The time had come.
The preparations had taken weeks. Apart from preparing himself, Roy had to source the equipment he needed, fund the project, take delivery of the items and yet somehow leave no trace, no telltale sign that could lead back to him.
He’d faked himself a student card and gone into the university library to use their computers or he’d find a back street internet café, the kind that transients used as they back-packed around the world, making sure he wasn’t stuck in a window, ensuring he could see everything going on but not be seen.
He had to find a place for the deed, trawling the classifieds, appearing in pubs for one pint only, eliciting the information he needed before leaving, never to return.
He had found a quiet enough place, paid for it in cash using a false name.
The place was clean, out of the way and there would be no strangers blurting through the door. Roy had made sure of that. Now the place was ready. Nothing had been left undone.
He’d gathered the people here that he wanted to witness this event. He kept them silent. They held their breath knowing not to cross him as he shut one eye and peered down the scope. The place was in darkness. Roy was calm, poised, ready to strike.
The door opened a little. Someone was coming in, nervously, trying to adjust to the gloom. The lights went on and Roy sprang into action. He pulled his explosive, pressed a button and shouted: “SURPRISE!” in unison with everyone else. His daughter’s shocked look turned to a grin, a moment Roy had captured on camera: “Happy Birthday darling” he said as he handed his daughter a glass of Champagne
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