Rekindle

3

Friday, 11:25 PM

Bridget hurried me off to a door to across the hall, actually knocking for once. A muffled voice inside droned, "What."

"We're coming in," she sang, opening the door.

"What do you mean we—oh."

Tom, the driver from earlier, stole a quick glance and fell silent once spotting me. He turned back around to the wall, where a large, illuminated dry erase board covered in notes stood, covered in a rough map sketch. Bridget skipped up next to him and examined the board. Cautiously, I walked up next to her. The writing on the board was rather messy, certain words underlined, angles and a couple simple formulas written.

"No, no, you can't put me there," Bridget said. She erased an X at the corner of a building's rooftop, picking up the marker from the tray below and redrawing the X at the opposite corner. "There's no way I'd get a good shot from across the roof. The angle was all wrong."

He took the marker from her and pointed at an O on an adjacent rooftop, marked 'approx. 3 minutes.' "If and when they put someone here, you're done. They know we're coming, but can't stake out in a city. They're bound to have a call system as soon as we show up."

She snatched the marker back and pointed at her previous position. "Well there's no way I'm getting a clear shot from there."

"Wait," I interrupted. Both of them whipped around to face me, somewhat bewildered. With a swallow of confidence, I took the blue marker from the tray and went to a different drawing, one that wasn't a bird's eye view. A red spot was placed in the top floor of the building, labeled Room 804, Fishinger, 3:45-4. A title above said he'd be at the back of the building, window nearby. I carefully analyzed the situation for a minute: one person was going to rush in, and then another one after about two minutes. Someone else was situated in the hallway outside the room, probably standing guard, and the spot Bridget wasn't happy with was on the rooftop across from the target's building on the complete opposite corner, giving her a very difficult shot into the window over the edge of the rooftop. She almost had to somehow curve the bullet to be on target. But, the O on the other building and another with a question mark in the window told me she was in a risky position. I began to draw up a new plan.

"Get this window open," I said, shifting the one X to the window Bridget was aimed to shoot at, "And Bridget goes down here." I erased her X and positioned her at the foot of the building.

"How's that going to work?" she asked, head cocked, brow furrowed.

I drew the O at the edge of the window, drawing a line from her X to the new O. "Lean him out the window, and Bridget shoots straight up. This guy," I pointed to the O on the roof, "Won't see her on the roof if she's eight stories down."

"What if he's real?" Tom pointed to the question-marked circle.

"Then move her here." I positioned her along the wall of the building across from her target's. "You run the risk of your target seeing her, but neither long range shooter has a chance unless he looks straight down for whatever reason." I pointed to the question mark. "And if he's real."

Both of them fell quiet as I capped the marker and set it back in the tray, quite proud of my problem-solving. Bridget nodded knowingly, Tom keeping his hand on his chin. "It's good," she said. "I didn't think of the vertical shot."

I smiled to myself. "Might be a weird angle, but I'm sure you can do it."

"Can I do it," Bridget said, chuckling. "You're so adorable."

"I still don't think it'll work," Tom said, taking his hand off his chin and letting it hit his thigh. "They could have a fourth."

The corner of Bridget's mouth turned up. "Tomothy, you're forgetting we have five now." She looked to me, and I confidently smiled back.