Trinh/Granger Residence
St. Paul, Maryland
“I
think that deserves a reward.”
Tommy Granger smiled at his girlfriend, Mai Trinh, as she hugged him. Her wandering hand went unnoticed with visions of the car he might buy due to his recent work with the CIA. “I should be getting paid soon. We might be able to get that new car we’ve been dreaming about. That’s reward enough.”
“That would be nice.” Mai ran a finger down his chest. “But that wasn’t the reward I was thinking of.”
He grinned at her and moved in for some nookie when his phone vibrated, followed several more times in rapid succession.
Mai stopped. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know.” He brought up his messages then popped over to his podcast’s comments section and gasped as they rapidly rolled in. “Oh my God!”
“What?”
“The professors are wanted for mass murder!”
Mai pulled back. “What? Why?”
Tommy grabbed his laptop and checked Twitter, one of the better places to get unfiltered news quickly. It meant much of what was there was bullshit, but something like this would be trending if it were true. He gasped at what he saw. “There was a bombing at the Guggenheim in Spain. You know, that museum they were going to.”
“To see that Bible?”
“Yeah.”
“But why are they wanted for murder?”
“It says here they were seen leaving moments before the blast with the Bible. It says they’re known animal rights fanatics. They think they blew up the gala to make a political statement.”
“That’s insane! We have to tell them that’s insane!”
Tommy agreed. “It has to be a mistake. I’m going to try calling them.” He dialed both their numbers, both going direct to voicemail as he continued to work his laptop. He tossed his phone on the couch beside him. “Voicemail.” He gasped. “Oh my God, look at this!” He pulled up security camera footage showing the professors leaving the building, with the Bible, and climbing into a vehicle, the comments attached indicating it was taken only a few minutes before the blast.
“It’s them!” Mai stared at the footage then replayed it. “And he has the Bible.” She turned to him. “Could…could this be true?”
Tommy firmly shook his head. “No, there’s no way that they’re responsible for this. Something else is going on. You know that.”
She nodded. “You’re right, of course. What should we do?”
“Well, that footage has to be fake somehow. We need help.”
“Who should we call?” Her eyes widened. “Dean Milton!”
Tommy smiled. “Good idea. You call him. I’m going to call someone else who might be able to analyze this footage.”
“Who?”
“My friend
at the CIA.” He dialed the number and cursed.
“What?”
“It says the number is disconnected.”
