Pool_2

could use the bugs to time the boomer. Blow the whole place in one toot." "No. You see what you're doing? Thinking. Don't think! Explosion? Has to look like a robbery or maybe a dispute. Give me that drill and the tape. Go check the computer and come back with the kit in a few minutes. Don't mess up the office or screw up any files. We leave this place looking the same as when we came in." Marcus thought not. Mick's eyes were just accommodating and the fireplace chimney gave him the landmark he needed. "I'll put one just past the chimney," was mumbled to himself as his accomplice's voice was getting, once again, distant. A pen light held in his teeth could have worked in two ways. It could reveal a doctor balled up behind a chimney. It could also indicate how far away an intruder was who was heading toward the chimney. It depends on one's expectations and their sensitivity to the situation. What is more dangerous, a gun or surprise? In danger, reflexes, skill, and coolness count. Context counts. It didn't matter how deadly the situation was, Macaluso couldn't help but reflect on Aver’s rat story. "Step step step step, approaching my mark" and the unsuccessful outcome that, then, was comic but now could be lethal, one way or the other. But he lacked something. Strange. Why? That heightened state thing. Something was missing. It was something important. "Daht wilw be wight ower da dining woom," Mick muddled with the pen clenched in his teeth, proceeding on all fours along the squeaky wooden flooring that ended just past the chimney, pulling out the tape measure as he went. "Measure twice," he thought. Had the wooden flooring ended one foot sooner, he might not have caught that baseball bat right in the face just the moment he pulled the flashlight out of his mouth. His head wasn't Chuck's sand bag, it was better! A had a far more satisfying collapsing crackling sound! It was a good uplifting hit, a definite home run, driving this pesky