Simon Locke: A Thriller in Progress - Chapter Two

I’ve been working on a thriller. I plan to release it Chapter by Chapter here on The Mad Minute.

I don’t have a title yet, but I’m not particularly worried about it.

For now, I’m just calling it Simon Locke: A Thriller in Progress.

Here’s Chapter Two:

The rain-washed brick on Lime Street glistened in the pale moonlight. The park wasn’t much of a park, more like dead grass, a rusted swing set, and an overflowing municipal trash can. Thankfully, the untrimmed trees and unkempt bushes provided ample cover and concealment.

Astrid Myers stood by the trash can. She scanned, then bent down and placed an object underneath it. Standing back up, she pulled a Samsung burner phone out of her GORUCK backpack. The phone was nearly untraceable, save for whatever footage was captured at Walmart. She wasn’t too worried. She’d been wearing a wig and a hoodie. Then she dialed the ten-digit number. A number she’d put to memory, a number she hoped to soon forget.

One ring. Then a click.

“It’s done?” the voice said. It was male. Eastern European. Maybe Russian.

“It is.” she replied.

“Good girl. And the ticket?”

Astrid was unsure which she hated more, the patronizing tone or the fact that whomever was on the other side of the call held her father hostage.

“Placed in the Ziploc bag and wedged under the trash can as instructed.”

The man didn’t reply.

“Now where’s my father? We’re done!” she said.

“Almost.”

Astrid stopped. She scanned the park. Nothing moved.

“I’ve done what you asked,” she said. “That was our deal.”

“It feels a bit chilly after all the rain. You should have worn a coat.” he replied. “Your white t-shirt highlights your position rather well. You make an easy target from almost any elevation.”

The phone went dead.

Astrid didn’t freeze. Freezing was for amateurs. She pulled the SIM card from the phone, snapped it in half, and dropped the pieces into the trash can.

Once more she scanned the environment. Multiple story buildings were on the perimeter, though the first three floors of any of them would be obscured by the trees and bushes.

Someone was up there in one of them. Watching.

She didn’t look up. It would have only confirmed what she knew.

She turned left out of the park and kept her aggressive stride, heading for the nearest blind alley.

Surveillance detection routes weren’t new to her. But executing this one successfully might be the most important one of her life.