?” he asks.
“Yeah.” I grab my small cooler from my locker and we head to the rig. I climb in and we drive through the city.
Most of the morning, we stop at small businesses around and pick up dumpsters to empty. Today’s route takes us past the coffee shop, and there sits Reese, talking nonstop to Kevin, who I can tell is letting her vent. I’ll send the keys to the cabin to him when this is all over. A thank-you for distracting her and being her outlet. I won’t need it after today.
Fuck, she looks pretty, even with puffy eyes.
We continue to go to business after business, picking up the discarded food and shit left by people. Turning the corner, Jim drives us down into a lower parking deck. I get out of the rig to talk to the security guards and show our credentials as we’ve done before. They wave us through and I climb on the back of the rig, holding on as Jim navigates through the parking deck to the dumpsters. He pulls up and starts hooking up the dumpster to empty. I climb down from the back and pull out a set of keys from my pocket to open the trunk of a car near the dumpsters. I grab two small duffel bags and walk back up to the front of the rig. When I open the door, Jim is nervously smiling at me.
“Here is the second half of your payment.” I drop one bag on the seat. “There is a bonus for you in the cooler. Take Susan on a friendly date.” He still looks around with concern, and I’m happy to soothe his anxiousness. “Jim, nothing will be tracked back to you. I’ve made sure of it. Wish you well, my friend.”
I shut the door and walk next to the rig as it pulls away. Just as I had hoped, Jim sticks to the plan. The truck stalls out and I dip to the maintenance room, unseen. The position of the truck is essential to staying under the radar of security cameras. I wait as he starts the rig up and continues. I can hear him yelling at security. “City gives me the shit trucks all the time! I need a freaking raise!”
They laugh along with him. A beautiful distraction, allowing me to break into the large maintenance room with ease. The room is filled with air vents and wires. I wait until I am sure the rig has left and the security makes another round. This takes a couple of hours, but I don’t mind. I replay everything that I need to do in my mind as the seconds tick by.
Finally, my watch buzzes, signaling its time.
I stand and walk over to the air vents and strip off the jumpsuit and tuck it behind a unit. I take the second duffel bag and toss it over my shoulder so it crosses my chest. Opening a vent, I take a couple of deep breaths before I jump up and pull myself up into the vent. I have to take my time crawling up and around the maze of this interconnected ventilation system. I’ve spent countless hours memorizing the route, so, I know it will take time to get to my destination. Slow and steady, so no one hears.
Sweat beads off my brow, and it drips all over my body. Crawling takes more time than I imagined, but I finally make it to my destination… the thirty-fifth floor.
I push open the vent cover and look around. All the crews have left for the day. I look down at my watch, 1745 hours, and I am behind. Starting my process of destruction, I place small blocks of C-4 by the pillars near the elevators. The strongest part of a building. This is my backup plan. Throwing the duffel bag on the ground, I pull out yards of rope. I set my anchors to the concrete floor and stitch a clove knot to support my weight. Turning to the window, I walk toward it and stand like Superman or Batman overlooking his city. Masked for security and hell-bent on taking on the bastards who threaten all that is good in this world, I take out a glass cutting knife and suction cups from my bag. Cutting a large hole in the glass, I pull it back and gently place it on the ground. Plan A means coming back up to this floor. Plan B—means everything falls.
I walk back to my anchored ties and pull up my harness to strap myself in. Grabbing my two guns, I holster them in place. One on my leg and a Velcro one on my chest. I am facing the now open window and I remind myself… slow, steady, focus, endgame. My mind is all about my breathing. Calm and collected.
One. More. Deep. Breath.
