Meanwhile...

On the fast way, a man sat in the back of his vehicle besides two other men. They were all smoking cigars and a heavy wisp of smoke filled the speeding car as the lights of the tunnel sped past. The man and the other two sat in silence. They knew where they were going, they knew whom they were following. Nothing needed to be said at this time.

The man felt the cigar between his lips, and inhaled a current of ugly vapor. It drifted down the back of his tongue and filled in his lungs. He held it there, removing the paper cigar from his lips, waited for the pain to subside, and let the smoke burn his nostrils as it flowed out.

"I think it's going to rain," said one of the other men suddenly. Everyone's eyes met; the man had been searching the weather on his tablet in order to find something to break the silence; but he immediately turned red and regretted his decision.

The other man looked over to the first for approval, but the man merely put the cigar back into his lips and the other dropped their heads; the man with the red face dropping his head and turning off his weather app, the other looking over to him with a slightly condescending shake of his head as though to say, You idiot.

The first man was their boss. He had no energy to waste on conversation with his subordinates. He had his eyes on the GPS screen on the wall of the limo sitting directly above the cigar and scotch bar. On the map he could see the center blue arrow driving at 170 miles under the city terrain. Their target location was up ahead only a few miles, in a place called North Ranch.

North Ranch was a quiet place. Expensive mansions filled the area and no two neighbors spoke to each other on account of the homes were so large it would take a hike to get to anyone's front porch. That, or no one was normally home.

But tonight was a night that the man with the cigar had planned on the knowledge that everyone would be home. For it was a school night, and Francisco's kids would be there, so would his wife, so would his house servants. The plan was to get there, and take everyone hostage so as to have leverage against Francisco when it came time for him to sign his contract to join iConnect and never be seen again. His whole family would sign the contract and immediately be placed under in iConnect while the company's throne is passed to the next runner up--

The first man, their boss, was that next runner up. He would inherit the entire company, and then would make a deal with Andromeda to merge the two companies and build a company of the likes the universe had never seen.

That was the original plan. But now the three men were on a mission to break into Francisco's mansion—and burn the place to the ground. Without warning, they would enter, ensure none of Francisco's family could escape. The plan was to murder Francisco's four girl's, including his baby child, and his wife. The three hired hitmen knew Francisco's son had already been captured by a couple of other Andromeda contractors. Besides Francisco's family, Francisco's dog, Francisco's robot staff, and Francisco's family heirlooms would all go up in smithereens.

The three men smoked their cigars in silence though. This was not a joyous occasion. Any other way would have fared easier on their consciences, but this was the easiest way to exterminate the threat of Francisco's entry as the company's CEO.

In a closing statement in the far back rooms of the Andromeda building, late at night when no one was there to hear it, the boss man with the cigar had told a fleet of four other goons:

"This is how we get Francisco Granados out. We send his house on fire, with his entire family in it. We then force him to sign an iConnect contract, and when he goes under the virtual reality experience, I'll say Francisco handed me a letter saying the death of his family crushed his will to live. He wanted to commit suicide. And so the only way I could save his life was to call in the feds and get him under."

The four goons in the room were crooked, local police from LA whose jobs were in jeopardy thanks to the rise of humanoid replacements sold from The Company. They had a critical grudge toward the company and knew the idea man behind the current CEO Al Zander was creative director, Francisco Granados. The boss man with the cigar had promised the soon-to-be-out-of-work police each a hefty slice of dough if they help him and keep their mouths shut. They obliged, but expected the boss man to guarantee them jobs in the company once the boss man became head of The Company and coordinated with Andromeda's board to merge the two companies. It was the least he could do. They could have whatever cockamamie jobs they could make up in their heads. Professional paper pusher, standards of procedure daily vocabulary fixer-upper, you name it. They'll get as high of a salary as they like as long as they remain quiet. If they get too greedy though it won't be a problem burning down their houses with them in it as well...

When the car left the fast way skate and slowed down going up the off ramp to ground level, the car finally came to a stop and the four of them found themselves in North Ranch county, an absurdly rich wave of spread-out mansions lined in a snaking row of bike paths rolling up and down mountain peaks with a view.

Bags in hand the three of them dropped their cigars on the bike way and crept through the nighttime shadows falling off side benches and fake mailboxes. The Granados home was gated but they pulled some remote frequency disrupters to channel off the security cameras, and strategically placed some tripod devices that disrupted electric currents from passing through the front gates.

Ready to bang the gate open with a diamond-butted sledge hammer, the boss man dropped his bag on the ground beside his feet, and bent over while feeling the pain in his bag to pull the duffel bags's zipper and haul the heavy weapon up and over his shoulders. The veins engorged in his wrists and forearms, the tissue around the muscles in his biceps and shoulders felt like they were about to tear. He grunted as the sledgehammer pulled down from between his shoulders as he held onto it for dear life. He felt his goons watch him as the boss man approached the gate, heaved a deep breath and swung the diamond head of the hammer over his shoulder and down on the gate's master lock. The lock snapped and dropped to their feet. The gate convulsed and the boss man dropped his hammer out of fatigue—jumping so the hammer would miss his toes on the way down.

The boss man dropped his hands over his knees and lowered his head to catch his breath for a moment. He closed his eyes, and listened for the sounds of guard dogs. He waited, and when he heard a bark, then the sound of racing paws, the boss man raised his head and looked through the bars of the gates to the rolling sea of black grass under the night sky. Two shadows appeared over the rolling hill of grass that blocked the way between the front gates and the mansion house where Francisco's family would be sleeping. The hounds stood erect, both of them; heads up, teeth gritted, the dogs were at attention and preparing to charge at the three intruders once they dared open and enter the now unlocked gates.

"There they are," whispered the boss man. "You two know what to do."

The two goons each gulped a roll of thickening saliva down their esophagi and bent their backs to pull from each one's own bag an M48 Liberty. Guns were still legal without real training in the United States thanks to the NRA, and never had they thought they'd still be able to buy arms online without a permit in this day and age. Lobbying does wonders for any evil campaign.

Both guns were preloaded. All the goons had to do was switch off the safety, aim and shoot. The night was silent, and the moon appeared behind those two damn dogs as the clouds passed over them. The moon made them glow, and when it happened that the cratered gray navel of the moon bore its tiny hole over the hill with an unusual brightness that spotlighted the three men so the dogs could surely see their intent, the trained dogs barked and ran for escape, when suddenly the boss man shot his fury to the men with a whisper:

"Shoot the damn pups before they get away!"

The two shook in their boots and their weapons fired off--

One dog barked and the sound of firearms followed up the hill like a black ocean wave. It was difficult to tell if they'd hit their marks, but their was no time to waste--

The boss man kicked the diamond hammer out of the way, causing his toes to throb wildly, so as to have room to pull the heavy gate outward just enough for the them to enter single file. "Get 'em now dammit! Kill 'em before they wake up the whole house!"

A single dog barked somewhere behind the hill, and the glowing black and gray clouds cealed again over the moon. In the dark the three ran with duffel bags over their shoulders and firearms in their hands. The bossman managed to pull his own M48 from his bag while running and clicked off the safety to prepare for aim. The three trudged up the hill, which turned out to be muddy as all hell and the three slowed in their attempts to avoid losing their boots.

Running ahead, the boss man halted when a lump in the grass surfaced, and he discovered the bleeding body of one of the guard dogs. He lay whimpering in the mud. While it was convention to kill a wounded animal for mercy's sake, shooting the dog would make unnecessary sound, thought the boss man. He simply went around the dog and commanded the two goonish cops to follow him quickly. The three passed the suffering animal by, and as the came over the hump of the hill, the moon came out again from behind the clouds, and the enormous mansion appeared before them across a huge expanse of grass, patio areas and entrance, centerpiece fountain. They heard the last dog standing bark in the similar direction and their eyes caught the four-legged creature race toward the entrance to warn the Granados family.

But the grounds were dead silent thanks to the interrupted alarm system, and the boss man told the other two men to head down to the house to find if anyone was still awake before getting the fire going. The boss man would take care of the dog.

Steady, the boss man thought to himself as he raised the scope to his eye, and followed his target down the hill. Don't bark lest you be shot, you damn dog.

The two goons lumbered down the hill ahead, trying to keep from slipping through the mud while their duffel bags kept swinging into their spines.

The moon seemed to get brighter and brighter at that very second the boss man screwed his eyes down on the dog. The dog, an original black dot in the darkness suddenly lit up into a hot white ball of four-legged fur. It passed the fountain and was two seconds from reaching the front entrance doggy door when the boss man held his breath, tightened his grip--

And pulled the trigger.