Tanner sighed and shook her head as the team hovered around the big screen and the blueprint of the courthouse.
“Okay, so this plan is complicated. Is there any way to simplify it?” she asked.
“Probably not.” Yuri said as she gave him a look of disappointment. “If it was easy, everyone would kill politicians. You don’t just walk up to a very hated man on the street with 9mm and shoot him in the back. Nobody with enemies would be that stupid. This man is paranoid and crooked and was running a group of hitmen to do his work. This group. Old group but still. He has security teams, we don’t know how many men. Some in street clothes and concealed carry, some in full security gear. No way to know. Metal detectors, frisk at the door, Alarms and guards on every exit. Courthouse windows are barred but regular glass. This is the best plan. Show of hands who here has planned and executed a hit with security detail?” he asked. Theo raised his hand. “Describe security team.” Yuri ordered.
“About 20 years ago, I killed a guy with a bodyguard. Shot the bodyguard in the head, shot the guy in the head, walked away.”
“Exactly.” Yuri said. “No experience. Nadja likes to get close to her targets so she will be in the building, and anyone here in her way is mild annoyance at best, especially if you are unarmed, and she has smuggled in some plastic knife or made improvised weapon. She WON’T be unarmed. We have already proven with range day yesterday, that most of you cannot hit shit in bucket past 150 meters. Snow and myself are the only competent riflemen. Snow has construction worker ID and vest, if he carries ladder around nobody will stop him or ask anything. They never question someone in a construction vest carrying ladder in this country.”
“And carrying a rifle?” Snow asked. "They gonna ignore that because of the vest?"
“Rife will be waiting. I can get rifle on the roof the night before. PVC pipe with screw caps, taped to air duct. You find it, wait for order. First you shoot window, hide gun and leave gun, go back down calmly with ladder. Return here. I will be at car dealership beside courthouse. Clear shot to where the Mayor will make his speech.”
“Then why am I risking my ass on a rooftop?” Snow asked.
“Have you ever shot through glass at an angle? Even regular glass deflects bullets. I cannot get flat shot at podium with glass in my way, you cannot get shot at podium at all. You shoot the glass out, and then I shoot the mayor through open window. Simple. Theo and Lincoln will wait across the street from exits, armed with machine pistols. If the mayor is not dead, then the mayor is moved, so open fire. Finish him off. You will not be needed. I take very good shots. You are as they say…backup dancers.” He explained. “But Mike and Nadja may exit as well. Follow but do not engage. You will die.”
“So what do I do?” Tanner asked.
“Await good news?” he shrugged.
“Um, I’m supposed to be the one impressing Mike with my progress and WHEN we run into Mike, he won’t trust anyone else to help him. You follow, he’ll lose you. And if you open fire, he’ll kill you. I need to be there, Ideally making the mayor kill, but at the very least on the scene, so he knows who’s on our team.” She insisted. "How do I get inside?"
“I can get us in. You’ll be my date.” Said Rowan calmly, still drinking water from a glass with the bottle in his coat pocket. “My family has money. I took out a fair bit before they flagged me on the run, I can bribe someone to let us in. However, if anyone has a suggestion as to how we may get weapons inside, feel free to speak up. The money will get us inside, but after a pat down and check. I’m not a spy despite my charm, the knives I use aren’t smuggled into anywhere. They stay at home and won't get past security. I’m a universal key, not a fighter.”
“Ideas people?” Tanner shrugged. “Ink-pen gun, plastic derringer, switchblade that comes out of a shoe, anything anyone can think of that one of us could make in time? Prison shanks, zipguns, fucking…baseball bat. Anything. Neither of us stand a chance against Nadja unarmed. We probably don’t... fully armed.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Alexander grinned, tapping his sword cane on the table.
“Yes, brilliant, that won’t set of the wands, a 2-foot steel sword with brass end caps.” Rowan scoffed.
“I did not specifically imply this one. You’re not getting my lucky strike, even if it would get past security, which it shall not. I make my own blades and canes. I don’t trust store-bought ones, and everyone recognizes it as a sword cane. I have another cane in my garage made of timber, with a 17-inch steel blade inside. Admittedly, a cheap pawn store grab, but comes apart easily. I have yet to replace it with anything custom and worthy. I shall simply swap the steel with something else nonmetallic, fiberglass, wood. I believe if one would get that sharp enough, it may not hold an edge long, but it would murder before dulling completely. I have actually dabbled with the idea myself. I’ll work something up in my garage. You just practice your limping, fancy-shoes.” Alexander said slyly.
“What about me?” Caleb asked. "I wanna help if I can. I'n not a killer, but I'm willing to help."
“I know Mike. He’s got an entrance and an exit plan. You and Alexander wait around the main roads, if you see Mike making his escape, dose him. I got a bunch of Carl’s knockout shit, I assume someone can make a blowgun that spits these out?” she asked.
“Actually yea.” Caleb nodded. “When I was a kid, didn’t have much supervision or anything to do, so I used to get air guns from the pawn shops and modify them. I can make a dart gun. Easy.”
“Impressive. You and Alex are the gadget guys. See, we can do anything they can, together. It’s not like they’re gonna walk in with Uzis past a metal detector, they’re gonna have something like this, plastic shivs, knockout stuff, blowguns, something basic. We got 9 people, they got 2. We can beat them to it, take down Nadja in the process, and get my Mike back. Once we get her Russian titty hypnosis broken and prove we’re professionals, Mike will get sobered up, lead the team. I know it. Prove it to him. Make us both proud. Let’s get to work! LET’S DO THIS!” Tanner yelled.
Carl carefully sat down, slowly, at the work table of his bug-out bunker. Mike and Nadja sat down after, all looking tired and hungry.
"So I assume everyone had fun shopping?” Mike asked, Nadja smiling and nodding with a subtle “da” as Carl glared angrily.
“Sure did. I love shopping for guns and ammo with a bomb on my nutsack.” Carl barked.
“Did you get everything?” Mike asked.
“Yea I did. You realize how many guns stores I had to go to find those damn folding Glock 23s? They’re not cheap either, even with my gun guy. I also got the tricked out slides and barrels, 5 of the all plastic magazines, and one box of 25 Hornady Critical Duty 9mm+P 135grain ammo. Like you very specifically emphasized.”
“Good doggy. Nadja, how was your shopping?” Mike asked.
“Difficult but successful. I had to call favors to get it, but I got most and the rest will arrive tomorrow here VIP delivery. Costumes, very specific wheelchair, knee brace, and Office chair.” She smiled. Carl looked confused.
"Since I’m clearly participating in this circus, can I at least know what the hell you’re doing?” Carl snipped.
"As you already know, 3 days from now there is a public meeting to discuss actions and new laws regarding school shootings. I’ve managed to pull some connections and get us fake IDs to attend. So getting in the building and within 40 feet of the mayor is easy. The tricky part is getting weapons in and getting out alive, WITH the mayor hostage. Carl, you will be the in the wheelchair in a double layered fat-suit.”
“Just for insult?” he asked.
“No, there’s a reason, and I can’t trust you to push the chair with me in it. I’m going to modify the wheelchair and the Glocks, the folding models modded to disassemble completely and fit in the arm rests. I’m designing new wheelchair push handles that lock to the pistol frame and act as foregrips and suppressors, and I’m making full auto switches for them both.” He said, laying out his paper sketch. That’s a pair of submachine guns with 4 24 round magazines in 9mm. One magazine each tungsten subsonic, and one armor piercing. The ammo should fit in clusters of 3 and stack vertically in the wheelchair tubing. So I wheel you in, they check the chair because you can’t get out of it, and the chair won’t pass a metal detector. They’ll do a pat down and see nothing wrong with the chair, meanwhile I’ll be unarmed and clean to go through and retrieve you. We’ll all be in full costume. Double layered for a quick wardrobe change." Mike explained.
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"I love his plans" Nadja said, presenting her purse.
"Nadja will check in her purse, which has a hard bottom frame containing the plastic magazines with the springs removed. She’ll dump the contents, and it will pass through, and she will let them know she has a knee brace, the magazine springs go in her knee brace, which they’ll wand and pat her down. She’ll go through and assemble them in the bathroom. After that, we’ll all meet in the bathroom, lock and load. Appendix carry until the time is right. I’ll excuse myself early and hang around the back exit, Carl will have to take his insulin, which is of course actually your lovely knockout cocktail we’re saving for the mayor. Nadja will open fire, driving them towards the back, we’ll take out the security from both ends, and dose the mayor, get him in the fat suit and the chair. Fake blood packet to the abdomen. Everyone does a wardrobe change, we all walk out looking like different people, while what’s left of security frantically looks for the mayor everywhere except inside the wounded wheelchair fat-man. I have an acquaintance who will be waiting with an ambulance outside. Sirens turn on, we drive right past the police and once we hit city limits, light go off.
“I love the part where I don’t get a gun.” Carl said.
“If you can fit one up your ass, be my guest, because I haven’t exactly perfected the all-polymer revolver yet, and the chair barely fits 2 custom deconstructed Glocks."
Alexander and Caleb stood at the workbenches in Alex’s basement, Tanner watching the progress. Caleb mixed some JB weld on a paper plate and carefully applied it to the plastic pipe.
“That’s very interesting.” She nodded.
“It’s really just a BB pistol and some PVC pipes. I hack-sawed the plastic down enough to expose the metal barrel a little bit. Drilled a snug fit hole in an end-cap and added about 3 inches of PVC water pipe. My dad owned trailers and did his own landlord repair work. I tinker with stuff. Basically, I’m just making a bigger barrel that will fit a syringe that I’ve cut and filed down the tabs off of. It’s just glue and plastic, really. It’s not gonna have any range or accuracy, but from about 10 feet I’m sure it will stick in someone. The momentum should drive the plunger and I don’t know how much of this stuff it takes to knock someone out, but even if it gets a little in, he should be woozy enough to wrestle into a car.”
"May I say on record..." Alexander chimed in. "Perhaps young Caleb should NOT attempt to bag the meanest killer in the land, and instead simply... build the gadgets or drive the getaway car. Caleb has stolen a car, surely he can steer one?"
“You know.” Tanner squinted. “You two remind me of him a little. I like that.” She squinted.
“Then perhaps you'll simply adore this.” Alexander grinned. “You seem to have a fetish for weapon designers. Get ready to fall in love with me.” he said, pulling the cloth dramatically.
“Not happening, Mister, Traveling circus conductor, we got a job to do. You wanna impress me, impress me with stabby things…not like that, don’t you even smirk at that. The fucking weapons.” She sighed with annoyance.
"Behold your buffet of cutlery. I admit, despite making a lot of fine blades and doing a bit of woodworking for the handles, I’ve never made a wooden blade and there were some struggles involved. The sword cane, my lady. Finest white oak the internet has to offer with free shipping in under 24 hours.”
“Why is the edge kinda milky white and weird?”
“As it turns out, despite being very strong and hard, I have discovered that when ground to a fine cutting edge, white oak tends to…disappoint. It crumbles into fibers and shards, and in an act of brilliant desperation, I use a cyanoacrylate glue and some fine oak dust from sanding, and bonded the edge, now infused with plastic. Before you clap and become flush with glee, it cuts like shit.”
“Wow… I’m just so turned on right now, it’s unreal and frightening. So you just didn’t even bother trying to sharpen most of the sword cane, and I still don’t know if 17 inches is a sword or a long knife.” She sighed.
“Try thinking of it more of a stabbing-only 8 inch knife, on a 9-inch handle extension. Even a true sword is 80 percent nothing, leading to the point that kills. The first 6 inches or so does the killing, and the rest just adds reach to that part. So it’s a...dagger...that you can use slightly further back from your target.” he cringed.
“Boy, I hope they get more impressive down the row.” She cringed back.
“I provided options in a pinch and started with the least exciting but the only long option. This rather fillet-knife amalgam of pieces lacks range, but conceals better and stabs better. That’s 3 pieces of Blood wood, laminated and plastic soaked as well. Far less splintery.”
“Why 3 pieces, isn't that more likely to break?” she asked
“Yes, but my joinery is flawless, and I did not have a 9-inch piece of Bloodwood conveniently on hand. I had a 5 and a half inch piece. So I decided you would rather have a 5-inch blade and a comfortable sized handle, rather than a small handle and a 2-inch box cutter made of wood.”
“Fair.” She nodded.
"Now, I did discover that Purple Heart makes a damn decent knife blade, as far as wood and plastic options go. Unfortunately, I had even less of that, so this is a 3-inch Purple Heart blade glued to a 4-inch oak handle. Now THIS, will separate flesh very nicely. Tighter grain, hard as hell, this is quite an attractive little killer. Befitting yourself, really. And finally the one you have been waiting for.” He said, removing the silk handkerchief like a magician. “The Dragoness claw” he said, revealing a black punch dagger with a strangely purple crystal-like blade shimmering like a magical relic.
“What…in the hell?” she pondered.
“One piece of shaped polycarbonate plastic, that’s bulletproof glass if you layer it with regular glass a few times. I had high hopes for this simply as a clear plastic stabber, but I found the edge dulling very quickly and sharpening it to be frustrating, the tip bent on impact. Utter disaster, and THEN!” he said, looking wild eyed and drunk. “I had my epiphany. I laminated some of the Purple Heart veneer to the bottom side and beveled it to that direction. You now have the indestructibility of unbreakable polycarbonate, but with a Purple Heart edge honed like a razor. An Amethyst arrowhead from hell ready to be punched into flesh and taste blood…and the sheen of the clear glass made it too visible and easy to spot, so I painted the other side black. What looks like nothing more than a small triangle of purple wood from one side, blends easily into a black skirt, and is actually a throat slitting machine no metal detector can find, that would not even look like a knife until you bury it in someone.”
“Yea, they got more impressive as they went. Fancy pants Rowan can have the bullshit cane and the Bloodwood. I’ll take the purple shanks. What’s this sketch?”
“Ah, something to not concern with unless I reveal it at the last moment. I have a piece of very hard Ebony, that not only will make a deadly knife but a poetic thing of beauty…assuming I can find it at all. Expect nothing else, that way if your expectations are correct, I am not breaking my promises. Otherwise, life is a series of disappointing optimism and failure.” He grinned
“Well, I can’t expect miracles from people just because Mike seems to do them. Good work, both of you. Dart guns and sneaky stabby things. What more could a girl ask for?” She said leaving the basement to let them finish. Alexander broke from a smile to a look of worry.
“We need to find that Ebony, she’s going to get killed with a few 3-inch blades and one jackass with a shitty cane spear. Damn last minute requests.”
“Really hope she doesn’t die. Son of a bitch, that is cute.” Caleb sighed. “Damn shame, she’s in love already.”
"You really wanna go after Mike with that little dart gun?” he asked Caleb.
“It’s better than nothing. I gotta do my part. Make an impression.”
“You like her too. Kid, let me give some advice. Don’t get your expectations too high, either. That girl is a natural killer, and she likes that in a man. If you stay back here and work the gadget angle like me, I may have some competition. Not much, but something. I have the charisma and the stabby things. However, if you get killed like ol Mikey in this mess, that pretty little thing just got very single and her options narrowed down. I would start looking a lot more desirable, if you were both dead. I only truly wish this of Mike, not you. Just make the dart guns and let me subdue the preacher. He’s out of both of our class, but you’re barely even in the playground, and I believe you got lost and ended up here in the killer's club.”
“Sounds like you’re on your own team instead of this one.” Caleb sighed.
“I believe in survival and teamwork. Sadly, this team does not work, and half of them won't make it. Dying beats prison, but dead is dead. Even a killer ass means nothing if you die before getting it. Know your place, kid. The Preacher Mike is not leading us, even if he survives. He’s gone, and she’s in denial. Have you seen what this Nadja looks like?” he said, getting out his phone, as Caleb looked impressed.
“Lucky Mike. You gotta kill 80 people to get Rizz like that?”
“I...don't even know what that mean. Mike is old and running on fumes and desperation, my friend. He’s leaving that poor girl behind because he’s planning to get himself killed. He may have no plan to get out. That demonic little blue haired cupcake is his plan-B bitch because he doesn’t give a shit if he hurts her. She is meaningless last-stand pussy because dying alone is terrible, and bringing down Tanner with you is a sin even hell’s preacher can’t commit. She’s already single, she just does not realize it yet. He’s with the devil herself because he has nothing to lose going down in flames. So, you have two choices, young buck. Be the hero that rushes in, Mike will kill you when you get in his way OR, you can play the bitch card.” He said, dramatically flipping a playing card out of his pocket with the ace of spades on it. “...And live to compete over her, when Mike is already dead. I look forward to the gentleman’s game. A little humiliation is better for you than death, it’s a life lesson you can cherish."
“You seem pretty sure of that, Alex.
“It's Alexander. You haven’t earned the abbreviation yet. Prepare for the worst, hope for the girl, and if you play smart, expect reality to land you alive and breathing to watch me win Tanners heart anyway. So don’t get too attached. I’m a killer with experience with the bladed edge, that another cutter can appreciate, and you’re a kid with bad luck and darts.” Alexander sighed dramatically, consoling him with a pat on the back and a sad bow.