Byte Back | 6 Underground

13. Hazard

June 11th, 10:44 a.m.
Haunted House, California Desert

Five, One, and I were standing around the table, trying to figure out how to best perform surgery in a moving car. Obviously, Five was against it, given to their last blood-filled bullet removal surgery.

"Blood is a biohazard, One. I don't want that staining the seats," I said, agreeing with Five.

"Blood is a biohazard," One mocked my tone.

An engine sound was faint. Once it was turned off, Three, Seven, and Four's voices got louder as they got closer.

"I don't think that makes sense, mate," Four said.

"Hear me out, though. That's why resistance doesn't work. Or at least not most of the time," Seven answered.

"I have no idea what the fuck you guys are talking about," Three said, coming in.

Five and Four locked eyes. She looked away immediately. I felt awkward because I was standing between them.

"Think about it, though. The Universe doesn't understand negatives. That's why fighting against something doesn't work. We should be fighting for something. For peace, for equality."

One put his hand on Seven's shoulder to shut him up. "Alright, don't start getting philosophical."

"What are you guys doing?" Two asked as she came in.

Three walked up to her and whispered something in her ear. She looked at him devilishly yet appeared unhappy.

"We're planning what to do if you get shot through a window again," One answered.

She scoffed. "You're annoying." She walked toward the table and looked at me. "Are there any alleys where people can't bother us?"

"Not close to the Mart. Or downtown for that matter. Everyone walks everywhere, at any time," I told her.

"Fuck," she muttered. Two knew someone was going to get shot.

"It's okay," One spoke, "it shouldn't be too bad."

"'It shouldn't be too bad'? Do you remember the amount of blood Two lost?" Five reminded him.

Three spoke before One could answer. "We should get a delivery truck. No one would suspect anything." He looked at Four. "Like last time."

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea," I said. "You would drive it, right?" I asked Three.

He nodded. "Yeah. I could be Four's Uber again."

"Everything would go according to plan," I said.

"Hey, speaking of the plan," Three started and looked at One. "Let's go through the timeline now that we're here."

One groaned dramatically. "But that's so boring! Why can't we go over it once we're there?"

"Because we don't want it to be a shit show, jackass," Five was on the verge of anger.

"I'll go over it," Two intervened.

One stepped in front of her and said, "No, no, no. I'll go over it. You sit there and look pretty."

She flipped him off and stood still while she let Three embrace her. Their PDA had escalated over time.

The leader took out his maps and blueprints and placed them on the table. "I will be at the parking lot, with Eight and Seven. Two, you will pretend to be a rich Frenchwoman. Three, you'll be someone who loves to gamble. Five, you'll be a doctor. Foxwell invited all three of you to the party, we made sure of that," he said, referring to him and me. "Four, you will install Wi-fi pods on Foxwell's apartment windows as well as on his office's. Seven, you'll kill the security guards who will be guarding Foxwell's office. Eight, you'll seduce Mr. Foxwell and come back to Seven and me as soon as you're done with him. Any questions?" We all shook our heads. "Excellent."

June 11th, 11:56 a.m.
433 N Wells St, Chicago

It was a shame that the Hood family did not accept his invitation. Technically, they didn't, but Blake Hood's older brother did. Harrison Hood claimed that his mother dislikes pity from others. Especially when it came from rich snobs like Mr. Foxwell.

"I just don't understand, Cass," Dominic said, as he placed a peppermint tea bag into his teapot. "I do not understand them."

"Look at the bright side," his assistant answered. "Her older brother agreed to come. You'll have just enough for the press."

"It's a shame. I wanted to see the authentic, motherly suffering from Mrs. Hood."

Mr. Foxwell's charm clouded his dark side. Although Ms. Wolfe knew this, she still cared for her boss.

"It's strange," Dominic started, "I have never seen Blake's face, yet I have such a strong connection to her, I feel like."

Cassandra was furious, like the past three months. "In what sense, sir?"

"I don't know. She struggled in her family to be heard, so she had to give in to their criminal tendencies in order to fit in."

"But you have never committed a crime, sir."

They both knew he had. They both knew he got his billions from other people's obliviousness. Never were his crimes spoken of. "I know. But I was forced to join Foxwell Industries to make my dad like me."

A martyr was what Dominic Foxwell was. Cassandra Wolfe thought he was the most attractive martyr that ever existed. Her emotions always clouded her judgment whenever it came to Mr. Foxwell.

She took a sip of her Starbucks cup. "If you had the opportunity, would you meet Blake?"

He poured tea in his teacup. "Fuck yes. I would have sex with her. That's how much I admire her."

Cassandra was astounded by his straightforwardness. First, he invites her to his home, then he makes her sit on his couch, and now this. She loved spending time with him outside of work, yet she could not shake the feeling that a 22-year-old dead girl had more chances to have sex with Dominic than her.

She took another sip of her drink. "I saw that you added people to the guest list," she tried to change the topic.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Those people will bring me the money the Hood family didn't," he simply said.

She looked at him attentively. All of a sudden, her lips were on his. It was just a peck. But it was enough for Mr. Foxwell to pull away.

He realized what he had done. He had asked for this the moment he invited her to his apartment.

"I'm sorry, Cassandra. This was very unprofessional of me. I need you to leave." He walked to the exit and motioned her to go.

The confused assistant stood up, Starbucks cup in hand, and walked toward the door. "Goodbye, sir," she said before exiting her boss' apartment, disappointed in herself.