Animals

Day 6 Part 2

Still Friday, May 15th

Mitch's words echoed around my head like a cartoon balloon zipping around the room as the air was released from it, and it took me what seemed like minutes to finally comprehend what he said as he quickly turned from me and began to dig through the papers on his desk. They were making a bomb. Plutonium. To blow up somewhere important in the United States and unleash anarchy. With a ten-pound box?

"Woah wait a minute." My hands waved as though pushing away the crazy idea. "How do you know it's Plutonium based on the weight?"

With barely a pause to look at me, he said over his shoulder, "Plutonium went missing. About a cup of it which is just over ten pounds." If the situation was different, I might've taken a moment to feel smug for correctly guessing the weight. Naturally, Mitch had to ruin it with his next words. "It only takes about three pounds to make an effective plutonium bomb, and if they have ten, they're either making three small ones or one massive one."

Chills like icy fingers raked down my back as the gravity of the situation weighed heavily upon my shoulders, and I had to lean against the dresser with the TV sitting on it to keep my knees from giving out. Mitch crossed the room to a thin backpack in a chair by the door, not having found what he wanted on the desk. Casually, he continued his thoughts aloud as he ripped open the bag. "If the Midnight Anarchists are planning to blow up something, we should hope they're not using all the plutonium in one bomb."

"Why?"

Mitch frowned up at me like he'd forgotten I was even there as he moved to toss the covers off his bed. "Because the city won't be there when it's done." Mitch picked up his laptop, which had been hiding under his pillow, as I slowly sunk into the chair at his desk.

If it were me leading the Midnight Anarchists into attack, I would want to drop the bomb where the population count was high, some place where it would devastate the country. Some place of power. It seemed only logical that Greg Murphey would think the same thing. The most populated place in the U.S. was New York. There were millions of people who lived in that one place, from children who've barely had their first birthday to those who've surpassed their 96th, but all of them would be dead if we didn't stop the Midnight Anarchists. Who knew if it would be New York or a remote town, but it didn't matter if the population was 10 or 10,000,000. I couldn't let anyone die because of my mistake.

I stood quickly, snapping back to reality as Mitch slammed his laptop shut. I realized I'd been seated for nearly seven minutes just lost in my own thoughts. "So what do we do?"

"What do you mean?" Mitch zipped up his backpack with the laptop inside, gathering the things he'd need.

"Well, we have to do something. You're big, bad CIA. Surely you must have a plan."

He stopped suddenly, standing at full height as he evaluated me. "I do. And it doesn't involve you, so stay out of it. Go back to your life and forget everything you know." He paused at the door to grumble with annoyance. "And stop fucking following me."

I couldn't believe what my brain just told me I'd heard as I watched the door swing open. How could I go back to my life now and continue living as though I didn't know about the impending doom of millions of lives? How could I possibly return to snapping photos of infidelity like it was the only thing that mattered? How was I supposed to just forget everything?

My mouth pulled into an angry frown as I stomped after him, hearing the door slam shut behind me. "Hey!"

I could almost see the heavy roll of Mitch's eyes through the back of his head. "Seriously, Walker. Get lost."