The Gender Game by Bella Forrest (motivational novels .TXT) 📕

He retreated from the room and returned a minute later carrying the same folder he'd brought in yesterday, along with a second green-colored folder. He opened the latter and pulled out a map. Unfolding it, he spread it out on the low table in front of us. It was a plan of the lab, each floor and all its rooms clearly marked.

He pointed to the lowest level, a few doors along from the reception area. "This is the events hall, where the banquet will take place. What's required is a big distraction that will keep everyone's attention on the ground floor, leaving the highest floor"—his finger traveled up the map and rested on the large laboratory that held the egg—"unwatched," he concluded. "We won't need long to do the deed anyway. Just a few minutes."

"What kind of distraction do you have in mind?" I asked.

"Explosives," Lee replied. "In the weeks to come, my plan is to install them inside the building near the hall so that when triggered, the blast will be so destructive, security's immediate occupation will simply be attempting to get everybody out alive."

I realized that I had stopped breathing. "So, you're saying it's probable that some of the diners will lose their lives in this?"

Lee nodded and I swallowed the lump in my throat. Having committed womanslaughter twice, claiming lives shouldn't be anything to make me flinch. But of course, those incidents had been accidents. These would be cold, premeditated murders. I wasn't a murderer. I was a girl with a difficult temper. "And the egg?" I asked. "I don't understand how—"

"I'll figure out the distraction, while you will take care of the most important business: the egg."

"I'd need explosives to blow the glass."

"Yup," he said. "We'll have to work on equipping you with some. Then you will seize the egg—setting off a hot-wired alarm in the process, which will be ignored for a good while due to the commotion downstairs—and make your way up to the roof." He traced my route on the map. "There is a stairwell near the egg's lab, which leads up to the rooftop."

"The roof? Assuming I actually manage to get that far, what happens once I get up there? And won't the building itself be shaken to its core from the explosions at its base? Won't it be alight and crumbling?"

"I'll be careful in my choice of explosives," Lee replied. "The building will be burning, of course, but you'll be quick. Your focus will be extricating the egg and getting to the rooftop… I will meet you up there, and we'll have pre-arranged transport for the two of us."

I glanced back down at the map. Transport for the two of us. I could only think that meant that Matrus would be sending an aircraft to carry us both back over the river to safety…

"I still don't understand how we wouldn't be instantly blamed though," I said. "Especially if we were absent from the dinner and—"

"First," Lee said, "we won't be absent from the dinner—we'll need to discuss the specifics of this nearer the time. Second, I also won't stay away from Patrus for long in the aftermath. Once we've returned the egg to Queen Rina's palace, I'll come back discreetly, and reintegrate myself into the scene. As for your absence…" He grimaced. "Trust me when I say it's not difficult for husbands to hide their wives in Patrus. Most wives hardly go out anyway. There was a murder case last summer where it took five years for the man to be convicted, simply because nobody noticed his wife's absence."

My jaw dropped.

"It can be that bad," he assured me. "Especially if the woman is from Matrus. She typically has no family over here. Another option could be to say that you died in the blast. That might be a better way to play things… Then as for the issue of who will take the blame if not us…" He looked me in the eye. "Who do you think could be used as a scapegoat?"

Used. I didn't like that word. Still, I racked my brain. "Um… Well, it would need to be someone with regular access to the building. Someone who knew it well, and… if the bombing was to make any sense, it would have to be done by somebody who had a reason to hold a grudge against Patrus. Someone who was discontented with their life here." My voice trailed off as Lee nodded. "Who are you thinking?" I asked him.

Slipping out the red folder, he spilled the wardens' profiles out on the table before his forefinger settled on a single one.

Glaring up at me was the rugged face of Viggo Croft.

13

"Viggo?" I clarified as I stared down at his picture.

"Yes," Lee said. "He fits the bill excellently for a potential anarchist. Let me explain to you a bit more about his background and it should be clear why… I told you that he got into trouble with the law for obstruction of justice."

I nodded. Just like I did.

"Well, the circumstances surrounding that are rather interesting. Viggo used to be married—to none other than a Matrian woman. She was an emissary at the time they met. She tried to move over here but, you guessed it, found the adjustment to Patrus' culture extremely difficult. As the official story goes, her and Viggo's relationship had been tense for months. One night they got into an argument, after which she stormed out, alone. Although Viggo went out after her, she managed to shake him off and lose him. She wandered the whole night as an act of protest and, as the early morning hours drew in, she came upon a couple of drunks who had less than noble intentions.

"Fortunately for her—or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it—she had been trained in self-defense by Viggo. She stopped their assault and escaped, but she ended up killing one of the men in the process. Given that there were