Chapter 169: Collision

Andrew had his feet up on his desk, his chair reclined as his focus was directed on the projected image on the wall opposite him.

There was a walkie-talkie on the desk. There were occasional voices coming from it. They updated him on their position and situation.

“Target located sir. Should we proceed?” a voice came through.

Andrew didn't wait a beat before he said. “Proceed without hesitation. Full throttle.”

“Confirmed.” the voice said.

“Target confirmed. Commersing now.” the man on the other end said.

“…Call you back,” he muttered into the receiver. He watches from the project as the black car swerves into the correct lane.

He narrowed his eyes. Desmond’s driving was a hit or miss today.

Almost… cautious.

Desmond was never a cautious driver. He drove as if the road belonged to him and everyone should stay clear but this time, it was as if he knew what was coming.

Andrew smirked.

“As if,” he muttered under his breath. On the screen, the truck was in frame now. Everything had been set carefully. Timed. Calculated. There was no room for error. The truck had been arranged, the route confirmed, and the driver instructed. In just a matter of four minutes, an accident that would shock the nation would happen.

Andrew could already envision all that would happen after Desmond was gone. Not only would he take over the company. He would also warn his way into Kalyssa’s heart, acting as a “friend” she could confide in.

Everything would be perfect.

Andrew closed his eyes and sighed, a smile on his lips as he leaned back with his hands behind his head.

Just then, the door burst open.

“Boss!”

Paul screamed. He stumbled in, breathing hard, sweat glueing his black hair to his forehead. He looked like he had run all the way there without stopping.

Andrew asked, his eyes still closed. “What is it?”

Paul didn’t even try to compose himself.

“We have a problem,” he said, his voice uneven.

Andrew paused. Then he slowly sat up. He clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Speak.”

Paul swallowed and then he brought out his tablet and placed it on Andrew’s desk. “One of our men just reported. Desmond was seen leaving Kalyssa’s estate.”

Andrew blinked. ‘So what?’ he looked from the picture on the tablet to the projected image.

“So what if he was leaving her apartment. It's going to be the last day he does that,” he said flatly. “We already know he—”

“Look closely, boss. He's in her car,” Paul added quickly, pointing at the table.

Silence.

Nobody moved. No one made a sound. The men on the other end of the walkie-talkie stopped.

Andrew’s mind froze for half a second. It took a second before everything clicked.

“…What?”

His eyes widened slightly. He threw his legs off the table and snatched the table. Desmond was indeed in Kalyssa’s car. He had wound down to hand a card over to the estate security and that was how the image was taken.

“This can't be happening. Did they switch cars halfway?” he asked Paul.

Paul hesitated, then shook his head. “He was driving her car when he left.”

Andrew’s gaze dropped slowly to his phone again.

O many things ran through his mind. After all his preparation he failed to catch the mouse in his trap. Desmond, once again, was able to slither his way out of trouble.

But how did he know? How was he able to still be two steps ahead of him?

Another thought slipped into his mind.

“Then if that wasn’t Desmond,” he said, his voice low, almost to himself.

“Klaus was sighted leaving the office to get coffee. He had arrived an hour earlier.” Paul interjected.

Andrew blinked twice.

“Then if Desmond left Kalyssa’s estate in her car. Then she would have….” Andrew trailed off.

Paul didn’t respond. Because he already knew.

Blood drained from Andrew's face. He looked up sharply, panic flashing across his face for the first time.

“She left in Desmond’s car! Fuck!” he shouted.

Fuck! How could he have missed it? Why didn't he notice that the driver wasn't Desmond? Why didn't he pick up the clue that was right in front of him?

Desmond had skilled drivers, but they didn't drive carefully.

Andre turned towards the projector. In just a minute the truck would collide with Desmond's car.

Something snapped in Andrew.

He dived for the walkie-talkie.

“Stop it. Call them—tell them to stop the truck!” he shouted. He didn't receive any response from the walkie-talkie. He pressed so many times but it didn't come to life.

Andrew turned and threw it against the wall. It shattered into a million pieces.

“Fucking call them,” he yelled at Paul. His face was red in anger and anxiety.

Paul scrambled for his phone, hands shaking as he tried to dial.

“It’s not going through,” he said quickly. “They’re not picking up—”

“Try again!”Andrew yelled.

“I am!”

Andrew ran a hand through his hair, his breathing uneven now.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. This wasn’t the plan.

He didn’t care about Desmond in that moment. His eyes turned to the projector. One minute, the car would collide.

“Boss…” Paul’s voice dropped.

Andrew looked at him. His eyes were wide and erratic now.

“What!?”

The look on Paul’s face said everything before he even spoke.

“…the truck was already tampered with, even if they wanted to stop… they can’t,” he said quietly.

Andrew stood there. For a second he didn't speak,. He just stood there staring at nothing. He shook his head slowly.

“No,” he whispered. Paul looked down. He had nothing to say.

“No! No!! No!! Nooooooo!” at the last one, he slammed his fist against the desk.

Hard.

“Damn it!”

He turned to the projector, just in time to see the truck ram into the black car.

“Nooooo…” Andrew screamed until he choked. Tears ran down his face.

“No stop it. This can't be happening.” he fell to his knees and held his hair in his hand. Paul watched his boss break down in front of him.

They had calculated mapping out all possibilities. None of them was able to foresee this.

The accident made the news within minutes. And just like Andrew had expected, it made national headlines.

A ghastly collision on the highway. It was severe, multiple vehicles. One was completely crushed beyond recognition.

The footage was chaotic. Police were everywhere. Their sirens blasting, flashing lights, and smoke.

The reporter’s voice was grim as she spoke.

“No survivors are expected—”