I understood, in part, the delay. There was specialized equipment that needed to be ordered from trusted sources. Then that equipment had to be moved, which took time and planning. If any of it was discovered on a routine spot inspection by the wardens, then it would be seized and the people we had hired to help us would be tracked down, questioned, and potentially executed.
I also understood Owen’s insistence that I remain underground at all times. I hated it, but I understood it. Each minute topside represented a risk of me getting discovered or caught. One slip-up and I would jeopardize everything that we were hoping to accomplish on the mission.
Still, none of that helped me to deal with the claustrophobic feelings of being trapped down in the small space of Thomas’ lair. I tried to remind myself that I had just lived for over two weeks underground in The Green’s facility, but it didn’t help. For one thing, that facility was much larger. I wasn’t constantly having to step around someone or over something to get from point A to point B.
Calling Thomas’ home a hole in the wall would be a fair comparison. The two rooms that were off to the side of the main one were cramped, with even tinier bathrooms to bathe in. Amber and I got more space in the second room, seeing as only the two of us shared it. Owen, Quinn, Solomon, and occasionally Thomas shared the room on the other side, and it was an equal size.
There were no beds to sleep on, so we made nests on the floor—similar to what Tim had done in my room in the facility—and curled up on the unforgiving concrete. It was cold, hard, and unyielding, and I hadn’t slept well since we arrived.
Every morning after we woke, Owen would hand us our assignments. While everyone else received assignments that would send them topside—like going to see the weapons supplier or finding someone who could secure night vision goggles—I was always given the same duty: Stay with Thomas and make sure he had everything he needed.
Even though I had come to understand Thomas, that didn’t mean I necessarily liked him. Pitied, yes—but the man was hard to read, and even harder to get along with. After a few tries at being social, I had given up and busied myself studying the plans or cleaning my weapon.
I tried to work out, but Thomas complained about me doing sit-ups and push-ups in the main room, then in any of the side rooms. He said the repetitive motion made him nauseous.
I didn’t argue with him—there was ultimately no point. It was his place. I considered, briefly, moving my daily exercise outside, but the smell coming from the sewer alone was enough to dissuade me.
So, when Owen breezed in one day after meeting with his transportation guy, saying that the last piece of what we needed had fallen into his hands, I could’ve kissed him—that was how eager I was to get out of this hole and finally get what Viggo needed.
We waited an hour for Quinn and Solomon to return from their assignment for the day—securing the final shipment of ammunition we needed for the more high-powered rifles that Owen had secured—and sat down to discuss the operation once again.
It was fairly simple, although separating into two teams to secure one objective was a bit of a gamble. I had brought up the point with Owen a few days ago, and he had agreed, but there wasn’t any better solution—I knew because we had talked all the options out.
The plan was for Owen, Quinn, and Amber to go into the warehouse to search for Viggo’s laser, while Solomon and I were supposed to be inside the office building doing the same. Because we weren’t sure which place it was located, lots were drawn to see who would go where. It was frustrating, because I wanted to be the one who found the laser, but there was no telling where it was. Ultimately, whoever found it would notify the others, and we would move to stage two.
Solomon and I were supposed to sneak out the side door of the office, avoid the guards, and come around to open the back door of the warehouse, meeting up with the other three. We would return together to the rendezvous location at the top of the hill.
All of that sounded simple, but we all knew that nothing ever went according to plan. However, it was impossible to plan for every contingency, so if things went bad, good communication was the only way to keep us all alive and have any hope of achieving our directive.
Owen passed out an ear bud and a black piece of fabric to all of us. He explained to me that it was a subvocalizer, a piece of tech that would allow us to talk to each other without articulating the words out loud. Securing these would have been very difficult, and very expensive. The electrical parts had been tucked into the black fabric, which was made from the same material our suits were—this meant the subvocalizer would vanish along with us after we activated the suits.