Rising above Manhattan and overlooking the United Nations, Tower Industries was one of the tallest buildings in New York, standing at over 1100 feet: 77 floors. She stood outside its doors admiring the Art-Deco architecture. The building was built with Indiana limestone and granite, trimmed with aluminum and chrome-nickel steel from the base of the foundation to the top of the 77th floor.
Her heart was pounding as she tried in vain to control herself. She looked down at her hands and couldn’t control the shaking. She stood in front of the large glass doors, contemplating her next move. Why was she doing this? Was he worth throwing her life away for? Could she pull this off? Those questions consumed her thoughts as she dropped her briefcase and watched it open on impact with the wet concrete of the sidewalk. She spotted the glistening steel of the revolver reflecting the moonlight for everyone to see. Frantic, she scooped up the revolver and briefcase and threw the gun inside. She was careful to wipe away the prints left on the weapon. She was perspiring profusely. Doubts flooded her mind as she turned to leave the premises. The clouds were coming in, and she could feel the light pitter-patter of raindrops fall on her face as she looked up at the ominous clouds above.
Tears filled her eyes as she remembered the promises this man had broken. She had to do it. There had been so many hours planning for this moment, and she would not be cheated out of her victory simply because of some frayed nerves. She quickly looked up and down the street and confirmed that no one had seen her. It was 11 p.m. and she figured she was blanketed by the darkness of the night.
She composed herself and began rehearsing her plan. She had memorized the security guard’s schedule by heart. He would be in the break room eating doughnuts and watching cable for another 20 minutes. The timing would have to be perfect. The cleaning crew would have finished their cleaning by now. She knew the building would be virtually empty.
She slid her access key against the card reader and could hear the heavy doors unlock. Slowly and deliberately she made her way across the spacious lobby, her heels loud against the imported marble floor. As she approached the elevator she observed the security camera pointing in her direction. She entered the lavish elevator and pressed number seventy-seven. She quickly glanced down at her watch. "Seventeen minutes," she said to herself. Placing her briefcase on the floor, she took out a pair of gloves and slipped them on as the elevator raced upward toward the executive floor. She reached into her overcoat and clasped the cold hard steel of the .357 caliber revolver in her hand. The elevator bell went off as it reached the floor. She took two steps out and took in the sight before her. She noticed the oversized floor-to-ceiling windows that offered expansive panoramic views of New York's East River and its dramatic skyline in all directions.
She walked briskly past the hand-carved statues in the halls as well as the oak paneled walls, which still gave off the scent of newly cut wood. She was almost there. As she approached the office she could see the light shining from under the door.
"As usual, hard at work saving the world with yet more ideas of cheaper importation, or how to cut cost and still make the export deliverables," she mused. As she stood facing the door, she could read the monogram, Michael K. Honeker, President, CEO She glanced down at her watch: fifteen minutes. "Plenty of time," she thought as she stood outside his office and nervously checked up and down the hall. She knew no one was around, yet she was overwhelmed with anxiety. She took out a small pillow from her briefcase to quiet the gunshot.