In silence Stoner completed loading his cart, watching out of the corner of his eye as an increasing number of Federal employees used his van as cover in their effort to slip out a bit early. It was no accident that Dale had selected this particular hour and weekday to make this “special” delivery. He had been here during this time of day before and noted how everyone, from the most senior judge in the building to the lowliest clerk in the mailroom, was in a hurry to finish up his work and leave. Stoner not only expected this outbound traffic, he was counting on it.

Carefully he eased the heavily burdened cart down the aluminum ramp. From here on in it was all a matter of luck and following through. After closing and locking the door of his truck, as he did every time he left it unattended in a public area, Dale pushed his cart up to the double doors of the Federal building.

“Someone doesn’t like you,” the security guard at the entrance called out by way of a greeting.

Stoner struggled with his load, forced a smile and nodded. “Oh, I don’t mind,” he replied. “This is my last delivery.”

The security guard returned Stoner’s smile as he looked over the cart full of copier paper. “Know what ya mean,” he responded with a halfhearted sigh. Nothing showed on the scanner as Stoner passed through the security checkpoint with his cart. Nor did any expression of concern, fear, or anticipation betray a man who had, by now, put aside any doubts. Used to seeing Dale Stoner deliver tons of copier paper to the Federal building week after week, the guard didn’t bother to check the invoice or make any effort to poke through the boxes that seemed to be precariously close to toppling off Stoner’s cart. Having done as much of his duty as he felt necessary, the guard went back to keeping one eye on the small portable TV he kept in his enclosed booth and let Dale make his way to the basement where the central supply room was.

Any second thoughts that were trying to worm their way into Stoner’s consciousness disappeared when the doors of the elevator opened. With a grunt he gave his heavy cart a jerk to get it moving and maneuvered it into the elevator. After pressing the button for the basement, Stoner closed his eyes and started to take deep, slow breaths. He didn’t open his eyes until the elevator stopped. As if synchronized, his eyes opened as the doors of the elevator separated. With a heave, he shoved his cart out into the hall and began to make his way down the long, dimly lit basement corridor.

The idea for his plan had come to him not long after making a delivery, much like this one, late one afternoon months before. Alone, and in a hurry to be finished with his paperwork, the manager of the supply room had pleaded with Dale to have a heart and wheel his cart into the main storage area. “Drop the stuff off wherever you can find a spot,” the frazzled Federal employee had explained to Stoner. “I’ll sort it out on Monday. I just want to clear my desk and get out of here before the traffic gets too bad.”