Dead Man Gaming

by A. J. Markam

  “No, but I can put in a good word for you. Agent Dobbs will take my suggestion into consideration.”

  “The old asshole who put me here in the first place?”

  “I wouldn’t call him that.”

  “Yeah, you wouldn’t because he’s your boss – and he didn’t entrap and blackmail you.”

  “Regardless, I need you to do everything in your power to bring the Russians down.”

  “Of course you do,” I grumbled.

  “So I’m going to need your plan as soon as possible.”

  “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

  “Alright. I should probably get back to work.”

  “Fine,” I said, and turned away.

  “Be careful.”

  I turned around. “Why? What you care?” I asked coldly.

  She kept all the emotion out of her face, but I could still hear a trace of regret in her voice. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

  “A little late for that,” I said, then walked away.

  I was furious. Arkova was putting the screws to me just because she could. After all, it wasn’t her ass on the line. It wasn’t her life. If things went south, she might not get a bonus at the end of the year. Boo effin’ hoo.

  It was an impossible order, impossible timeframe – impossible everything.

  If I could have walked away right then and there, I would have.

  I probably got about 50 feet before somebody gently slugged my shoulder and startled me.

  I looked over to see Jennifer.

  “Hanging out with your ex again?” she asked in a teasing voice.

  I stared at her in shock. “You were following me?!”

  She frowned the tiniest bit at my tone, like she couldn’t understand why I was so upset. “I was shopping for new staffs, just to see what they had, and I saw you pass by.”

  “So you were following me,” I accused her.

  “All right, yeah, I guess I followed you a hundred feet or so. Sorry – next time I’ll come over and introduce myself to your ex,” she said, irritated.

  That actually sent a chill down my spine.

  “No!” I said, panicked. “No, don’t do that.”

  “What’s your problem?”

  “I just don’t like people trailing me. What, I’m not allowed to dislike people spying on me?”

  Now she was pissed. “I wasn’t spying.”

  “Then why did you follow me?”

  “Oh, I don’t know – because we’ve been questing together, and I thought we were friends? Something weird is going on with you – are you going to tell me what it is?”

  The news about the Russians, the Shadow Bank, and the limited timeframe I had to pull everything off had rattled me. Not to mention dealing with Arkova was always a pain in the ass.

  I’m not proud to say it, but I lost my temper.

  “What I do on my own time is none of your concern. We play the game together, and that’s it. I don’t want you messing around in my personal life. Got it?”

  She looked stunned – and hurt, too. Then she clamped down on her feelings and just turned angry.

  “Got it,” she said coldly, before walking off without saying another word.

  I stood there in the crowd, immediately regretting what I’d just done.

  “Jen – ” I started.

  But she was already gone.

  34

  I joined back up with the group at the pub. Jen was already there. Unfortunately, things were really awkward between us, and the others picked up on it.

  Richard was the first to notice. Jen and I sat on opposite ends of the table, and Richard kept looking between us like he was watching a tennis game.

  Nobody else had noticed yet, though.

  “What are we gonna do next?” Slothfart asked as he pounded back another beer.

  “Preferably something with naked female elves,” Russell grinned.

  When Jen didn’t react – she was too busy avoiding looking me in the eyes – Russell said, “I thought for sure that was gonna get a rise out of her.”

  “Yo, Jen – did you eat a special brownie or something?” Slothfart asked. “Is that why you’re spacing out?”

  “What?” she asked as she came back to the present. “No, I’m fine.”

  The guys all looked at each other warily.

  “What’s going on?” Slothfart asked.

  “I think Mum and Dad have been fighting,” Richard said.

  “Mom and Dad?!” I said. “I’m the ‘New Guy,’ not ‘Dad’!”

  “And I am definitely not ‘Mum,’” Jen said in disgust.

  “Yeah, why aren’t I Dad?” Slothfart asked Richard.

  “Because you and Russell are more like horny teenagers,” Richard said.

  As though to prove his point, the goblin started thrusting his hips and dry-humping the air while saying, “Who’s yer daddy? Who’s yer daddy?”

  Slothfart made a face like, Okay, you got me there, then turned back to Richard. “Why aren’t you Dad, then?”

  “Mmm… no, I’m more like the intellectual older brother just home from university.”

  Jen suddenly stood up from the table.

  “Where are you going?” Slothfart asked, confused. “We’ve gotta decide what we wanna do about the next quest.”

  “I don’t care. Figure it out on your own and tell me later.”

  “Well, is there anything you don’t want to do?”

  “Yeah – nothing that interferes with Jimmy’s personal life,” she sneered, then turned around and walked out of the bar.

  “Jesus, dude, what did you do?” the orc asked.

  I sighed unhappily. I really didn’t want to involve the rest the group, but I couldn’t take a chance that her reaction might spread to everybody else.

  So I kept on lying.

  “I’ve met my ex-girlfriend a couple times in the game, and Jen doesn’t like it.”

  “Ohhhhhhhh,” Slothfart said.

  “Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy,” Russell scolded me with a grin. “When you’re trying to bag a new bird, you don’t go chasin’ after the one you already let go!”

  Richard raised one eyebrow. “You have an ex-girlfriend in the game?”

  “Yes.”

  “But… you’ve only been playing five days.”

  Not this again.

  I recited my cover story hastily. “She played the game, I found out about it from her, we broke up, I started playing.”

  “To get your ex back?” Slothfart asked.

  “What?! No – no, because the game reminded me of my dad, remember?”

  “I think somebody’s lying to himself,” Russell announced to the table in a sing-song voice.

  “I’m not lying,” I snapped.

  “Dude, chill,” Slothfart said. “All we’re saying is – ”

  He stopped and looked at the others like, Should I say this?

  “Well? What are you saying?” I asked angrily.

  “Jen likes you, dude.”

  I don’t think I had a heartbeat because my character is dead – but if I did, it would’ve skipped a beat. “What?! But – she didn’t even want me in the group to begin with!”

  “Pffft,” Slothfart said as he flapped his hand dismissively. “She was just looking for the best possible player for the group.”

  “And you weren’t it. Though don’t feel bad,” Richard said, patting me consolingly on the shoulder. “You’re coming along quite nicely.”

  “Yeah, mate – she’s taken a real shine to you since,” Russell grinned.

  “Yeah, Jen doesn’t get friendly with a lot of people until she’s known them for a long time,” Slothfart said. “She really likes you.”

  “You mean… she like likes me?” I asked hopefully.

  “What are we, in seventh grade?” Slothfart scoffed. “Yeah, I think, given enough time, she’d want to jump your bones.”

  “Perhaps we could put a little more delicately than that,” R
ichard suggested.

  “She wants to play ‘Hide the Sausage!’” Russell hooted.

  “That wasn’t ‘more delicately,’” Richard said.

  “Dude, we’re just cutting to the chase,” Slothfart said to Richard. “We’re givin’ him the end-game scenario, if you know what I’m sayin’.”

  I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter – it could never work out in real life. Not unless she lives in Los Angeles.”

  “Dude, we’re all in the Bay Area. Not that far away.”

  “Six hours is a long way to drive just to go on a date.”

  “So take the Hyper Loop.”

  I looked up. “The what?”

  They all stared at me. “The superfast train from LA to San Francisco? Elon Musk’s idea? Takes only 45 minutes and it’s super-cheap? What, have you been under a rock for the last six years?”

  If they only knew.

  I sat there thinking about it. I mean, I knew it was crazy, but…

  “This is probably a really shallow question,” I said, “but… is she… you know?”

  “Hot?” Slothfart smirked, with an expression like Yeah, I know what you’re after, buddy. “Yeah. Jen’s a hottie.”

  “A real looker,” the goblin said with a wink.

  “She’s a lovely woman,” Richard said.

  Slothfart scowled. “That just makes her sound like she has a great personality!”

  “But… she does have a great personality,” Richard said, confused.

  “Yeah, but – that’s what a fat chick’s friends say when they’re trying to set you up on a blind date with her. ‘Oh, she’s got a great personality.’”

  “Or when she’s so ugly you gotta put a bag over her head an’ do it for Queen and Country!” Russell hooted. Then he admitted, “I’ve done that many a time.”

  “Jen’s hot.” Slothfart looked at me and nodded like Oh yeah. “And she’s cool.”

  “Hot and cool?” Richard said mockingly.

  “Shut up – you know what I’m saying.”

  “I suppose our advice to you is, if you want to make this happen – ditch the ex-girlfriend,” Richard suggested.

  Crap.

  I’d been in prison for six years. Even before I went in, most of the women I messed around with weren’t exactly the greatest people. Some were just plain crazy. Then there were the ones who did illegal stuff like me – check fraud, identity theft, con jobs…

  I know I’m a criminal, so it’s not like I’m being judgmental. All I’m saying is, Jen was the first normal girl I’d met in years. I thought she was awesome.

  And now I was screwing it up.

  Unfortunately, there wasn’t a way I could not screw it up. I had to meet with Arkova. There was no way around it.

  I sighed and put my head in my hands. “I can’t.”

  “Can’t what?” Slothfart asked.

  “Get involved with Jen.”

  “Okaaaay… is there a reason why?”

  “It’s complicated. But basically, I can’t stop seeing the ex-girlfriend.”

  “Why, is she that good in the sack?”

  “I’m not even sleeping with her!” I said, horrified.

  Thinking of Arkova wasn’t sexy. Her personality and FBI asshole routine definitely got in the way of any fantasies.

  “So what’s the problem? Just stop seeing her. It’s that easy.”

  “What, is she a stalker?”

  “No – ”

  “Is she your baby momma?” Russell asked facetiously.

  I hadn’t thought of that – but it was a great excuse.

  “…yes.”

  The whole table reacted in shock.

  “Ohhhhhh,” Slothfart said, and his whole expression changed. “You have a kid with her, huh?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, I guess you’re right – can’t really bail on that. Why are you hanging out with her in the game, though, and not in real life?”

  Good question.

  “Um…”

  Slothfart made his hands into two arguing, angry puppets. “Because it gets too rarr rarr in real life?”

  “Yes! Yes, exactly.”

  “And this is like a DMZ.”

  “A what?”

  “A demilitarized zone,” Richard translated. “A neutral area.”

  “YES.”

  “Maybe you should tell Jen that,” Richard prodded gently.

  Um…

  Slothfart nodded in approval. “Jen’ll understand about the kid. You should definitely tell her.”

  Great.

  Now I was getting ready to lie to her even more.

  “…I don’t know…”

  “Give it a shot, man. ‘Sides, even if she doesn’t want to jump your bones, you gotta do something about this weirdness in the air. It’s harshin’ my buzz.”

  “It will be untenable to continue questing in an environment as fraught with tension as it is right now,” Richard said.

  “Yeah, Jimmy,” Russell grinned. “Man up. Do the right thing.”

  “In fact, you should go do it now,” Slothfart said.

  Wonderful.

  “I think I need a shot first,” I said.

  “That’s the spirit!” Slothfart said, then roared, “Bartender – get this man a shot!”

  Then he added as he pointed at Richard, “And charge it to him.”

  35

  It actually took about four shots to finally work up my courage.

  As I tipsily left the bar, I brought up the chat window, selected ‘Jevari’ – her character name in the game – and typed, Can we talk?

  A few seconds later the message appeared, Go ahead. I’m not stopping you.

  I mean in person, I typed.

  There was a long pause during which I held my breath.

  Finally I got the reply, I’m wrapping up some shopping. Let’s meet in 15 minutes.

  Where?

  A red, grinning, horned devil emoji popped up.

  Where you lost your shit an hour ago.

  Crap.

  Outside the Thieves Market?

  Yes.

  I sighed.

  Okay.

  As soon as I hit enter, though, I felt giddy. Like back in junior high right before I kissed my first girlfriend.

  Which kind of concerned me.

  I wondered if Russell was right – that I really was in love with this chick, and I was just lying to myself.

  That’s crazy, I thought. I’ve only seen her in a videogame. It’s not even HER, it’s a computer character. I have no idea what she really looks like.

  And I can’t get involved. I have a job to do so I can get out from under the FBI’s thumb.

  I had to focus. And I tried, I really did. I kept thinking about the orcs and how I could get them to trust me.

  I have to admit, though, as I walked back to the Thieves Market, daydreams about me kissing Jen kept slipping into my thoughts.

  Which was a really weird combination.

  When I got back to the marketplace, I had a few minutes to kill.

  I looked around and thought about what I should do to figure out the orc situation.

  And suddenly, just like that, the perfect opportunity presented itself.

  Or so it appeared after four shots.

  The head thug Oktar was sitting on a stool outside the same market stall as before – but this time he was looking intently at a piece of paper, studying it. He was surrounded by eight other heavily tattooed orcs, who stood around like henchmen waiting around for orders.

  This was it.

  This was a chance for me to sneak up in Stealth, figure out what was going on, and use it to my advantage.

  I immediately went into Stealth mode and crept across the marketplace, being sure to avoid bumping into people.

  I reached the orcs’ stall. It was filled with ornate rugs hanging from the walls, and a bunch of knickknacks on tables set up in the shaded area. Everything had a decidedly Russian flavor to it, from the designs on th
e rugs down to the Matryoshka dolls – those little Russian nesting dolls, where smaller dolls fit inside bigger ones. There were dolls with a knight, sorcerer, princess, jester theme, and another with different types of animals. A Dragon with a manticore inside it, with a griffin inside that, then an orc and finally a goblin. Pretty cool little knickknacks.

  As I crept closer, I could hear Oktar speaking in Russian to a subordinate.

  “They say the shipment is going to be delayed?”

  “Yes.”

  “How long?”

  “Two days at most.”

  “Tell him he loses 100,000 every day it’s late.”

  “He’s not going to like that.”

  “What do I care if he likes it or not? Tell him if he doesn’t like it, maybe he’d like to eat a bullet instead.”

  All the orcs laughed.

  I just shuddered.

  Oktar was one ugly bastard. All orcs were pretty rough-looking – big, three-inch-long teeth jutting up from their lower jaws like the worst underbite you can imagine. Neanderthal brows. Smashed-in pug noses.

  But this guy took ugly to a whole new level. He had some crazy scars across his face, including a deep one that started at his forehead, then ran across his eyelid and down his cheek. His jaw was even bigger and squarer than the average orc’s. And his eyes glinted with an especially vicious malice.

  He wore only sparse armor – shoulder plates, metal boots, and a metallic loincloth – to show off his extensive ink. I was familiar enough with Russian tattoos from prison to know that he had supposedly killed 13 people – and that was just the tattoos on his left arm, the one I could see from this angle. No telling how many were on his right side.

  According to the tattoos, he was a Vor – literally ‘Thief,’ but it meant a made man. A very high ranking officer in the mob. Probably not the main guy in charge of everything – but then again, I doubted the head of the mob was going to be hanging out in a videogame.

  Oktar was also wearing several rings – all gold, with large jewel stones embedded in them. It was slightly weird to see such a big, badass dude with giant rings on his fingers, but there they were.

  He also wore an amulet around his neck. The pendant had smooth blue oval set into a golden casing.

  As I drew closer, all of a sudden Oktar looked up and stared right at me.

  Which was impossible – I was in Stealth.