You and Henry nod.
“What we absolutely don’t want is for anybody—especially you two—to get hurt, right? To make sure of that, you need to listen to us, and when we tell you to do something, you do it, okay?”
“Okay,” says Henry, overeagerly. You just nod.
“We’re going to be pulling into the loading bay, and from there you will have a short window to get inside the larger building.”
“Will you give us a map?” asks Henry, playing it way too aggressively.
“No. You’ll have these.” She hands each of you a pair of thick AR glasses, more like goggles. “And we’ll walk you through every step. What this mission is about, though, is we’re going to scare a few people.”
“Who?” asks Henry.
“That doesn’t matter right now. What you need to know is we’ve thought this through from every angle. We know exactly how we’re going to get you in and out, so the key for you is to listen to us and not panic.”
“Gotcha,” says Henry, nodding his small, buzzed head vigorously.
Murdock opens the metal footlocker and throws you and Henry each a pair of dark cargo pants. He asks your shoe size and then hands you a corresponding pair of black boots as well as a black shirt. Each of you strip down to your underwear. After you finish pulling the laces of the boots tight, there is a hardy belt weighted with zip ties, pepper spray, a flashlight, and the holster for a pistol. This is followed by knee and elbow pads, which the ladies strap on for you and Henry. Next they put the glasses on you to test them.
“Can you hear me?” Quinn asks from their little operations center. Speakers on the temples of the glasses conduct sound through your cheekbones, so you can hear her tinny voice. You nod.
Henry of course calls, “Loud and clear!”
“Take a seat.” Murdock’s voice is raw, like he’s getting over laryngitis. Henry sits down first. From the footlocker, Murdock removes a kit of body armor with a vest, the kind with all the pockets, buckles, and straps. The Xuritas logo over the left breast. He handles it strangely, though, as if it’s delicate. You notice black wires dangling from a pocket. He and Jansi lower the vest over Henry’s head, helping him slide his arms through the holes, then spend a moment cinching it tight. “How’s that feel?”
“Good,” says Henry, nodding and nodding. “Heavy, but real good.”
“Try standing.”
Henry does so, then makes a little catwalk twirl. “Good,” says Murdock. He takes the black wires and reaches into one of the pockets on the vest, connecting them to something. He looks to you. Your turn. When the vest lowers over you, you can feel its weight. It is very, very heavy.
Henry peaks into a pocket.
“Hey,” says Murdock sharply. “Don’t touch that.”
“What is it?”
“Just don’t touch it.”
Henry sits back, but he’s still staring down at his chest. As Murdock pulls tight the Velcro straps, you instinctually reach up and pat the breast pocket.
“What’d I say?” says Murdock. His eyes lock on yours. Something in his voice really scares you. “Don’t touch it.”
“Why?”
“Craftsmanship.”
There’s stitching at the top. Something has been sewed inside the front of the vest.
“What the hell is it?” Henry demands, staring at his chest. “Tell me.”
“Henry,” says Quinn. “Calm yourself.”
“It’s a fake,” Jansi explains. Murdock finishes strapping you in and steps away. Jansi has an enormous smile on her face. “It’s built to look like a bomb, but it is not a bomb. It’s just wires and lights and Play-Doh.”
“Huh?” Henry asks.
“We’re here to scare somebody. So this is how we’re going to scare them, right? We need to get something very specific from this person.” She reaches into a bag and hands you each a gun. You take it, gingerly at first, only to feel a false weight in your hand. “See? Fake too. Rubber. They actually use these in movies. Just put them in the holsters and leave them there. They’re for appearances.”
Murdock reaches into the footlocker now. He hands you each a device. It looks like a joystick. It has a little button at the top and a cap that protects the button.
“Oh,” Henry says.
“Seen ’em in movies too, right?” Murdock flips the cap up and pushes the button. Despite yourself, you flinch. “When the time comes, you just hold this in your hand like you’re ’bout to press it. Make a big show of it, you know? Pretend like if you press it, it’s doomsday, okay?” He tucks the trigger into one of your pockets. He does the same for Henry. Jansi continues.
“We’ll get this guy alone, and he’s going to give us what we need, understand? Just follow our instructions, and we’ll get you out in twenty minutes.”
Henry looks at you, his expression pained, but you look away. The hum of the idling truck is the only sound. They’re all looking to you.
“Let’s get to it then.”
Jansi nods approvingly. Quinn puts a radio to her lips and tells the driver to get a move on. Murdock hooks up the wires poking out of the side of your vest. He doesn’t look you in the eye. When he finishes, he goes and sits back on the footlocker and stares determinedly at the floor. He palms his bald head, his face angry, maybe distraught, maybe just tired. The truck huffs forward, and he catches you looking at him. His gaze is so unsettling, you set your eyes on the floor and try not to glance at him again. The drive takes another hour.
Henry’s heel has been jittering away for twenty minutes. You want to ask Quinn why he was chosen. He’s so young and nervous. Not that you’ve ever done anything like this before, but he’s putting you on edge. You are sweating watching him sweat. He’s not talking, just looking everywhere at once. You keep your eyes trained forward. Murdock and Jansi busy themselves at a laptop. They are looking at a schematic of a building, that much you can see. Quinn comes over to you and Henry and squats down between you. She puts a hand on each of your knees.
“I’m sure you’re nervous, but really, no need to be. We’ve planned this all very carefully. Our goal is to keep you safe. And you’re both going to go home with a hell of a cash prize.”
“Cooome onnn down,” you say. Henry and Quinn stare at you. “Price Is Right,” you explain.
The truck slows. “Here’s where we get off,” says Quinn. “Good luck.”
Quinn, Jansi, and Murdock squeeze past the stacked boxes, leaving you and Henry alone. You hear the doors shut again. The truck starts up. Henry grabs your arm.
“Do you believe them? What’s your story, where’d they find y—”
You clamp a hand over his mouth and hold a finger to your lips to get him to shut the fuck up. You point to the side of the glasses, then to his. You’re afraid, yes, but more so that this shitbrain will screw things up. The speaker spews static through your cheekbone into your ear and then Quinn’s voice.
“The driver will dock the truck, and then we’ve got a two-minute window with this loading bay clear.”
“Where are we going?” you ask.
“We’ll tell you.”
The familiar bleats, the momentum of the truck reversing. It stops with a jerk. Quinn says, “Let’s go.”
Henry follows you as you angle your body sideways to squeeze by the boxes. With a metallic scrape, you pop the doors and hop down into what looks like a small warehouse. There are rows and rows of shelves and big freezers with temperature gauges by the door handles. Boxes and crates of produce stacked on all sides. You’re confused because you thought you were going to a restaurant. A green line appears in the lenses of the glasses.
“Follow the green. Head straight back, through the double doors. That leads to a hallway. Turn left, and then head to the maintenance elevator. Fast fast fast, c’mon.”