Warning! This story contains instances of cursing and violence which may be inappropriate for some readers. This story is voluntarily rated PG for parental guidance.
~Donatello was strolling along West 42nd Street. He knew where he was; the New York Public Library Annex was right near here. He took a right onto Tenth Avenue and paused. But instead of turning left and going towards the annex, he kept going straight. He realized that the annex wasn’t important and he should keep going. He was calm and did what occurred to him without really weighing his options. He was like a machine, acting on the orders of some distant programmer.
But that wasn’t important either.
He took the next left onto West 45th. P.S. 51 was on his left and he stopped to look it over before continuing on down the block and making a left onto Eleventh Avenue. He circled back onto West 44th, completing his circuit around the block, and stopping behind the school. He twined his fingers in the fence as he quietly watched the kids playing. He checked his watch. 12:01.
He suddenly noticed a man to his right. The man was also watching the children through the fence. He turned his head slightly toward Don and smiled. The man wore a black trenchcoat and hat, a green scarf, and a laptop carrying case. Donatello had no real recollection of meeting this man before, but looking at him, he felt a vague familiarity. He felt comfortable with this situation, and nodded back to the man, letting his gaze pass over dark hair and eyes, an complexion halfway between fair and dark, and an odd quirk to his smile...A twitch at the corner of the mouth which was odd-looking enough, but didn’t really disturb Don.
The man slowly backed away from the fence and walked behind Don, who turned to watch. A black Lexus was parked in the street. Don watched the man reach into his pocket for a piece of metal, then jigger the trunk lock open. He slid a slim black box out of the laptop case and carefully positioned it in the trunk. He zipped up the laptop case, slammed the trunk, and with one tilted smile at Donatello, walked back up West 44th. He turned the corner onto Tenth Avenue and disappeared from Don’s view.
Don turned his back on the fence and walked rapidly east. At the intersection with Tenth, he turned and looked back at the school. Methodically checked his watch. 12:07:01. 02; 03; 04; 05; 06; 07-
The Lexus was no longer there. In its place was a twisted hunk of metal spraying flame and shrapnel into the street on one side, and the playground on the other. Don could hear the roaring of the flames; he watched the smoke being blown skyward. He could hear the faint screams of those who were dying just down the block from him. Panicked people flooded the streets, leaving their homes and cars to run to the scene of the explosion; a scene caused by a man all in black.
A lone man in a trenchcoat wasn’t a strange sight in New York, where tourists were busy and residents tended to mind their own business. He opened the trunk so fast that no one gave him a second glance to see if he was really using a key. Not that somebody breaking into a car was the affair of the passing citizenry anyway. He was just a guy, putting some stuff in his trunk before he headed out to lunch, or whatever business he had to take care of at midday. Nothing to worry about.
And Don found, as he turned his back on the scene of chaos, that he was the least concerned of all of them.~