“Hefty… Let change world.”

I was fighting the urge to kill myself. The king stood above me, pushing my head a centimeter toward the monitors with the mission launch ahead. I could do it. I could lunge for the gun, but then I’d have fried brains splashed on the dash. But if I did, Mom would have the same happen to her. The king was holding his gold-rimmed iPad up to my side, showing the live GoPro image.

It finally clicked. The king was creating his legacy. This was his deadly masterpiece. His Mona Lisa. He was painting with fire. I looked into his eyes, his crazy eyes. This was all the king had left. Without this, he was nothing.

I knew what I had to do. Heftyvision was still operating. It was gonna be tighter this time around. Our computer room was busy today. Honestly, I was shocked Samir still hadn’t caught on. Whatever, his loss. I had things to do.

I guess I was the only one who knew the algorithms I had set up for the B-2. I was typing really stupidly for the 23 minutes. It fooled everyone, I guess. They didn’t seem to suspect me . The king had a headset through which he was coordinating with GoPro. Everyone was walking around with phones like they were coordinating something important, too. Maybe some ISIS videos? Recruiting. I don’t know. I didn’t handle all the tech stuff. Just the terroristy bits.

Honestly, with all the confusion, I had a nice cover in Jankio Shack 2.0.

And I’d need it. I was routing everything through Emma’s computer. She always left her desktop open, so I had access to it. She was none the wiser. Security in obscurity. I logged into TOR and got onto my accounts. I made sure that everything routed back to her. Just don’t do anything stupid, Em. Not worth dying over.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

I was making sure it all got to law enforcement. It was kind of easy on TOR. The whole Dark Web was designed to catch criminals. I just needed to stop avoiding the police profiles. I saw some people who were obviously ATF. So I started sending them all the info. Every last crumb I could dish out. And that was sent from _detective_emma_3. A fitting screenname, Emma, I had to say, but no time for joking. I only had a few hours to get it done right.

The room was still a buzz. I had a scare with Samir, but he was a slow learner. If he wasn’t, he would have caught me long before.

All I needed was someone I could trust.

And that’s when I found my guardian angel.

Someone was snooping around a chatroom. It was the one with PatRIOT9D. We got plenty of stuff from him. This guy must have been FBI. I really hoped so, ’cause I was running out of ideas. I swore if it worked, I’d do anything. I’d even go back to school.

The B-2 was already in the air. We only had about 6 hours ‘til fly-over. I initiated the algorithm as the 23rd minute came. No turning back. Here goes nothing. I reverse-engineered all the FBI channels. Whoever it was, he was good with smartphones.

And then my session ended. Oh boy.

If my GPS was right, FBI guy was more than 6 hours from Portland. I’d have to wait another 23 minutes.

I just had to be patient.

Patience sucked.

I looked around and saw a zoo. People talking on headsets. In Arabic. What could they possibly have been talking about? I heard someone over yonder say, “FIFA,” and that was all I really needed to hear. ISIS wasn’t terrorists. These guys were idiots. They were probably on the phone with their cousins. Talking soccer. It was all theater and costumes. Enjoy it while it lasts boys.

I looked around the room. If everything went as planned, this would be my last time here. I wouldn’t miss it. I wished I could have bombed it, but I couldn’t take the risk. And I couldn’t add it to the algorithm now. I just had to grin and bear it.

A little

bit

longer.

At the 23rd minute, while nobody was watching, I got to typing. [_detective_emma_3 is decoy. I need your help…]

I hoped they had a fast car.