Jake’s Dream Come True
By Billy_Ray77
Chapter 21
The next day we all had classes so breakfast was hurried and consisted of nothing more than coffee and toast. We did have a brief discussion about how to come by false identification and agreed that we would all check with our various acquaintances to see if anyone had a source they could point us to.
We met for an early dinner at a cafe near the campus late that afternoon.
“No dice,” reported Kirsten, looking over a menu, “one freshman I talked to did have someone, but when he showed me his, it was awful. Cut and paste.”
“I found out where I can get you a term paper,” said Mike, “even copies of most exams, but no quality ID’s anywhere.”
“I struck out too.” Said Samantha.
“Ditto.” added Tiffany.
“Shit,” I sighed, “I even peeked into the heads of a couple promising looking guys I didn’t know and still came up empty.”
We tabled the discussion while the waitress took our order and brought us our drinks.
“I did have an idea though, “offered Mike, “there a several forums and chat rooms devoted to anarchy type sentiments, if anyone can point us towards quality fakes, it would be someone there.”
“How hard would that be?” I asked, “I can’t imagine they would give up their secrets to just anyone.”
“And,” said Tiffany, looking at her man with concern, “I don’t think those are the sorts of places you want to traced back to you.”
“No problem there. I can run through some anonymizers and spoof some IP’s. That would make it nearly impossible to trace – in fact, I’m pretty sure I can do it in a way that will make it foolproof. But it will take some time. I would have to participate for a while before bringing up something like that. I can’t just pop in and start asking for illegal shit. They would peg me for a cop, or at least an informant.”
“How long do think?” I asked, taking a sip of my Mountain Dew.
“A few months, probably.”
“That’s longer than I’d hoped.” Said Samantha, “Couldn’t you just do your magic and trace a couple of the other participants so we can visit them with our personal Svengali here?”
“Anyone worth contacting would be covering their tracks, just like I will. It wouldn’t be easy and likely result in our popping in on a bunch of folks who have no idea what the hell is going on.”
“Well,” chimed Tiffany, “If anyone can pull this off, it would be my lovable genius. If it’s gonna take some time, then it just is what it is.”
“It will give us more time to practice Jake’s blind act.” offered Kirsten.
We took another break when the waitress brought our orders, then conversation took a back seat to eating for several minutes.
“I’ve been thinking about the dog idea,” I said, when my initial hunger had been slaked enough to stop chewing for a few minutes, “I think we should get a few. If for nothing else, the girls need protection.”
“What about you guys?” Asked Tiffany, indignantly, “Why are we the only ones who need protection?”
“That’s a little sexist,” said Samantha, “don’t you think?”
“I thought you were pragmatic.” I said, “think about it. I have my special talents, and I’ve gotten pretty good at mixing it up. I know you’ve seen Mike in competitions, would you want to go up against him? I know, I know,” I added as the girls started to protest, “You’ve all come a long way in your own strength training and martial arts. Don’t get me wrong, it could save your life and I don’t want any of you to drop a thing. But, Kirsten, with your speed and agility you are a force to be reckoned with on the sparring mat, but how long do you think you’d last in a full contact match with Mike?”
“Considering he outweighs me by well over a hundred pounds, has an arm reach nearly as long as my leg and is a second degree while I’ve just got my first, I’d have to admit it would take him less than ten seconds.”
“And, he’d be ready for you, so that really wasn’t a fair comparison. Actually, the best advantage you all have is the element of surprise. Some six foot asshole coming out of a dark alley would never guess that the five foot nothing wisp of a girl he is accosting could hit him with a spinning back kick to his head. But I worry about you ladies because if anyone is going to be victimized by someone like that dick weed from the other day it sure as hell won’t be Mike or me.”
“You aren’t completely off the hook yet, mister,” said Samantha, “but for sake of conversation, we would need a breed that is pretty protective.”
“I know!” Said Kirsten, “Tibetan Mastiffs. My aunt had one and not only are they huge, they are fiercely protective. Hell, she told me that in the Himalayas they are used protect livestock from wolves, bears and even big cats.”
“I’ve seen one of those,” laughed Tiffany, “and, little girl, if we got you one of them you’d need a saddle.”
“I’m pretty good at riding them bare-back. At least I was when I was ten. If they’re well trained, they’re great pets but won’t let strangers anywhere near you unless you tell them to.”
“They sound pretty rare, how much would one of these horses cost?” I asked.
“For a purebred? Low six figures I suppose.”
“Then they’re out.” I laughed, “My mom left me quite a bit, but that would eat up way too much.”
“Plus, we would run up against the whole attention thing again.” Offered Mike, “we should probably stick to German Sheperds or something like that. Common breeds, but big and smart enough to come through in a pinch.”
“I heard that the Navy Seals use Standard Poodles because they are smart and can be trained to do just about anything.” I said, “I would imagine that they would be a good choice. Who the hell expects to get chewed to bits by a friggin’ poodle?”
“Well, they are girly enough that no one would think twice about us walking around with one.” Noted Tiffany.
“Oh!” Exclaimed Samantha, “And think of all the cute ways we can sculpt their coats.”
There was a storm of ideas regarding all the different ways Poodle hair can be clipped.
The whole time, Mike just shook his head, sadly.
“Sheperds are great dogs.” He said at one point, looking at me because no one else was paying him any attention. “Tough, intimidating... you had to go and bring up poodles.”
“Standard Poodles, thank you very much. And if they’re tough enough to make it in the Seal Teams, they’re tough enough to protect our greatest treasures. Plus we’re back to the element of surprise.”
“Good point.” He admitted, “but you just know I’m gonna have to walk the damn thing and I hate to think what it’s gonna look like when she gets done with her clippers. I’m picturing bows and everything.”
Then he went back to forlornly shaking his head.
When the girls’ excitement over the hair styles of their respective poodles had waned, I brought up another topic that I had been pondering.
“How would you guys feel about moving into my place? We’ll probably be there most of the time anyway. Having everyone together would just make me breath a whole lot easier.”
“Handy,” said Mike, “if something did happen to one of us, we would know it a lot faster.”
“It does sound good,” said Kirsten, “But I am used to having my own room. Don’t get me wrong, I love the bed surfing, but everyone needs their own space sometimes.”
“There’s plenty of bedrooms.” I said, somewhat quieter than I’d intended.
“Jake! No!” Exclaimed a shocked Samantha.
No on else said anything, but looked just as shocked.
I reached out and put my hand over hers, “I’ve got to do it at some point anyway. It’s for a good cause, mom would understand.”
“This changes everything.” Said Tiffany, somberly, “If you’re willing to clear out your mom’s room just to make room for us, you must really be worried.”
“If everything goes as planned, there’s nothing to worry about. But if I’ve learned nothing else during my short stay in this world, it’s that anything can happen. I would just feel better if the three of you were close by.”
“And having three hot pussies available twenty-four-seven couldn’t hurt either.” snickered Kirsten.
“You’re getting a bit mouthy for a submissive sex slave.” I retorted.
“My apologies, Master Jake,” she said demurely, her eyes downcast and her tone sincere, “This lowly one meant no disrespect.”
“Knock it off.” I said as she started to lose the battle and her grin broke through.
“Speaking of sex,” said Tiffany, “I think Kirsten has some admirers.”
“Who?”
“Don’t everyone look, but over by bathrooms, there’s three high school boys, probably sixteen or seventeen. They’ve been staring.”
“I’m sure they’re just looking at the table, you and Samantha are much more noticeable than I am.”
“Before you all start thumb wrestling again, let me check.” I offered.
Calling up the sight I sent out a tendril to the first one.
“The guy in blue is definitely looking at Kirsten.”
“Told you.” snapped Tiffany.
“Would you like to know what he’s thinking?”
Kirsten mulled that over for a moment, “Sure. Tell me.”
“I think I’ll show you instead. I’m gonna try and route what he’s thinking through my TK and let you feel it.”
“Don’t go shoving one of those mind probes up my ass.”
“Nothing like that,” I laughed, “right now he’s just admiring your sexy curves.”
Keeping the link alive, I opened my eyes and concentrated.
“Ooh!” exclaimed, Kirsten in surprise as my telekinesis touched her. “Actually, this is sort of nice.”
“You have to give us a running commentary,” ordered Samantha, “so we know what she’s feeling.”
“Okay, I said he admired her body, and what he’s thinking he would like to do right now is caress her all over. He’s standing behind her and running his hands slowly and gently up her sides, now back down. Through the sweep of her tiny waist to the seductive flair of her narrow hips, his fingertips curling around the front of her hip bone and his thumbs tracing the roundness of her tight little ass.”
“I like the adjectives,” said Kirsten, “and the massage.” She added with a sigh.
His hands are moving down the outside of her sculpted thighs, almost to her knees... now up the back of her legs... his hands are gently cupping and kneading her sexy ass.”
Kirsten, let out something between a gasp and a sigh.
“He’s moving up now, his thumbs along her spine and his fingers easily reaching around her sides... up to her shoulders... down her arms... back up... down her back, but this time his fingers are inboard... now he’s exploring her sexy little waist... hands moving around to the front... Oh! He’s going in... under the shirt...”
“Go for it little brotha.” Laughed Mike.
“He’s moving slowly up her flat toned stomach, aaannd, there it is... the tit fondle.”
I cut off the telekinesis and Kirsten opened her eyes with a shudder.
“Hey! Why’d you stop it? That was really nice.” She looked at Samantha and Tiffany, “The kid’s not half bad. I should give him a chance, see if he’s as good in real life as he thinks he is.”
“Cradle robber.” Accused Tiffany.
“He’d probably cum in his pants if you just started talking to him.” Said Samantha.
I shot her a look but she just winked at me. We still had one secret.
“What about the other guys?” Asked Kirsten.
“Alright, let me get back in... Okay, the guy in the green shirt isn’t looking at Kirsten.” I reported with a chuckle.
“Let me guess,” said Kirsten in mock frustration, “Tiffany... fucking blonds.”
“Nope, he’s looking at Mike, you have a pretty good set of pec’s on display in that t-shirt buddy. Would you like me to...”
“No! I’m good.”
The girls giggled
“What about the other one?” urged Samantha.
I shifted my link over and almost immediately broke it, opening my eyes.
“What is it?” Asked Kirsten, staring at me with concern, “You look like you’ve just stepped in dog shit or something.”
“Are you sure you want to hear this?”
She just kept looking at me, expectantly.
“Okay, he was going at it doggy style...”
“So far so good.” she said.
“Yeah, but not in a good way. He was pulling back on your hair, hard. As I connected he was slapping your ass, not playfully either. He was imagining getting off on demeaning and hurting you. You don’t even want to know what he was calling you. It was well beyond what you might like.”
She frowned.
“You know, now I really feel like giving that first kid a roll, just to throw it in the other one’s face. You should come with me, Mike, that way he’ll end up the only one not getting any.”
“Funny.” said Mike sardonically, “You’re funny.”
“Nobody’s giving anyone a roll.” I said.
The violent nature of the third kid’s fantasy had knocked the fun out of the game, but then I noticed Tiffany, had slid her chair closer to Mike and leaned in to snuggled against his chest.
“I could have wound up with someone like that.” she finally said, then looked up at Mike. “I love you so much.”
They kissed, then she looked over at me, “I don’t how to thank you, Jake, or you Sam. You saw me going that way and when you found a way to stop it, you did it.”
“That’s what friends are for.” said Samantha.
“But if you remember,” I said, “as it began, we were just gonna fuck you and take you down a peg or two. You falling for Mike just sort of... evolved.”
“Thanks to you. And with that reminder, I’m on board with moving in, if Mike is. Be nice to get away from my father.”
“Is he still at it?” Asked Samantha, “I thought Jake took care of that.”
Shortly after revealing my secret to the stunning blond, Samantha and I had gone to visit her at her house a few times, when we knew her father would be there. I had done the best I could, but it only went so far. Tiffany loved her father even though she hated the way he acted when he was in a bad mood, so she didn’t want me to do anything that would alter him too drastically.
“Not as bad, he hasn’t hit us since Jake finished with him, but he can still be verbally abusive at times. Even though it’s not as frequent, I still get most of it.”
“Baby,” said Mike, his eyes narrowed with anger, “I’ve told you before, if you’d just...”
“Mike, he’s still my dad. I don’t want you beating the shit out of him.”
“Well, the offers there if you ever change your mind.”
“So, whoever that kid winds up suckering into marriage,” observed Samantha, “ will have to face all of that and worse.”
“Hey, Jake,” said Tiffany, “my dad wasn’t as bad as that, was he... you know, in bed?”
“No, worst I got from your mom is that he is usually inconsiderate in that regard. Not violent.”
“Well, that’s good, at least.”
“What about that kid, Jake?” Asked Samantha, her hand on my arm, “Can’t you do something about his budding predilection?”
“What I did to Tiff’s dad took about eight or nine sessions. I’m not sure what I could do with just a drive-by.”
“Well, that twist has to come from somewhere. Maybe you could just look into it?”
“Sure, can’t hurt.”
Calling up the sight, I zeroed back in on the young ass hat and followed his violent fantasy back to his memories.
“It’s his home life. No dad... split when he was almost too young to remember him. Lives with his mom and three older sisters who, apparently, have much clearer memories, all bad. Ipso-facto, they aren’t real fond of men in general, and this kid in particular. I would guess he reminds them of the guy.”
“Shit, poor kid,” Said Kirsten, “not much we can do about that.”
“Let me poke around and try something.”
I spent about fiftenn minutes rummaging around and making some changes, suggestions and planting some time bombs.
Pulling back my aura, I opened my eyes.
“Well, he’s going to start finding those types of fantasies a little uncomfortable. Hopefully up to the point he gets worried about them. I planted a time bomb in his head that will urge him to see some sort of counselor or therapist if that ever comes about.”
“That’ll work, won’t it?” Asked Tiffany.
“I put the therapist idea in your dad’s head too, but that didn’t work out. It’s not enough that they have the idea, they have to follow through. I can’t force that, I mean, I could, but therapy works better if they choose it for their own reasons. Forcing it could do more harm than good in the long run.”
“Well, you did the best you could, sweetie, thank you.” Said Samantha, giving me a peck on the cheek.
“At least you’ve given him some options,” observed Kirsten, “a chance to overcome his shitty home life and not be an asshole – the rest is up to him.”
“Back to the question on the table.” I said, “Who wants to move in?”
Tiffany looked at Mike, who was looking at her. Then he looked at me.
“We’re in. Hell, we’re already there most of time anyway.”
“If you’re sure you want to give up your room,” said Kirsten, “I’ll go pack a bag right now. It’ll help the ’rents grow up a bit.”
“Jake,” said Samantha, softly, “your mom’s room.”
“I said I have to do it sometime, and right now Kirz is far more important than some shrine that only serves to remind me she’s never coming home.”
I think I did a pretty good job of hiding the lump in my throat.
“Thank you, Jake,” said Kirsten, standing up to give me a kiss on the forehead, “I can tell this isn’t easy for you. It’s no wonder I kept loving you even after you stopped mind fucking me.”
Okay, maybe I didn’t do such a great job.
It took about a week to get everyone in. Samantha helped me sort out and pack up my mom’s things. She asked, hesitantly, about a few items of clothing and I was more than happy to let her have them. I thought it would do me good to see them being worn. It did.
Most of the rest of her clothes went to good will. I can tell you that dropping them in that big metal container hurt, but it was the right thing to do. The rest of her things, the rest of her life, went up to the attic. I kept out a few things, a picture she’d had by her bed, a jeweled watch I planned on surprising Samantha with on our wedding night and a couple other odds and ends that always gave me good memories when I saw them.
I paused a moment as each item went into the box. A small porcelain dog that had been there as long as I could remember. Where had she gotten it? I pictured her placing it on the shelf and couldn’t help but wonder what she’d been thinking as she did so? What had this meant to her? Was it just some cute knick knack, or did it have some profound sentiment attached to it? I would never know.
As I pondered each item I realized that all her brick-a-brack had always been there – she’d brought nothing new in since dad had died and she became Phillip’s puppet. Twelve years of her life had been spent in a virtual limbo. What other treasures might she have found of she had been herself?
When the house was ready, Mike and I went to Best Buy and picked up a couple laptops. Not top of the line, but with the features he thought he would need. We walked out with four of em and only spent about fifteen hundred dollars.
The girls went on a Standard Poodle quest. Most of the good places were charging nearly a thousand dollars and the cheaper ones were puppy mills where they were concerned about inbreeding or other health problems.
We were about to bite the bullet when Kirsten found a gold mine. Did you know there are folks out there running pet rescues that are devoted to particular breeds? There are.
They only asked for donations, no set prices. But they were good folks doing good works so I went with the going rate and donated two thousand for two dogs, male and female, about a year old, both of them fixed.
By the way, ever want to set a group of close friends at each others throats? Try to name two jointly owned pets.
My suggestion, Tweedle-dum and Tweedle dumber, was unanimously rejected. I’ve never been much of a dog person, though that would change.
After the dust settled, all wounds were treated and the dead buried, we ended up naming the female ‘Lady’ and the male ‘Tramp’.
Yes.
We did do that.
Sorry.
We got a hold of a trainer who would come to the house a few times a week and train them as guard dogs. Another one, with some, shall we say, ‘persuasion’ from me showed up once a week to give them the basics of a seeing eye dog. Turned out that wasn’t really enough.
Don’t get me wrong, they were smart animals, and it was obvious they had been through some obedience training before we ever got them. But being a seeing eye dog takes some intensive training and by then we weren’t willing to part with them for that long.
So we tabled the idea of using them as part of my blind cover and continued going out and about with one of the girls leading me around. They got a hold of some costumes and wigs that really downplayed their assets. Padded underthings added thirty to forty pounds and cheek pads rounded their faces to complete the illusion. They practice scowls and other unattractive expressions that even chubby chasers would want no part of. Trying to age them didn’t work out so well, it was too hard to do it in a way that would hold up under close scrutiny. But ‘project uglification’ was more or less a success. Kirsten was the only one with problems. No matter what they did, she always came out no worse than cute.
But since the goal was to make them less conspicuous, we decided that, “cute” was better than, “Oh-My-God-Look-At-That-Hottie!” and called it good enough.
Speaking of projects, Project Samantha Two was well underway and I was way ahead of my predetermined schedule so I started putting in inhibitions that would prevent a premature unveiling.
She was patient.
Mike spent most of his free time holed up in the den with his computers, pretending to be four different people on several different dark corners of the internet.
Through all this there were still classes and eventually final exams.
The Lady and the Tramp were coming along well in their guard training and we installed an invisible fence so we could let them out at night to protect the property.
Oh yeah, and there was that whole wedding thing.
Samantha and Tiffany had always been stunningly beautiful, but seeing them in those wedding dresses boggled the mind.
What is it about wedding dresses than always makes a woman look ten times prettier that without them? Even when they are already the pinnacle of female beauty. I don’t know how, but they always manage to do so.
It was a pretty big affair, we had high school friends and college friends, families and Mike even got fair bit of attention from his folks. Like they had anything to do with how he turned out. Well, they might have... but not the good parts. If I had relatives, I never knew about them.
It was about three weeks after the wedding that he emerged from the den one afternoon looking haggard.
“Turns out a few months is not enough time to earn trust with those folks. Every time one of my user names asked about quality fake ID, they became persona non grata.”
“Shit,” I said, “maybe I can just get away with hanging around and catching folks coming out. It might take longer, but we’ll get the data we need eventually.”
“Hold on, I didn’t say we were completely out of the game.”
“That’s my genius hubby.” said Tiffany.
“What did you come up with?” Asked my blushing bride.
“Actually,” he said, “you came up with it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve spent the last week tracing some of the long time users and, as I thought, most of them were what I’m pretty sure are dead ends. But there is one guy, who must not be all that good because I think I know where he lives. But he damn well didn’t make it easy.”
“Is this why I haven’t gotten laid in a week?” Asked Tiffany.
“Hey, as I recall, there was quite a bit of sex.”
“Whatever you have to tell yourself to get to sleep at night.”
I interjected – just to prevent bloodshed.
“Do you think he has the information we’ll need?”
“I doubt it, but if we can log on from his computer, using his user name and typical routes, I think we can get someone to help us out.”
“Well then, let’s go.” I said, standing up.
“Whoa,” he said, holding his hands up, “we can’t just bust in. These guys are paranoid wackos, most of ’em, anyway. He could just be some fat loser in his underwear, but he could also be a survival type, who won’t be a pushover. And we shouldn’t go in the open. He might have cameras and God knows what else. We can’t take a chance at being identified.”
“What did you have in mind?” Asked Samantha.
With that, we settled in to do some planning.
It took two days to get what we needed. Black ski masks, black, fairly snug clothing and weaponry that wouldn’t be fatal, at least the way they planned on using it.
Yes, I said, “they.”
My roll was to be paranoid and cover every base. In the unlikely event the guy was a talent, I would hang back watching auras to make sure none of them got mind fucked.
We were crouched behind a bush near the back door of the small one story house, waiting for Kirsten to finish her reconnoiter. It was just after sundown; she was a natural at slinking around and as small as she was, hard to see, all in black and sticking to the shadows.
The girls each carried PR-24’s, side handle batons like cops use.
Kirsten returned, stowing away her night scope and stethoscope. She had peeked into every window she could, and those she couldn’t, she listened for sounds.
“There’s three of them, in the living room watching TV.” She whispered. “They aren’t speaking English, if that means anything.”
“Could you tell what language they were using?” Asked Mike.
“It wasn’t English, Spanish or Korean, that’s all I can tell you.”
“Okay,” He said, keeping his voice low, “we’ll go in through the front door, hard. Shock and Awe and all that. I take whatever target is leftmost, you three girls handle the other two as you see fit. Jake, as soon as you’ve determined there’s no mental threat, help out whoever needs it.”
“Remember,” I added, “Those batons are fairly light, so don’t...”
“We’ve had training, Jake,” Whispered Tiffany, “that’s why we chose them, they’re good in close quarters and we all know how to use them.”
“Just don’t try for a quick knock out, go for the joints and jab the abdomen, knock ’em down and then take ’em out.”
“Yes Heir General.” She said with a stifled giggle.
As quietly as we could, and, frankly, that was pretty damned quiet, we moved around to the front of the house, staying in the shadows.
When we were all in position near the front door, I reached out with telekinesis, unlocked the door, quietly turned the knob then gave the sign.
Mike was in front, the girls close behind him and I brought up the rear, just as Mike reached the front door I swung it open and we were in. Calling up the sight I saw three Auras jump up from various chairs while four other auras closed in on them. To my left, Mike’s aura tackled that one, taking him to the ground, two others closed in on the middle one and I could hear meaty smacks as their batons struck home. In a lightening fast maneuver, the shortest of our auras dove past the one to the right, down low. I heard a crack that must have been his kneecap. That aura immediately dropped as his scream mingled with the grunt and shouts of the others.
None of their auras had given any signs of reaching out and there was no shimmering blue of armor so I opened my eyes to see who needed help.
Mike was on his back, his man in front of him, facing up. The big arm around his neck was cutting off the blood flow and he would be asleep in a few more seconds.
Samantha had another one, face down, her body off to the side and her arm snaked around his windpipe while Tiffany lay across him, preventing him from escaping or doing anything else he might find useful.
Kirsten had her legs around the third guy’s neck in a scissor lock, he was on his back and with his knee out of commission and in severe pain he couldn’t do much. He was trying, however and had just punched her shapely leg, which I couldn’t allow. Reaching out, I pinned his arms and she nodded at me as he went to sleep.
Once we were sure the bad guys were out, we quickly trussed them up and fanned out. Kirsten checked the doors and windows, Mike did a quick, but thorough, search of the common areas and Samantha and Tiffany teamed up to check the rest of the house for any nasty surprises.
I did some head peeking to find out which one was the guy Mike had tracked on the web and what log in information he used.
Mike came back first.
“No cameras other than the web cam on the computer. We’re clear on that front. Which one is my guy?”
“All of them,” I replied, “they all get on and they all use the same log in name and password.”
“No door or window contacts, no motion detectors, so no alarm.” Reported Kirsten, “We won’t be getting a visit from the cops.”
“I think I know why,” said Samantha, from the hallway, “You gotta see this.”
She led us back into one of the bedrooms where we found maps pinned to the wall, highway interchanges were circled with one in particular in thick red marker. I knew it, as it was local. One of those big multilevel cloverleafs.
Tiffany was holding some sheets of paper.
“They’re fucking terrorists.” she said. “We just took down a fucking terrorist cell.”
“What do you have there, babe?” asked Mike.
“Only plans for a massive explosion with casualties up the ass.”
We looked over their plans.
They were going to stuff a semi trailer with a couple of those big propane tanks you see by houses out in the country. They would wrap them in det-cord that, according to their plan, would be tied into a detonator along with an incendiary bomb. With all that in the center, they would pile up crates and boxes of empty bottles, heavy bits of cut up re-bar and other metal, screws, nuts bolts, ball bearings, marbles and, apparently, anything else they could get their hands on.
“Holy shit.” Said Kirsten. That would make one hell of a bang.”
“And some real nasty shrapnel that would travel... God knows how far.” Said Samantha, her voice relating the horror she felt.
“If they set it off here,” I said, point to the big red circle on the map, “during rush hour, they could collapse the entire structure. That would kill a lot of people, and all that broken glass and other shrapnel would cause serious injuries for hundreds of yards, maybe further.”
“And think of the aftermath,” noted Mike, “how do you think the government would react to someone using a truck to blow up a highway interchange. It would bring commercial traffic to a near standstill, at least for a while – they’d be stopping and searching every truck on the road.”
“Things would be in short supply, that’s for sure. Especially grocery stores. Jesus, if they’re planning on more of these, all over the country we could end up with massive rioting as people start getting hungry.”
“And we stopped it.” Beamed Tiffany. “We’re gonna be heroes.”
“Except, we won’t be.” Said Mike. “We are gonna do what we came here to do and call the feds from a pay phone after we’ve gone.”
“But...” Started Tiffany.
“He’s right, Tiff.” said Samantha, “this is heinous shit, but we have other fish to fry. Maybe not bigger, but other.”
“Besides,” I added, “we can’t explain what we’re doing here without drawing the wrong sort of attention.”
“Hey guys,” said Kirsten, “did you look in the closet?”
“No.” said Samantha and Tiffany at once.
She back out of a closet, dragging a large duffel.
As soon as it hit the light we could all see what was in it.
Money.
A shit-ton of money.