[Originally posted at Slacktivist (page 2).]
[Inspired by someone saying that of a certain character, "the only reason he's an architect and not an author is you can't blow up a book in an epic "you don't appreciate me!" flounce," to which my response was, "Why not?]
Ryan checked his watch for a third time. If everything was going according to plan Domino would be distracting the night watchman right now. The problem was that there was no way to know. If he was still at his post then the moment Ryan stepped in front of a camera back up would be called and Ryan wouldn't know anything had gone wrong until he was arrested.
He took a breath, steadied himself, and then sprinted out of hiding. He knew that speed wouldn't matter here. If things went right he could stroll to his destination and have everything work perfectly, if things went wrong no amount of running would help. He sprinted because he was afraid that if he didn't go as fast as he could he'd lose his nerve and back down.
When he reached the warehouse door he fumbled with the key, dropped it, picked it up, tried to insert it upside-down, dropped it again, and finally opened the door. The warehouse was dark, of course. Ryan pulled out his flashlight, and tried to turn it on. It didn't work. He switched it off then back to on, still nothing. He shook it. Nothing. He hit it several times. It turned on.
The run was massive -millions of books- normally he would have been flattered by the faith it took to print that many books. The first run of his first book was 500. But every single one of the new books was an affront to everything he believed. The company had defiled his vision and he wasn't going to stand for that.
He pulled off his backpack and got out the c-4 and accelerant.
He didn't know how much time he took placing charges.
When he left the warehouse he almost expected it to be daylight. Once he thought he was at a safe distance he turned around, pulled out the detonator, and pushed the button. He knew he shouldn't just stand there and watch, but he wanted to see the corruption of his vision die in fire. The explosions were a beauty to behold, the sound was much louder than he'd expected. Ears ringing he disappeared into the night.
[Original Work Index]