Aztec Star Chapter 2 Part II (Continued)
With the eyes of my friends on me, everyone left I ever cared about, I set to work.
“Howie goes into the building, shoots up the place,” I said.
A tap of the screen and I advance to the next detail.
“Then he boards the elevators and does what?”
“Goes up,” Serpent said.
Howie shifting his feet inside the overly large boots he had bought for this occasion. Nervous pacing. The acrid stink of gun smoke. His eyes wavering as he scanned the floor display, biting his lip nervously. With a free hand, he wiped away his tears.
“Right, but he's already set a pattern,”
The magazine in his hand was heavy.
“Pattern?” Serpent asked.
Howie slapped the clip home. That satisfying 'click' reassured him. That sound told him that gun was his, and his alone. Like lover purring in your ear.
“If he got in the elevator to go up...” Ex started, realization dawning.
“Then he had a plan.” Pilot finished.
A plan that involved a twenty four year old security guard named “Arnold”.
The still tone signaled his arrival.
“Wait, how does that mean he had a plan?” Serpent asked, her eyes betrayed her confusion. “Dude gets in an elevator to go cap off the board, maybe he's not going for body count, maybe he's going for dollar value.”
“Then why alert the whole building by shooting it up on his way in?” I asked gently.
“Look, it doesn't mean a goddamn thing,” Serpent insisted. “If I were gonna shoot up Nairobi, I'd start wit the scum suckers who think they own this rat hole too.”
“But Howie didn't think that way,” I said. “look-”
Auerbach left limp and bleeding behind Howie, his coattails rustling rhythmically behind him, his paces smooth and even.
“I'm saying, Howie didn't go in without a plan.”
Pivoting on one booted toe to face the door to the boardroom. A moment of hesitation to check the magazine of his rifle. Sirens distant outside. That evil click of the magazine one last time.
“He went in specifically to kill the Nairobi board.”
The door swinging open at Howie's touch.
“What?!” Pilot exclaimed “What the hell for? I mean, Jesus, we're talking about Nairobi. Not one of the big players, what do they even do?”
“Whatever the reason, it has something to do with Nairobi shutting down circulation of the footage. The police report doesn't say what happened in that room,” I said, ignoring Pilot's question “But afterwards, everyone in the room was dead.”
“Including Howie...” Ex added.
“Christ,” Serpent rocked back.
“Something still isn't adding up though,” Pilot said, “Besides the 'why'” he added. “Howie goes in, shoots up the lobby, goes straight to the elevators, all the way to the board levels, caps the guard, caps the board, then offs himself. Why all that business with the secretary and the yuppies?”
I held my hands apart. “Unknown.”
“Well that's obviously what we have to find out. If Howie did have a goal, what was it,” Ex chimed in.
“Okay? Targets? Game plan?” Serpent asked, all business.
“Whoa, whoa. I don't even-” Pilot said.
“Here's your coffee sweetie.” The waitress swooped in to deliver the steaming drink.
“Thanks,” Serpent slid the cup and saucer toward herself and silence settled over us.
My previous drive to deliver raw, unadulterated info had dried up and left me feeling empty. I looked around the table and everyone was staring intently down as if ashamed. It was the same here as it was online. Howie was an unspoken word in the back of everyone's mind. A faded whisper reverberating through the net. A real Ghost in the Machine.
“Howie goes into the building, shoots up the place,” I said.
A tap of the screen and I advance to the next detail.
“Then he boards the elevators and does what?”
“Goes up,” Serpent said.
Howie shifting his feet inside the overly large boots he had bought for this occasion. Nervous pacing. The acrid stink of gun smoke. His eyes wavering as he scanned the floor display, biting his lip nervously. With a free hand, he wiped away his tears.
“Right, but he's already set a pattern,”
The magazine in his hand was heavy.
“Pattern?” Serpent asked.
Howie slapped the clip home. That satisfying 'click' reassured him. That sound told him that gun was his, and his alone. Like lover purring in your ear.
“If he got in the elevator to go up...” Ex started, realization dawning.
“Then he had a plan.” Pilot finished.
A plan that involved a twenty four year old security guard named “Arnold”.
The still tone signaled his arrival.
“Wait, how does that mean he had a plan?” Serpent asked, her eyes betrayed her confusion. “Dude gets in an elevator to go cap off the board, maybe he's not going for body count, maybe he's going for dollar value.”
“Then why alert the whole building by shooting it up on his way in?” I asked gently.
“Look, it doesn't mean a goddamn thing,” Serpent insisted. “If I were gonna shoot up Nairobi, I'd start wit the scum suckers who think they own this rat hole too.”
“But Howie didn't think that way,” I said. “look-”
Auerbach left limp and bleeding behind Howie, his coattails rustling rhythmically behind him, his paces smooth and even.
“I'm saying, Howie didn't go in without a plan.”
Pivoting on one booted toe to face the door to the boardroom. A moment of hesitation to check the magazine of his rifle. Sirens distant outside. That evil click of the magazine one last time.
“He went in specifically to kill the Nairobi board.”
The door swinging open at Howie's touch.
“What?!” Pilot exclaimed “What the hell for? I mean, Jesus, we're talking about Nairobi. Not one of the big players, what do they even do?”
“Whatever the reason, it has something to do with Nairobi shutting down circulation of the footage. The police report doesn't say what happened in that room,” I said, ignoring Pilot's question “But afterwards, everyone in the room was dead.”
“Including Howie...” Ex added.
“Christ,” Serpent rocked back.
“Something still isn't adding up though,” Pilot said, “Besides the 'why'” he added. “Howie goes in, shoots up the lobby, goes straight to the elevators, all the way to the board levels, caps the guard, caps the board, then offs himself. Why all that business with the secretary and the yuppies?”
I held my hands apart. “Unknown.”
“Well that's obviously what we have to find out. If Howie did have a goal, what was it,” Ex chimed in.
“Okay? Targets? Game plan?” Serpent asked, all business.
“Whoa, whoa. I don't even-” Pilot said.
“Here's your coffee sweetie.” The waitress swooped in to deliver the steaming drink.
“Thanks,” Serpent slid the cup and saucer toward herself and silence settled over us.
My previous drive to deliver raw, unadulterated info had dried up and left me feeling empty. I looked around the table and everyone was staring intently down as if ashamed. It was the same here as it was online. Howie was an unspoken word in the back of everyone's mind. A faded whisper reverberating through the net. A real Ghost in the Machine.