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The site is unmistakable. A ten-story crane occupies most of a fenced-off construction site. Rocks crunch underneath your feet, which kick up a cloud of dust as you approach the foreman's trailer. Before you can give the door a rap, it slams open against the side of the trailer. The doorway is filled by a hulking, hardhat-wearing frame. Ducking his head, the foreman rumbles out of the trailer and down the steps.
"You the cleanup man?" his voice sounds like rocks grinding together.
"If you'll take Spoony outta the fryer, I'll do whatever," you reply.
"City's been riding my ass to finish the Dwyer building downtown in time for the parade." Landham points a large meaty paw at a sparkling new building down the street. "Had to rush that so much, there's no way the building inspector is going to let us stay in business. I need to have a little accident, and make the city suffer," Landham thoughtfully chews on the tip of the cigarette hanging from the corner of his wide mouth. "You're gonna hijack a parade float that I've filled with explosives, then reroute it straight into the new building."
You find yourself frowning so hard, the corners of your mouth are beginning to ache. "What about all the witnesses? I don't think I'm the right guy for this mission."
Landham's mouth broadens into a surprising grim. "You'd rather let Mr. Spoony die?"
Your mind flashes back to your childhood, Spoony plucking you from the run-down orphanage in the Old Country, enrolling you in a private school. Looking at the ground, you state, "I'll do it."