“This is over now, right?”
“What do you mean?” Jason asks.
“This whole business with the bombs,” Gregor says. “I gotta tell you, it doesn’t make me feel good. It frankly makes me feel sick. I didn’t think you could build a bomb and then you built one. I’m impressed, okay? But I just want this to be over now. I want the whole thing to just come to an end right here.”
Jason scratches the scrounge on his face with his fingernails.
“Can you just please tell me that you’re done with this as a hobby?” Gregor says.
Jason lifts up his glasses and rubs his pointer and middle fingers around on the surface of his closed eye.
“Cause making bombs is one of those warning-sign activities like torturing animals,” Gregor says.
“Right, right,” says Jason. “I mean, sure, I’d like to tell you that it all comes to an end right here, but there are certain difficulties that prohibit me from making such a statement at this time.”
“Jason,” says Gregor, his voice as cautious as a hostage negotiator’s. “Listen to me.”
“Part of the problem,” Jason says, “is that there’s a second bomb.”