The meeting ended half an hour ago. I go outside to get a breath of fresh air, and I stand there in front of the hotel, under the blossoming spring sky. Nothing about it seems lovely or exciting anymore. All I imagine are clouds of smog and embers in the parched breeze.
Explosives, huh? Ten electrical detonators packed with TNT and dynamite sound splendid. Bunny said something about his friends from a construction company lending him the bombs decades ago. He intended to use them in the m******e that occurred between Cygnus and Thylacine but held off and stashed them away. Probably a good choice.
It’s obvious who’s names are slotted in team blow-up-the-carnival. Bunny, Alistair, and I are the only ones who’ve seen the factory. Bunny’s holding a mandatory “workshop” on how to handle the e
