With a Pull of a Trigger

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five

Heaven, Hell, and the Mess in Between

“This is a bomb,” said Charles in a matter-of-fact way, nodding curtly to make Greg see the importance of what he just said.

The room wasn’t one Greg could call an office. To be honest, it fitted Greg’s description of it being a room with folders placed on every flat surface except two tables; the long black aluminum table they all affectionally called, “His Majesty’s Table” where Charles’ precious screens and keyboards were placed and the gray table which was placed on the other side of the room, near the doorway, where Charles made the gadgets the spies would use.

Greg let out an amused snort, eyeing the small silky black bowtie Charles held in his hands. He looked up at Charles, his eyebrow raised. “Really?”

Charles fidgeted in his place, yet careful not to drop the bowtie. “Well, not really, no, but it’s a controller for a bomb.”

Greg plopped down on a black swivel chair and nodded. “Figured as much,” said Greg, smug.

Charles sighed, obviously tired of how smug Greg was. “Anyway,” Charles said loudly, his voice reverberating across the room, “you just press this little button on the side of the knot, and the bomb goes boom, okay? Be careful not to accidentally drop this little gadget because if you do, you’re going to blow the heads off of every single person in a five meter radius where you dropped these.”

Greg eyed the two small circles made out of metal critically, squinting his eyes. “What are those supposed to be?”

Charles rolled his eyes. “They’re cuff links, you idiot. You just drop these wherever, and then press that button on your bowtie. However, you have to be in the ten meter radius around these guys for them to explode. One click, the cuff link goes boom. Another click, the other cuff link goes boom. Any questions?”

“Yeah, can you tell me what those are?” Greg asked flatly.

Charles rolled his eyes and put the cuff links and bowtie back into an aluminum briefcase, carefully getting another object out of the briefcase right after. “Since they check very carefully for guns and knives before you enter the room where the rich guys keep their expensive belongings on display, you’re going to have to make do with these.”

Greg looked at the pair of leather shoes Charles was holding. “You’re kidding, right? I’m not going to throw my shoes at whoever I’m going to be fighting with!”

Charles rolled his eyes once again. He did it in such a manner that Greg was considering making eye-rolling as Charles’ thing in the office.

“Patience is a virtue,” said Charles, flipping the pair of shoes carefully, grabbing the heel and sliding it backwards, “and this is what I meant you’re going to use. By sliding the outer layer of leather out, there’s a small compartment for a dagger. So you have two daggers in your shoes. I’ve had these shoes fitted for your shoe size. You can thank me later.”

Greg snorted, shaking his head fondly at Charles’ words.

“Next,” said Charles, putting the shoes back into the briefcase, “is this. It’s a watch, as you can see, but it’s also a comms unit and a tracker. I’ve created a program which will both monitor your placement in the mansion based on their blueprints and that tracker, as well as list down possible paths for you to escape to.”

Greg nodded, impressed.

“The room where the vault is is guarded with at least two guards on both sides of the door. For those two guards, you have these,” said Charles, showing Greg a black wallet with silver linings. “These linings are actually small needles, so you just slide them out, and stick them into the guards. The second any part of these prick their skin and make contact with their blood, they’ll start to feel dizzy and sleepy. They’ll be unconscious for only five minutes, so be fast. Your watch has a timer. You can time yourself.”