“Hold your fire. I have a lady here and won’t be afraid to blow her brains out if anyone tries anything. Here’s the deal—I want a ride out of here on that chopper. Make sure no one is on it, except for the pilot. And just in case anyone is even thinking of trying something funny, be forewarned this bag is packed with enough explosives to wipe out the entire block. I have the detonator in my hand, which can be activated by two ways. It can be activated by this little button—”
He raised the newspaper slightly above his eyes. It had been awile that he was keeping watch. With frightening accuracy, he could predict her daily routine. To remain inconspicuous he altered his parking spot frequently, and appeared only five minutes before she was expected to leave work. He had mentally rehearsed each step for weeks now. The anticipation gave him a slight rush. He closed his eyes and smiled wickedly as he envisioned his plan for her. His heart thumped wildly. It was so loud that all other sounds were temporarily blocked out. As he continued to imagine the scene, he only envisioned a sea of red.
"The second last line has me worried. I’m not sure how to interpret it. I’m guessing it is a relevant clue, perhaps a very important one, but at the moment I can’t offer any insight. The words design or management are very awkward, so I’m guessing he’s trying to throw in a clue without making it too obvious. He definitely wants us to sweat this out and won’t give up his upper hand.”
“Grant you sounded urgent over the phone, has something happened?”
“I’ve lost the love of my life. My wife, Lindsey, had been battling breast cancer for a few years. After extensive treatment she went into remission. I thought she was getting better.” He fought back tears before continuing. “But it came back more aggressively than before. She fought hard, and I offered her encouragement the whole time.