7. 01 A.M.
THE MALIBU ENCLAVE
Fresh morning breeze gusted into the Victorian styled living room.
The General sat on a couch, sniffing powdered cocaine from a small elaborately carved glass tray. He relished in the effect it had on him.
An electronic wheelchair is on standby beside the couch and an Apple Macbook laptop is open on the table. He stretched his hand and typed in a few commands and a window popped up. It showed a live coverage of the operational base which is 40 feet below. It shows his workers as they conceal drugs in chicken and beef and stock them in refrigerators, some workers can be seen packaging frozen chicken in boxes while bodyguards dressed in military fatigues are supervising them. He tapped his AirPods.
“Marvin, the contacts?” he asked in a deep baritone. He was not a man of many words.
“Yes, sir. They were successful.” Marvin said from the other end.
“Has the Messenger made any demands?”
“Then send in half the remaining payment.”
“No problem boss, I’ve confirmed their locations and have begun the implantation. The explosives are equipped with long range Wi-Fi radios. These would ensure proper communication between the bombs and the fiber optics technology, and you can now easily control the detonations from your computer.”
The General watched his right-hand man Marvin on the cam-coder as he conducted the affairs below while still on the call.
“And the auto-timer?” the boss asked, taking a swipe from a thirty-year old scotch bottle.
“It’s been set for midnight today and we’ve already begun…”
“You know how much I dislike small talk, Marvin. I need complete control of those explosions from my device…now!” he threatened calmly. He didn’t wait for the poor man to reply before terminating the call and went back to his business.