Chapter 6
TOM OWENS INSISTED that all electronic and explosive material be stored in the room he was living in. Since Ellis approached him four months or so ago, Owens had located a safe house for the group by hacking into Airbnb rental records and blacking out dates to ensure the property would stay empty.
A light rap on his open bedroom door made him turn his head from the closet.
Kimmy stood there bundled in a heavy blanket. She said, “Can I come in?”
Owens nodded.
“How’d you even find this place?”
“I saw it online. I wrote a computer program that let me look at the updates the owner of the house wrote over the last two years. I realized he never seemed to rent the place out in December anyway, so all I did was add a line to take it off the website so no one could inquire about it while we’re here.
The owner has a bunch of properties, so I doubt he’ll ever notice. ”
Kimmy sat on the edge of his bed. She said, “The way you can do those kinds of things is super cool.”
Owens shrugged. He didn’t know how to respond to compliments. He never had. He wasn’t like Ellis Warrenton, who seemed to smile and get practically anything he wanted. The guy knew how to talk to people. Talking to people was a skill that had always eluded Tom Owens.
Owens’s attention snapped to the doorway when he heard Pry’s low voice.
The giant man wore a flannel shirt that made him look like an oversized lumberjack.
Owens had learned that Pry’s real name was Leonard, but he was too unsettled by the man’s unpredictable behavior, as well as his size, to call him by that name.
Pry looked at Kimmy and said, “What the hell are you doing in there?”
“Just talking to Tom.”
“From what I’ve seen, Tom doesn’t really want to talk to you. Or anyone else.” He turned his head and said to Owens, “Isn’t that right?”
Owens shook his head. “I don’t mind talking with Kimmy. She’s nice and asks interesting questions.” He suddenly felt nervous, trying to judge Pry’s tone. He knew that the big man was attracted to Kimmy—she seemed to attract a lot of men’s attention—but somehow he sensed Pry was angry at her.
Kimmy spoke up. “Don’t try and scare him, Pry. We’re just talking.”
“In his damn bedroom.”
“You should be happy he found us this place. You can always go sleep in your storage locker if you want. But now we each have our own room in a nice clean house with decent heat. I noticed when it gets real cold, you forget about that cot over at the storage locker.”
Pry let out a low growl and stomped away.
Owens said to Kimmy, “Is he your boyfriend?”
“No. I don’t have a boyfriend.” She patted the bed next to her and waited until Owens sat down.
She scooted closer to him. Then she draped an arm around his shoulders.
She leaned in close and said, “You’re way too smart to let a guy like Pry scare you.
You’ve turned our whole group around. Look at the way you made that bomb and planted it at the Office of Technology.
It was genius. And it’s the only thing anyone’s talking about on TV.
You’re going to do great things for us.” Then she leaned over and kissed Owens on the cheek.
He could feel his face flush. He knew she was right. Their first lesson to society about the dangers of technology had been almost flawless. He was only sorry there hadn’t been any customers inside the office when the bomb went off. That would have brought even more attention.
The photos of the young clerk who had died—Abby something—seemed to be getting a lot of play on TV.
Even CNN had run a story on it. The newscaster had speculated it was a disgruntled citizen.
Owens always thought most New Yorkers were disgruntled.
The newscaster’s statement had made no sense.
When Owens thought about it, most statements from the media made little or no sense.
He wondered what he could do to make more of a statement. Bring down a building? Plant a bomb in the sewer system and collapse a road? Maybe. He glanced into the open closet.
At least now he had plenty of supplies to make a bomb that would really take over a news cycle.