Animals

Day 22

Thursday, May 31st, 8AM

I was wrapped up in Mitch when Stan called. In one instant, I had his arms and heat surrounding me, and in the next we were hopping around the room in the nude as we hastened to clothe ourselves. Mitch left to run back to his room where his day clothes were while I balanced, unsuccessfully, to stuff my legs in my jeans.

Stan's orders were to dress in civilian clothing so we wouldn't cause a stir, but our shirts had to be loose enough to hide a bulletproof vest. I pulled my hair into a ponytail as I swished water and toothpaste around in my mouth.

Mitch let himself back in, having left the door cracked when he left, and was dressed in a blue plaid shirt and faded blue jeans. I stared, having rarely seen him in a color other than black. I didn't even realize he had another color in his wardrobe, let alone plaid.

"You ready?" he said.

I nodded, spitting the minty water into the sink and washing it away with water. His long legs strode confidently to the waiting black car outside and I had to jog to keep up with him. My heart hadn't settled at a normal rate since I woke up, and I doubted that was going to change today. Today people would die if we couldn't stop this bomb. I had no idea what it looked like or how big it was. It felt like trying to shoot a gun with a blindfold on.

The car took us to an undisclosed location that looked like an office space that hadn't been rented out yet. Laid out on various tables for the agents was everything they might need for this operation. Up front, Stan was talking to one of the men from the plane with his arms crossed and his lips pursed. The tense set of his shoulders told me he was as nervous as I was, though he hid it better. Behind him was a white board containing the faces of the men and women to watch for during the stakeout. Those who were most likely to take a tiny bomb containing Unichtium into the building. Of course, Lester and Limbo were on there.

"Which of this do I get?" I asked, feelings slightly overwhelmed by the flooded room.

"Follow me." Mitch directed us towards the first table where the vests were. "Are you wearing an under shirt?"

"Yes."

"Good. Take your shirt off." He said it as casually as if he had asked for a glass of water.

I turned my back to the room and pulled my shirt over my head while Mitch picked up a vest and began unstrapping one side. He pulled it over my head then attached the left side Velcro. He wasn't gentle as he tightened whatever needed it, a faraway look in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

He glanced up from the straps to my face for half a second. "I'm alright. Be careful, okay? Always be alert."

"Okay."

Mitch was as professional as he was the first time he suited me up like this. He was less distant now, and I had an easier time reading him. It was hard to believe we had been in that situation only nine days ago. Nine days ago, I was walking into the Midnight Stop-and-Shop for the first time. Only nine days since I'd met Lester.

After Mitch was satisfied with my vest, he pulled off his own shirt and began situating a vest over his white wife-beater. I pulled my shirt back over my head, pulling at the areas where it felt tighter because of the bulk. Another man stopped at the vests as Mitch and I moved onto the ear pieces. He picked one and wrapped it around my ear before letting me push the small bud inside. The wire was a clear coil that was easily visible and connected to a straight wire that Mitch pinned to the inside of my shirt.

"These are mics and listening devices," Mitch said as he put on his own. "It'll pick up whatever you say and transmit it to everyone's earpiece."