We’ve both had some nice red wine, the music is perfect, it is tugging at my heart strings, this is perfect, romantic with a hint of filth, the perfect time for my phone to buzzzzz. I know that I have a few seconds before the ringtone kicks in. My right hand changes it mind, moves over to the phone and pushes ignore. At least it doesn’t call for anything more than one arm.
My right arm makes it way to her back. I like the way her tongue feels, particularly the stud she has in there… not sure exactly what word to use to describe it. My right hands feels along the bra strap onto the buckle again…
bzzzzzzttt. Perfect! its important, but thats ok, its not urgent. I wonder what it could be, for a moment, as my right arm repeats the ignore.
My right hand just strokes her back this time round. I need to allow for a minute or two. The phone could ring again but it didn’t. My body is in automatic pilot, keeping the pace but does not have my attention, not yet. One… Two… Three… Four… Five… I could as slowly as possible… Six… Seven… Eight… and there it was, not a ring, not a bzzzzzzzzttt, but a short burst bzztt. I know what is coming… One… Two… and my phone screams… Its not a call, its not urgent, not at all, its an emergency.
Why is my tongue still in her mouth? I roll her over, take my tongue out, grab my shirt, my phone and walk out as I start to button up, As I close the door, I hear her shouting out for me to call her. Ring up the lift, put my headphones on and click play. Music screams. I need to make a phone call but it’ll have to wait until I’m out of the building.
The lift pings, the door opens and reveals and rugged man with long-ish, ruffled hair, tight shirt, jeans. Can’t help but admire the man and his animal magnetism. Now that is why there should be more mirrors in the world!
I have a minute maybe 90 seconds before I need to deal with this, so I dissolve into the music – auto-pilot.
As I scream out of the garage, I call. It rings only once. “The coordinates for the base Aquila has been compromised”, he tells me. “How long do we have”, I ask. “ten to fifteen minutes. The base is already in auto-destruct with 9 minutes”, “I’ll be there in five!”.
Heavy snow, nicely under the influence of a bottle of nice red wine and I have five minutes when it takes me 20 on a good day. Now, this is what I live for. As the phone disconnects, music comes back, loud and and the whole car reverberates with the bass as the pedal hits the metal – blitzing through the traffic, I can feel the adrenaline hit as I reach over to the passenger street to grab the hip flash and bring it to my lips. I can feel it tingling down my throat. The only thing that could make this better is a cigarette, but I have to wait until the next stretch of straight, and then I spot the lights.
Hmmm, I wasn’t expecting them for another 30 seconds. Oh well! as I turn into a corner, I notice the the lights are red and cars a backed up ahead, opposite traffic is trickling down slowly, so I take the only sensible choice I have, to weave through oncoming traffic and slide through the lights turning right. I pick up the pack of cigarettes from the passenger seat, flick it open and bring it to my mouth so I can fish one out. Grab the lighter and light it.
As I look in the rear-view mirror, the lights are already so far behind that I can’t seem them through the snow.
I have a minute, 90 seconds to relax.
I can see the door opening – no matter how many times I have enjoyed the automations, I still appreciate it – the less I have to do the better.
The car screeches to a halt as I open the door and get out. The door open automatically – you gotta love technology. I walk through and there is a countdown timer projected onto the wall with a cartoon of a smiley face exploding instead of the zero’s. That still cracks me up! Four minutes and thirty seconds to go. I’m thirty seconds early. I hang a right into the kitchen, straight to the fridge to pick up a nice cold bottle of beer.
Walking back into the main space, with just over four minutes to go, I am drawn to the conference table in the middle with all the pizza – I need to pick up a slice.
As I walk over to the table, I am told that the outer perimeter sensors have detected an incursion. That gives us another seven minutes. An extra three minutes. They are getting faster. I’m glad for the pizza – I wonder if they knew that I was in the mood for some pepperoni.
As I enjoy the pizza, I ponder on whether to delay the auto-destruct by a few minutes so that I can catch a few more of them in the blast. My train of though is interrupted by an informational dialog popping up on the wall to tell me that all sensitive information has been wiped clean and that all personnell has been evacuated. Two minutes to go – we are also getting faster, but we are down by one minute.
“Delay the auto-destruct by four minutes”, I tell them. “But that’ll give them a full minute” responded Arin. “Good!” I thought and nodded to arin. The timer was reset.
As the countdown went down to a minute, the building sensors told us that they were just entering the building and I imagined it. They think that they are early, that they beat the timer. I know that they will see the welcome banner as they walk in – I like that! This is the first time that they will have seen that. They have never gotten this far before.
And they’ll meander in, with all their gear, signalling and shouting, the room must be filled with adrenalin and testosterone. For a moment, I feel bad for them, but let it go. As the timer goes down to ten seconds, I wonder if they got to the heart of the building, whether they are trying to bring the dead machines back to life, opening up filing cabinets with cute little messages on them. I wonder if they smiled.
As the counter hit zero, I know that they heard it, the explosion right outside the building. There are no longer any exits to this building. The building no longer has any windows – the explosion blew them out. It’ll take them a second to figure out what happened. All of the walls of the building now light up with a timer, and the soft sweet voice of a girl counting down… Five… Four… Three.. Two… One… Zero… The zero is a smiley face. It teases them for a second, then explodes, and so does the whole building. They didn’t stand a chance.