SETH JOHNSON'S HIDEOUT
Seth sat on a tattered couch in his hideout, his hands trembling as the weight of the situation bore down on him.
He couldn't sit still. He had to stand up. Muttering to himself, he paced back and forth. "Miguel survived... Damn it! This wasn’t supposed to happen. I had it all figured out," he said.
He scratched his head in frustration. "But he’s out of the way for now. No one knows if he’ll pull through," he added. "Everyone will be too busy looking for the cause of the bomb explosion to worry about me, especially since they won’t be able to trace it to me."
He stopped to glance out the window, paranoid, as though someone might be watching. "By the time he wakes up, I’ll be far away from this country," he muttered.
A knock on the door shattered his thoughts. H
