The Bomber had told them he'd been sent to fix the basement lights, and that he needed access to that area. The maintenance crew had handed the key over without question.
No one suspects the friendly neighborhood electrician.
He chuckled to himself. No one suspected that he was the Bomber. No one had the faintest idea that the young, clean-cut guy in the overalls was smuggling in explosives, and planning to use them.
He looked around, making sure that there was nobody about. He felt his heart pound, and a shudder of excitement went through him.
This was the day he had been preparing for. The day he had been waiting for.
He pulled the key out of his pocket, and turned it in the lock. He pulled the door open, and stepped through it.
Inside the large basement, it was dimly lit. The lights gleamed over all the shiny cars parked inside, many of them belonging to wealthy and influential people.
The destruction would not be confined to one car alone, and he felt a thrill of satisfaction to know that others she'd associated with would also suffer losses, and might even be injured and killed alongside her. It would send a message. It would show them. It would punish them as they deserved.
He felt the bag that he'd placed on the ground, and was reassured by the weight of the bombs inside as he picked it carefully up.
The bomber strolled forward, his backpack on his back, laughing softly to himself. It was exhilarating, intoxicating, and he felt his skin tingle with the excitement.
As he glided through the rows of cars, he felt his heart racing. He stopped in front of the BMW she drove, and grinned.
Hello, sweetheart. Soon, you'll be in a world of pain. But not for long, he admitted to himself. Only for a moment. And then, you will be no more. Exterminated, like a rat, in the powerful blast.
It was what she had earned, for the suffering and misery that she had caused to the Bomber and his father.
It was only right that she should die.
And he wasn't even going to set the bombs so that they were detonated by family members, not this time. For this occasion, he was going to do the bombs on a timer. It would be easy because this woman was clockwork in her habits. He knew to the second when she would leave her office, and arrive at her car. The video camera was set up and waiting near her car, ready to roll. It would capture and transmit whatever footage he couldn’t personally watch.
"I’m looking forward to seeing you soon," he whispered to himself, smiling tightly as he prepared for the concentrated effort and planning the next few minutes would take.