RUN! LEAVE NOW AND DON’T LOOK BACK! That’s what the slip from her fortune cookie said. Anne sat there staring at it for a second, then raised her head and looked around the busy restaurant. She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Just tables full of office workers in their business casual clothes, absorbed in their phones, trying to distract themselves on their lunch breaks. She hadn’t noticed when the bill had been laid at her table with the individually wrapped treat on it, but something in her gut told her she should heed the cookie’s warning and go. She picked up her cell phone, threw some money on the table, and immediately walked out of the restaurant.

She didn’t run, but she was walking away quickly. She was more than two blocks away and had just rounded the corner of a sturdy brick building when she was knocked over by the force of the explosion.

The Jade Dragon was a small Chinese restaurant a little over six blocks from her office. It was owned and operated by an immigrant family who were very polite and were the only employees. It had good Lo Mein and great Crab Rangoon, but now it was a smoldering hole in the side of a building on Eastern Avenue.

Anne got up from the ground and looked back around the corner. She could see the smoke and flames billowing from the ruined façade of the building and could hear the car alarms blaring for blocks around. She started to slowly walk back to the scene of carnage when some graffiti caught her eye. Written in bright neon green paint on the back of a no parking sign were the words “YOU’RE LOOKING BACK!” with a frowny face below it. Stunned, she stared at it for a moment, then again looked around. The streets were beginning to fill will people from the surrounding offices and storefronts. As the crowd grew, she turned and started running back to her office building.

Anne was in great shape and ran everyday so she sprinted the last four blocks to her office quickly. People stared as she ran by, but she was too shook up to care. She was nearing the doors to the lobby when she saw a yellow sticky note attached to the glass. It simply said “NOT HERE!”

Anne was scared. She wasn’t just being watched, someone was anticipating her reactions. She didn’t know what to do. Once more she began frantically scanning her surroundings. She worked downtown. Her office building was on a busy street along with several other office buildings. There was too much commotion on the street and there were too many windows to hope to spot someone watching her. She could hear the sirens of the police and fire trucks responding to the explosion almost half a mile away. Suddenly, Anne realized she needed to call the police! She reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. She unlocked the screen and typed in 911. As soon as she hit the second 1 but before she could press “Send”, there was a popping sound and her phone went blank and began to smoke.

She stood there a moment staring at the smoking brick that used to be her phone. Then something shifted in Anne head. She was still scared, but now she was starting to get angry. When Anne got angry she did not blow up, or lose her temper, or scream and yell. No, when Anne got angry the outside world got quite and she became single mindedly focused.

Anne was no wilting flower, she was a strong capable woman who has never allowed herself to be pushed around and taken advantage of. When she was six and a bigger girl on the playground bullied her, she started taking martial arts lessons. When her middle school science teacher ignored her questions in class and unfairly scored all of the girl’s tests and assignments lower than the boys, she started a letter writing campaign that ended with the teacher leaving the school district. At a party in college, a boy got a little too grabby and ended the night humiliated in front of his friends with a bloody nose and a broken arm. This was a woman who could take care of herself.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and started to plan. “What is the situation”, she thought to herself. “Someone has executed a violent terrorist act. For some reason, someone has chosen to spare my life. Is it the same person or someone else with knowledge of the plot? My routine and my most likely reactions have been anticipated. I must assume I am still in mortal danger. I will, for now, also assume that the one who saved me is not my friend. So I must do something completely out of character. But what?” Before she could decide what that action might be someone spoke to her.

“Excuse me, but is your name Anne Wright?” Anne opened her eyes to see a bike messenger standing in front of her holding a clipboard. “Excuse me?” she said perplexed. “I’m looking for an Anne Wright” the messenger responded, “Is that you?” “Yes, that’s me” she said, “but who are you and how do you know who I am?” The complete incongruity of the situation had thrown her for a loop and she could not shift gears and focus on the man in front of her. “Awesome!” he said. “I’m from Two Wheels to You Couriers, and I have a package for you. Please sign here.”

Anne couldn’t resolve the two situations in her head. The anxiety of the explosion, the notes, and the threat to her life; interrupted by this twenty something goateed slacker in spandex waving a clipboard at her. She stared at him with a perplexed look on her face, as he just stood there uncomfortably. She shook her head and took another deep breath to center herself and with an edge in her voice said “I’m sorry but it’s been a strange day for me. Could you please tell me who this package is from and how you knew who I was?”

The messenger sighed and lowered the clipboard with a slight roll of his eyes. “Look, this has been pretty weird for me too ok” He said. “I don’t know who sent the package, it’s not on the form, and they never tell me what I’m delivering. Part of the service is privacy y’know. All they told me was, we got a call this morning to pick up this package and deliver it to a tall redheaded lady named Anne Wright, who would be running up to this building some time between 12:45 and 1:00. I’ve been chilling my heels out here for almost twenty minutes trying to find you. Dude said he’d pay five times the normal rate if I caught you before you entered the building.”

Anne was being anticipated again. Should she accept the package? Would it save her or harm her? She couldn’t be sure. She was trying to weigh her options when the messenger spoke again. “Hey, are you gonna sign for this or not? I’ve already missed out on like a ton of delivers waiting for you.”

This was the wrong thing to say, and the messenger regretted it immediately when Anne grabbed the front of his bike shirt and a handful of chest hair with it. As she twisted her hand and pulled the messenger close to her face she said, “Listen here you little shit! Someone is threatening me and people are already dead, so I want you to listen to me very closely and answer my next questions carefully, ok?” “Ok ok ok , just chill out ok” he winced.

Anne loosened her grip slightly and said “You say you picked this package up? It wasn’t dropped off?” “No,” he replied. “They gave me an address to pick it up at.” “Where?” Asked Anne forcefully. “It’s on my clipboard” he said. He had dropped it when Anne had grabbed him, so she let him go and picked it up. She was scanning the paperwork when she saw it. 16661 Front Street, Suite 2B, it didn’t sound familiar to her. She looked up and the messenger had backed a few feet away and was rubbing his chest. People were watching them, but giving them a lot of space as they walked around the scene. Anne felt vulnerable and exposed. “Front Street. Where is that?” She asked. “It’s down by the river, in the manufacturing district.” He replied. “Look, I’m sorry about that” Anne began. “But I’m under a bit of pressure at the moment. Can you tell me anything about this place?” “Yeah” said the messenger. “It’s an abandoned office in a rundown building. I totally thought I was being set up to get mugged. I was about to hightail it out of there when I saw the package on the front desk.”

Anne thought quickly and decided the safest option was to play along for now. “Ok”, she said. “Thank you. I’ll take the package.” She pulled the pen off the top of the clipboard, signed her name, and held it out for the messenger. He eyed her suspiciously for a moment, but then pulled the package out of his bag. He held it out for her to take and they exchanged the clipboard for the package simultaneously, like a bad drug deal. The messenger checked the signature and put the clipboard back in his bag. “You’re crazy lady” he said as he began to walk away. Anne was about to cuss him out when she had a thought. “Hey, I may be crazy,” she said. “Maybe you should call the cops.” The messenger was shaking his head as he climbed on his bike that was parked a few yards away and pedaled off.