Thorn fingered the four fiber-optic cameras in his pocket as he and his new partner Sean Kelley made their first round of the night. His mind was preoccupied with finding the optimal positions to place the cameras, a task made tougher by Kelley’s incessant rambling. Having a couple of years on Thorn and wearing a few scars across his face gave him a sense of self-importance that was already beginning to wear thin.
If stacked up side by side, Kelley didn’t hold a candle to the life experience Thorn had accumulated, despite the truncated time table he was working with. As it were though, he was forced into the assumed identity of Robert Myers, a man that somehow managed to do even less than Kelley.
Together they walked the length of the first two piers, checking locks and tie-downs, ticking things off their list. As they rounded a corner and turned down the third pier, Thorn kept a sharp eye out for the container he knew to be tucked away nearby. Stenciled with 081-4592 across it in foot-tall white letters, he spotted what he was looking for just off the end of the dock, in quick order determining the best vantage points for the cameras. Once chosen, he waited for Kelley to immerse himself in another story before stopping, bending at the waist and pretending to tie his shoe.
Kelley continued a few steps beyond before realizing he was alone and turning to wait for Thorn.
“You can go on ahead,” Thorn said, “I’ll catch up in a minute.”
“No worries, I’ll wait,” Kelley replied, pushing forward with his tale of women and booze, giving off the distinct impression that it wasn’t every day that he had a captive audience and he wasn’t about to let it go freely.
Cursing under his breath, Thorn finished tying his shoe, a new plan forming in his mind. Slipping his company cell phone from his pocket, he sat it out on the concrete beside him and as he stood, nudged it off to the side with the toe of his boot.
The small black square skittered off with nothing more than a slight scrape of plastic against concrete, Kelley never once glancing in its direction.
Rejoining his chattering coworker, Thorn walked the length of the pier and as they headed for the fourth, made a show of patting his pockets. “Damn it, I must have dropped my phone when I bent over to tie my shoe.”
“You want me to wait for you?” Kelley asked, a tiny bit of annoyance creeping in.
“Naw, you go on ahead. I’ll run grab it and meet you on Four.”
“All right then,” Kelley said and drifted away into the darkness, not putting up the slightest bit of resistance.
Turning on his heel, Thorn jogged back in the opposite direction, pausing to ensure Kelley was out of sight.
Every movement he made was being recorded by the cameras above, a fact that forced him to act as natural as possible. Starting on the far side of the pier, he bent beside a tie-down, pressing the camera into place, giving the impression to anybody who might be watching that he was searching for his phone.
Using the same ruse, he worked a slow circle around the entire end of the pier, selecting a security light and a nearby container both to provide wide angle shots. The last camera he placed on the lock of the container itself, hoping for a direct shot of an intruder’s face.
Once all four were in place, Thorn inched his personal cell phone out of his pocket and checked to make sure the feeds were all up and active before stowing it away. Making a show of looking from side to side, he picked his way back up the pier and retrieved the oversized work phone from the ground, wiping it clean, making sure it was seen by the camera on high.
Only then did he jog back the length of the pier and join Kelley on Four.
“Took you awhile, huh?” Kelley asked as Thorn approached.
“Couldn’t find it, must have kicked it,” Thorn lied.
Kelley clapped him on the back and laughed, a deep booming sound that erupted from his diaphragm. “Last time I did that, the damn thing ended up swimming in the harbor!”
Thorn couldn’t help but laugh in return as together they headed back to the guard station.
Chapter Twenty-Seven