AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The guy thought he was meeting a former Marine with a history of mental health issues but a strong understanding of explosives, but the real Marine had long since been put into psychiatric care and his dark web profile was dead. Clay hijacked it as his own, with no one the wiser.
After exchanging a few credentials, dropping some keywords that would make his claims of wanting the same outcome—in this case, a church full of people dead—the meeting was a go.
When the Buick with a red front corner panel turned the corner, he remained calm. He wasn’t going to make himself known quite yet and watched from the shadows. A man climbed out of his vehicle.
In khaki pants and a sloppy T-shirt, the guy could be any twenty-something. Only this one had an investment portfolio he used to fund hate crimes.
Clay held back a snort of derision as he watched the skinny kid cross the street to the building Clay leaned against, putting himself in plain view of the cameras he controlled.
Blackwillow73 was so confident he was untouchable that he didn’t even glance around as he used a key to access the place.
He ran through the next steps. He was supposed to knock twice and wait thirty seconds before knocking two more times.
These dumb criminals think having a secret knock will shield them. Read too many comic books.
After pausing for a minute or so, he looked around before stepping up to the door. He tapped twice and began counting to thirty. After the second set of knocks, the door opened just a crack.
Nobody stood there.
He let himself in. His limbs felt disjointed from his body. That was the stimulant and sleep deprivation making him feel like he was tweaking. He might seem off on the outside, but in his mind, he was completely alert, engaged and aware of everything he did.
He found the vacant office space on the right, then he strode in, his stare locked on the man seated on a cardboard box.
Clay damn near laughed.
“NtotheWyld?” the guy asked.
He gave the kid a solemn nod.
With a confident smile, he pushed off the box and extended a hand to Clay.
He pumped it once before dropping it and bracing himself in front of the door—the only exit besides the windows. A fluorescent light flickered overhead, making Clay think of horror movies, but this meeting was far darker.
“You need explosives?” Clay’s voice sounded as rough as he felt.
Blackwillow73 nodded, sinking to his seat on the box again.
“What are you looking for?”
“I’ve done a lot of research. The church in Atlanta was taken down with a vehicle-borne IED.”
In other words, a vehicle packed with explosives.
“I want something a little fresher. Make a different statement, ya know?”
Clay kept his expression neutral.
“I’m thinking something portable that can be left inside the door. A package or a bag. This church is smaller, but it’s brick.”
Clay’s nod came off a bit jerkier than usual. The effect had blackwillow73 relaxing even more, at ease that Clay was in fact a bit off his rocker.
“The type of structure matters in these things.”You fucking little shit-wad.
“You say you know your way around the material.”
He fidgeted with his watch, making it look nonchalant though it gave the impression he was who he said he was—a fucked-up war veteran who shouldn’t be playing with explosives.
One who definitely shouldn’t be dealing explosives to guys who lived to hate.
