Trapped 13?

a plan in motion

"Uhm, I don't really know how to explain this but I need your help with something", I explain to Francis who is seated on my couch in front of me. My door is closed so no one can listen and Francis looks slightly distraught.

"You haven't killed anyone and are asking me to make the body vanish, are you?", he jokes and I shake my head.

I clear my throat and adjust my jacket before continuing: "No I uh- I want you to check out a warehouse for me. I am being monitored every second of the day despite my ankle monitor so I need someone to do this for me. And you're the only one that comes to my mind right now."

"This is not something illegal, right?", he reassures himself and I shake my head.

"So what is this for?"

"A new operation base. For us."

"Wha- excuse me what?", he asks confused.

"I cannot work from here anymore. My parents and anyone else can walk in here and look at everything. Despite, I can't bring any more weapons into the house. Not the amount of artillery we will need. I need a hidden operation base which will allow me to fully expand my research and store everything I need in combination with training and shooting grounds."

Francis's eyes widen and he exhales loudly. "That's one hell of a plan you got there kid. How do you want to find a warehouse? And how do you want to pay for it?"

"My father's business consist of many little companies. One of them has a warehouse which is not used half an hour away from here in the west. We will use that. If you're in, I need you to promise me not to tell anyone!"

"O-okay", he answers hesitantly and furrows his eyebrows, "but how will you go there with your ankle monitor?"

I exhale slowly. That is another obstacle. I can hack into it but I have got to be really careful. If they notice I will be imprisoned and most likely tortured for a long time. I probably won't even get out anymore. Just like what they did to me.

"This is the address", I give him a piece of paper, " please drive there, take pictures and tell me if it's usable."

He nods and gets up but before he walks out I stop him and say something very foreign: "Oh and Francis, thank you!"

He slightly smiles at me and salutes before heading out. I hope this works out.

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"Your grandfather is coming over tonight and we are having caesar salad with chicken and some steak, are you okay with that?", my father asks and I nod.

I liked my father's dad, pops, a lot. He understands my quietness and respects it. He always knows what to say and when to act with gestures which makes him really likeable for me.

I walk over to our living room where I put my bag down. I am about to walk upstairs when my father stops me.

"You can work down here if you like", he suggests and I hesitantly agree. I spread out all my school work and start writing essays and answering questions.

After an hour the doorbell rings and I slowly pack up my stuff when pops walks in.

"If this isn't my favorite granddaughter!", he walks in and tilts his little hat at me. I salute and put my backpack on the stairs before joining the rest in the dining room.

"Wow this looks delicious!", my grandfather looks at the food like a child on Christmas and I nearly laugh out. I haven't felt much joy lately but this man does not seem to disappoint for a second.