Murder Encrypted

Julie Bergeron peeked over the partition of the assigned cubicle. Her weak knees barely supported her. He was still there, just like he had been for the last thirty minutes. The man with a crew cut stood six feet tall, not an ounce of fat on his muscular body. He looked like a Marine, though the computer programmer figured he wasn't there to save the day—especially hers. The man blocked the path to the elevators.

Julie was small. Some would describe her as petite. The talented young lady won battles with her mind, not her limited physical capabilities. It was time to instigate the backup plan she had developed over a long stretch of time. But as she peeked at the sturdy man, panic set in. Her eyes failed to focus on objects. The geek had trouble picking up the small package. Thank goodness the other one was already in place. Julie could not have managed to arrange for its placement under such scrutiny.

Bending, the petite lady eased into the adjoining cubicle, carefully remaining below the partitions separating the open offices. The programmer placed the small package in her coworker's outbox before sneaking back into her own space.

Julie stood, ensuring the man guarding the exit could see her. With him staring, she walked around the partitions to the hallway instead of toward the elevators she took every day. The stairs were located at the other end of the partitions. She saw the surprised man start toward her. Julie picked up the pace, but the man closed the distance between them.

No more games! Julie ran to the stairwell, pushing open the door. She descended as fast as her short legs could carry her, two steps at a time. The programmer heard pounding feet behind her. She judged her pursuer to be one story behind her. Julie pressed forward; thankful she had maintained a rigorous fitness schedule.

On the ground floor, Julie burst into the lobby. Another man, cut of the same cloth as the first, walked at a rapid pace toward her, his eyes fixed. The programmer turned and sprinted for the fire exit. It wasn't in her character to create a commotion, but she knew her very existence depended on getting away from these men.

When Julie pushed open the fire door, alarms sounded. Loud alarms. They didn't stop the programmer. Instead, she sprinted toward the parking garage adjoining the office building. Panting, she arrived and looked back. Neither man came into view.

Unable to control her fear, Julie stumbled up to the third floor. Easing the door open, the petite lady looked out to see if anyone was lying in wait. Right. Left. Straight ahead. Nary a soul. She sprinted to the blue Ford Mustang. Hitting the button on her fob, the programmer didn't have to fool with a key. As soon as her hand touched the door handle, she sensed something wrong. Someone was behind her.

Julie didn't have time to turn. The sharp blade sliced through her tender neck like hot butter. She tried to scream, but only a gurgle emerged. The programmer felt hot liquid streaming down her slim body. All was not lost. The package was in the mail.