Just Another Job (32 page)

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Authors: Casey Peterson

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BOOK: Just Another Job
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Frank put together the plan and pulled
inside. He scanned the parking lot. Johnykin figured it out too and
did the same. With three sets of eyes it didn't take long. Johnykin
spotted it first and Frank sped up to reach before she could finish
saying 'there.'

Frank put the brakes on hard as Chris jumped
out with the GPS in hand to face another black SUV.

“It's not the same model,” said Frank.

“Doesn't matter,” said Chris with his back
on the pavement looking for a good spot underneath the carriage to
stick the tracker to. The magnet held it securely to the frame and
Chris squirmed out from beneath.

“We'll go around the back streets of the
mall before getting back on the freeway,” said Frank.

“Sure,” said Chris. “But we need to stop at
RadioShack first.”

“The fuck why? I don't care if they're
taking their time to get us we don't have time for shopping.”

Chris pulled out the USB. Frank groaned as
loud as he could and drove to the back of the mall. They parked and
rushed out.

He hurried them inside and jogged to the
RadioShack store. Chris went through the shelves as fast as he
could, grabbing a soldiering kit, wires, screwdrivers, and any
other possible piece he would need. He handed them over to Frank
and pointed to the register to keep things moving.

The speed of everything didn't give Frank
time to dissect what they were doing and he felt uncomfortable in
his position as a follower to Chris. Not to mention the implied
notion that he would pay for everything at RadioShack today.

Chris threw down a roll of electrical tape
on to the counter. “That’s it.” Everything else was rung up and the
cashier scanned the barcode before whispering the final price to
Frank who already had a death grip on his credit card. Chris shoved
everything into a black duffel bag he found in the SUV. The whole
process took less than five minutes, but they had no clear idea how
far behind Erik was and so nervously searched the crowd as they
hustled back to the SUV.

Frank unlocked the doors and Chris dove into
the back seat. He grabbed something and jumped back on to the
pavement where he began tearing off his clothes.

“What the hell are you doing?” said Frank.
He opened the door and stood on the ledge to peer over the top of
the SUV.

“Changing,” said Chris, and once he was down
to his underwear scooped up the Super suit and put it on. Fully
dressed again, Chris ran around the back of the SUV to Frank. “I’m
driving; you’re changing in the car.”

Frank handed the keys over. It was getting
easier to follow Chris’s orders but not by much. Johnykin threw the
other Super suit at Frank as he moved to the back seat. Before they
could close the doors, Chris put the SUV in gear and peeled out of
the parking space. The movement jolted Frank and Johnykin back in
their seats and Chris’s continued aggressive driving made it much
more time consuming to change.

Like Frank advised, Chris took the long way
around a couple back roads to get past the mall and onto the 205
freeway again. There was no sight of Erik or any other black SUVs
trailing them. Frank finished getting the suit on and climbed to
the front seat. Johnykin was dressed too and leaned forward in the
middle of them.

Johnykin and Frank spoke at the same time,
“What’s —“

“We go to X-Tech and tell them there's a
reported bomb threat. Then we hijack the internet and TV broadcasts
to show everyone the video about the true Supers.”

Chapter
Twenty-Three

The X-Tech headquarters was a repurposed theater
downtown, modern accoutrements from energy-efficient windows to
expensive security cameras popped up every few feet. Johnykin
elongated her neck to its furthest point in her lead through the
automatic glass doors. Chris and Frank flanked her with their
chests flexed and sticking out like Olympic demigods.

The first impression was key, as Chris told
them before leaving the SUV. At the moment, he proved right. The
receptionist at the main lobby entrance gawked and unceremoniously
hung up on a customer seeking assistance. She then reigned in her
feeling of awe to become as helpful as possible in assisting the
impressive figures before her.

“Good afternoon. How may I help you
gentlemen and miss?” said the receptionist.

Johnykin smiled weakly at the passive
aggressive question. Then she stepped forward to the half-moon desk
and placed her knuckles on the polished granite. Johnykin leaned
forward to come within inches of the now embarrassed
receptionist.

“We don’t mean to startle or panic anyone
—or you —here, but we have a very reliable source telling us a
terrorist has planted a bomb inside the building,” said
Johnykin.

“A what?” said the receptionist now pale
along with embarrassed.

Chris walked up to put himself shoulder to
shoulder with Johnykin and placed a bag on the desk. “Call security
or the manager in charge and tell them to evacuate the building as
calmly as possible.”

“Okay,” said the receptionist, and picked up
the phone again. She eyed the bag.

“Tools for bomb disposal,” said Johnykin,
and stayed to watch over her complete the call. Chris moved away
from the desk to talk to Frank.

“I don’t know. What if they’ve changed the
security programs to something I can’t get around? What the fuck do
we do then?” asked Frank. He bit at his nails and stared down the
incoming employees.

“Then we plug the USB in to any computer
here and at least get it on to reddit like the original plan,” said
Chris.

“Look at them. I don’t recognize anyone
here. They must have been getting rid of people constantly. Finding
bullshit reasons to fire everyone.”

“Probably. That doesn’t matter unless it
helps you right now. Come on, we have to do a search and lock this
place up.”

Chris ushered Frank back to Johnykin, who
was waving off the receptionist. They stood tall again at the front
desk, pushing the play to as believable a point as they could.

A man in a suit stopped to talk to Johnykin.
“When are the bomb squads or rest of the emergency services coming?
There’s no one outside.”

Johnykin smiled and grabbed the man’s hand.
“Sir, we’re Supers. We are the first responders. This should be
taken care of in a relatively short time with the least bit of
inconvenience towards you and your company. If we need backup,
they’ll come.”

“Okay,” said the man. He wasn’t convinced
but walked out and immediately went to his cell phone to make a
call.

With the man in the suit taking up the rear
of the exiting crowd, Frank followed behind him. The man waited on
his call due to Frank’s towering torso eavesdropping just behind.
At the entrance, Frank disabled the automatic sensors and forced
the two panes of thick glass together and locked them. He gave an
inspired thumbs up to the crowd outside looking back in. The man in
the suit had his phone to his ear now and was directing everyone
away from the building just in case his suspicions proved
unfounded.

Chris made his way past the cubicles and
open rooms searching for any stragglers. Frank caught up to him and
did the same, looking under desks and around corners. Johnykin
stayed at the front desk. She grew more nervous after each passing
minute. The floor gripped her feet in place as her mind ran through
the scenarios of what might be in store for them in the preceding
hour.

Once Chris and Frank finished skimming the
first floor, Chris realized Johnykin hadn’t joined them. He jogged
back to the front where he found her staring into the grey stone of
the receptionist’s desk.

“Hey, Johnykin,” said Chris. She didn’t
respond. He grabbed her shoulders to pull her gaze away from the
murky reflection. “We gotta get away from the door. We need you to
stand guard in the basement.”

Johnykin pulled Chris into a tight hug. Her
hands dug into his back as she cried into his shoulder. Chris
squeezed her gently in return. He needed to get them to the
basement to start, but he also needed Johnykin alert and focused on
watching his and Frank’s backs. Chris waited for her to release and
after a long minute the crying stopped. She pulled back to wipe the
tears but gave one last quick hug as a silent thank you.

Chris held Johnykin’s hand to add some extra
assurance towards the immense gambit they were about to try to pull
off as he took her to the basement entrance where Frank waited
impatiently.

The basement was just a broken lock away and
down a short series of steps. The X-Tech building kept it’s storage
on the second floor and to help with cooling costs, kept all the
servers in the basement. All three made their way down to a chilly
room with metal cabinets housing thousands of computers designated
solely for access points to the World Wide Web and as a
distribution of television services to the majority of the West
Coast.

Johnykin stayed next to the stairwell as
Chris and Frank moved past the columns of powerful technology.

“They might have moved the terminal. I
haven’t been down here in forever,” said Frank.

“Then we find the new location,” said
Chris.

“Here,” said Frank, stopping at one of the
towers.

“That was easy. They can afford to fire us
but not move a tower,” said Chris. He handed over the black bag
with the contents of their shopping spree at RadioShack. Frank
pulled out a giant flat head screwdriver and forced it into a
flimsy lock on the metal panel. A sharp wrench of the tool snapped
the lock and swung the panel open. Chris grabbed the screwdriver
out of Frank’s hand and took the bag back too. He shrew the
contents of the bag across the floor before starting the
reassembling of the USB drive to a workable state. Frank pulled out
a tray from the tower with a laptop fixed to it and began his
work.

From Johnykin’s position next to the stairs,
she could only make out part of what Chris and Frank were doing.
She looked back up the stairs. What good could she do down here,
she thought. There was only one way to get to the basement. If she
was already inside, others would be inside too before she could
stop them. Johnykin moved decisively up the steps and back to the
first floor.

She was at a better advantage to see
everything but had nothing to defend them with from a gun-wielding
Erik. Stepping around the cubicles and finding the same cheap desks
and computers sprinkled with the usual personal paraphernalia
didn’t offer any help. There was a second floor, she thought. But
how much time until Erik showed up? An hour or two, maybe.

Johnykin ran to the back of the building,
figuring a door to the second level had to be in the vicinity. Away
from the main entrance and thinking back on the basement, she felt
the building fell short of its initial modern visage. Eventually a
door with a just as primitive lock appeared. She sprinted and flung
her body shoulder first into the metal obstacle. The lock snapped
and she stumbled to keep her feet under her as another set of
stairs, leading up, appeared.

Back in the basement, Chris worked furiously
to put the drive back together. The metal USB plug snapped off
during or sometime after the plastic casing was destroyed. Chris
couldn’t remember when now, but the process wasn’t as complicated
as he once imagined. He could solder the plug back on and the drive
should work perfectly. The plastic casing was pointless.

“I need about twenty more minutes,” said
Frank. His eyes were glued to the screen.

“That’s fine. I’ll need about the same.”
Chris looked up to watch Frank’s progress. It was extraordinary to
see Frank processing information in a language almost completely
foreign to Chris.

Chris’s imagination took over from this
thought. In his mind, he plugged in the USB drive and the video
streamed out to the millions of televisions and web enabled devices
connected to X-Tech’s servers. The three of them would walk out of
the building to applause and possible cheers from the waiting
crowd. But it didn’t stop there. Chris’s mind went further. The
three of them would go on talk shows to tell their story, and then
Chris would write a New York Times bestselling book about it all.
Erik would face a lifetime sentence for the murders of Klaus and
Carmen.

The dreamy fog grew thicker. Klaus and
Carmen were dead. Chris saw the bloody corpses in his mind. They
seemed more grotesque than he remembered. Blood was smeared over
their faces and they were already beginning to rot. Wait, thought
Chris. What am I doing? That’s not what happened. None of what he
had been thinking had happened or would happen. It didn’t matter,
either. But then Chris saw Frank and Johnykin riddled with bullets.
Erik stood over them laughing.

Stop, Chris screamed in his head. He felt
his imagination tugging in the back. It whispered Sadie, Gerry,
Louise. Chris closed his eyes. It was dark except for blips of
light. The thoughts faded, but the lights were swirling into the
images whispered by his imagination. He focused on the idea that
should have been front and center and that was ahead of everything
else earlier. The light formed into the broken drive, but then
jumped quickly to Frank and the computer.

Chris opened his eyes. “Shit.”

“What?” asked Frank not daring to look away
from the screen.

“There’s no port. There’s no port for me to
plug into the USB.”

Frank stopped and pulled his head down to
look at each side of the laptop. “Fuck!” He attempted to pry the
laptop from the tray but it was bolted down.

“Hold on, don’t break the damn thing. I can
attach the drive manually like in Syria.”

“Shit, I lost my train of thought. I still
need time to break through the security and open all the lines to
do a remote take over.”

“And I need to attach the wires to create a
link and now that we’ve said everything we should do…” Chris went
back to work.

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