08-04-2014, 05:11 PM
Dane's week was a haze of emotion. He slept, he ate, he moved, he behaved. But he was not a man. He was a carcass of useless mass roaming from task to task.
He drew ten thousand Mockingbird cards upon all varieties of paper. It'd be a little telling to have a random address in Mexico City suddenly buying up the paper upon which his epithet was enscribed. So he journeyed to farthest stores in the city to purchase his stock. Office store index cards... drugstore index cards... school supply shops. Everywhere he could think of he'd buy two or three hundred. He raised no red flags. Other than the dirty looks the locals shot him when he spoke his crisp accented English. He'd roar with power and smiled an invitation to play. Only one idiot was dumb enough to take him up on the offer.
Only when he reached the magical ten-thousand Mockingbird card mark was his mind capable of focusing on another subject. The mark for his demonstration. The building that would be the center stage for a great fireworks display.
He picked a residential condo building in the downtown Mexico City skyline. It was flanked by corporate office buildings and it was positioned in the shadow of government departments. But this building was special. Because it wasn't special at all. Who would want to demolish a building of insignificance when its neighbors were so much more symbolic?
That was the symbol, after all. And, he found out that a powerful cartel family owned property on the top floor. The very family that was rumored to have bombed the Embassy.
This should put their rumors at ease.
Midnight, Friday night, Dane left his rental home with only a black bag in hand. To the suspicious eye, it was filled with money, but despite the fall of darkness, and his apparent isolation, nobody approached. Not even a trio of young men sitting on a curb smoking what Dane assumed was some sort of drug. They watched him though. They watched him closely.
He drew ten thousand Mockingbird cards upon all varieties of paper. It'd be a little telling to have a random address in Mexico City suddenly buying up the paper upon which his epithet was enscribed. So he journeyed to farthest stores in the city to purchase his stock. Office store index cards... drugstore index cards... school supply shops. Everywhere he could think of he'd buy two or three hundred. He raised no red flags. Other than the dirty looks the locals shot him when he spoke his crisp accented English. He'd roar with power and smiled an invitation to play. Only one idiot was dumb enough to take him up on the offer.
Only when he reached the magical ten-thousand Mockingbird card mark was his mind capable of focusing on another subject. The mark for his demonstration. The building that would be the center stage for a great fireworks display.
He picked a residential condo building in the downtown Mexico City skyline. It was flanked by corporate office buildings and it was positioned in the shadow of government departments. But this building was special. Because it wasn't special at all. Who would want to demolish a building of insignificance when its neighbors were so much more symbolic?
That was the symbol, after all. And, he found out that a powerful cartel family owned property on the top floor. The very family that was rumored to have bombed the Embassy.
This should put their rumors at ease.
Midnight, Friday night, Dane left his rental home with only a black bag in hand. To the suspicious eye, it was filled with money, but despite the fall of darkness, and his apparent isolation, nobody approached. Not even a trio of young men sitting on a curb smoking what Dane assumed was some sort of drug. They watched him though. They watched him closely.