by Ryan Burnett
“Actually you ladies will have to leave.” I say without looking back at them.
“Cid…are you fucking serious?” said Deborah. That one had a mouth on her, but ultimately she was still docile enough to be fun. The little bit of spice was just a necessary part of her flavor.
“Yes it is very unfortunate but you can be assured you will be paid for the entire night along with the usual tip. Just no goodbye kisses. In fact take the back way out, you know how It breaks my heart to make you leave but business is business.” I said, never turning to address them face to face.
“Okayyyy Cid. But you know what they say about all work and no play!” cooed Monica,
“Yeah baby you need to call us again reaaaaaaaaaallly soon!” Chirps Deborah all attitude now gone from her voice.
I remained silent as I heard the birds of paradise gather their bags. It wasn’t long before I heard their heels tapping once again to carry them out of the room. Only then did I let the Jack in and focused my VRN to lock both the entrances to the room. Taking a look at him in the better lighting that my room provided; I could see that he looked like shit. His black suit and tie were ruffled and it actually appeared as if his black glasses were cracked. His usual refined appearance must have gotten all out of place from the effort of dealing with the scum necessary to find my Alex. But I suppose that was his purpose. Handling my dirty business so I didn’t have to.
“So…. Tell me what the fuck is going on. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t have something to say.”
“Yes Mr. Sitavi. I know this area is secure but you can never be too careful. Especially with another full week until the properties video logs are wiped. Shall we continue via VRN?” He asked.
“Don’t fucking use my name. Use our code…and you’re right to be security conscious. You and I cannot be public with this! Of course. Good thinking” With the right security measures in place one VRN interfacing directly with another was the ultimate form of privacy. If the two VRN’s were separated from any outside networks the resulting cyber communication, if made from a secure location, would be invisible and virtually untraceable. It was the one way we could be absolutely sure there were no eavesdroppers. I took a long hard look at the Jack, a soldier of sorts and a man who had served me longer than any other. I gave him a nod before mentally feeling for the barrier that separated my virtual world from the real one and pushed my perception through. Once again I was seated in my throne, beasts to my left, women to my right, and torches casting a primal yet regal light to the entire area. Kneeled before me was The Jack.
Just as in real life here he had a tall warrior’s body. His toga was utilitarian and the sword and scabbard at his side left no doubt as to the deadly purposes he could be put to. What was most striking about his appearance here was that his head appeared as that of a bull. I wondered what it was in my mind that likened him to yet another mythical beast. It wasn’t his mannerisms; in fact he had never been anything but courteous even in the midst of my bouts of uncontrollable intensity. Perhaps it was that I considered him as functionally closer to the fiends of my menagerie. A unique creature of use and purpose, rather than the fleshy weak beings that existed for my pleasure and contempt. He was a mixture of both worlds. Something to be controlled but also something to be valued.
“Well Mr….. Well King, I was able to meet the person that I had been referred to and they did agree to use their knowledge of Arc’s underbelly to find Alex but there were complications.” He said. It was strange hearing his slightly accented English instead of a guttural roar coming from the mouth of the Minotaur. I was pleased at his use of my codename but if he was going to bother to deliver a report it needed to be uniform and perfect.
“No names.” I said, a hint of disappointment bleeding through my tone.
“But sir this place is by definition completely secure…” He began.
“I said, NO NAMES!!!!!” I gripped the edges of my throne in my rage.
“My apologies...It was no matter meeting the agent and convincing him to undertake the mission. In fact they had just agreed to find the Ace and I was about to give them the package when the area was attacked.” Jack said his voice never wavering.
“WHAT!?!” all trace of my previous playfulness and good mood were gone. The Jack knew that these were not the results I expected or paid for.
“I do not believe it was a setup although that is a possibility. Our information networks still indicate that none of your competitors know anything about the Ace or your other clandestine actions. There is also the possibility that the gunman was a friend or an agent of the Ace himself, from what I could see he wore the same style of ridiculous leather clothing that his scene is so fond of, but that too is unlikely as he seemed to be mostly unaware of my presence and had a different objective at Club Pangea. “
“So why didn’t you apprehend or question him?!?” I shouted mere seconds after he had ended his sentence.
“His abrupt manner of attack threw the club into confusion. Apparently he remotely overloaded the generators and then began to open fire at random. I returned fire but I could not reach the assailant. Staying at the scene would mean being picked up by Peace Keeping Drones which would cause unneeded complications. I elected to remain as anonymous as possible, as I said I was not the main target and no one was killed by either of our salvoes. You need not worry about my presence being known. Our police contacts will make sure that the ballistics report is very un-thorough when it comes to the rounds fired by my weapon.” The Jack replied flatly.
“So you fucked up but you haven’t fucked this whole thing to death quite yet. I need you to handle this. I need you to handle this or I will find someone who can.” I said, suppressing the anger; letting my voice grow cold.
“Sir. King. You know my capabilities very well.” The Jack stated.
“Yes, Jack. Yes I do.”
“I have to tell you though…” I could hear the hesitation in his voice but I knew that at the very least he would not shy away from giving me bad news in its entirety.
“….the briefcase is gone. There is nothing connecting it to either one of us but I understand the credentials are extremely expensive and hard to come by. If the underworld contacts I met are as capable as I was lead to believe they have it now …but I cannot guarantee that, nor can I….Nor can I vouch for their reliability. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were on the zap.”
“So you TRUSTED the LIFE of the single MOST IMPORTANT PERSON to my future to a couple of ADDICTS. Jesus Christ. You should just give me a GUN TO SHOOT MYSELF!!!”
“Sir. This is not over yet. I was assured that although unorthodox they were among the best at what they do. It may just have been that I have underestimated just how unorthodox they were. This was my mission. The expense of the credentials can come out of my retainer fee…”
“Listen. Jack. I don’t care if they are unorthodox. I don’t care if they are Polka dotted pimps from Poland! If they have the briefcase and they can find Alex great. I don’t care how they do it as long as it gets done and my name is not on the news. If they don’t or if they are not capable then they need to be silenced. We can have no loose ends in this!” I finish my rant and with a clear picture of the situation I could now relax a little in my seat. In the back of my mind I know I have violated my own protocol by using Alex’s name but I was so angry I did not care. I hated to trust anyone but right now I just had to trust the Jack and his junky low-lives to handle things. I just needed to maintain my public composure and stamina.
“I’ll go take care of it sir.” The Jack said after a long silence.
“Yes….go now” I replied distractedly.
The Minotaur walked out of the throne room and I willed myself back to consciousness just in time to see his tall black suit close the door with a slight slam as he exited the same way he had entered. The Jack’s transition to the real world had been swifter than mine. Different people interfaced a different rates but his speed was unnatural. If only
I knew how his brain worked…. I sat in silence for a short while before activating my intercom again.
“Could you please have the chef staff make me a large Greek salad with Caesar and ranch dressing?” I said to my PA.
“Yes sir. Will that be all?”
“No. Call the escort agency once more. I need to see Monica and Deborah again right away.”
“….Yes sir.”
They would probably end up charging me for two nights but at this point it didn’t matter. Getting what you want was often times difficult but maybe that was what made wanting anything worth it.
Chapter 6
Angela
02:14:51
The interior of my apartment is immaculate but nearly barren. The countertops look as if no one has eaten off them and not a single sofa or cushion was out of place. As much as I like to think it was the result of a clean lifestyle I knew it was mostly the fact that I never had time to come back here and do more than grab an hour or so of sleep usually after watching about 15 minutes or less of a video
broadcast. Sometimes I felt like I kept myself busy just so I didn’t have to come back here. Solitude wasn’t the issue, I was more than comfortable spending time by myself, but rather it was the sense of being “home” and the way that this place completely failed to capture it; that’s what got under my skin.
I couldn’t help but admit to myself that I was exhausted but now that the terror had passed I was far too wired to even consider passing out. I reached to my refrigerator handle only to stop myself once I noticed that my hand was shaking. I retracted my quaking palm back up and clutched it to my chest determined to contain whatever it was inside of me that I couldn’t let go. I refused to let the slight sting of emotion gather in my eyes, I was just too jittery for food or alcohol tonight. All I had to do was remain calm and remember my mantras and everything would be fine. I inhaled and exhaled trying to find some clarity amiss the static of errant emotion still bouncing around inside of me. Eventually I gave up and settled for grabbing my fuzzy zebra striped blanket and curling up on the couch.
I had seen bar fights before and last month the bouncers in the security team had to rush the dance floor en masse to stop a gigantic brawl. But I had always felt distant. Safe and removed from physical harm with a full staff at my disposal in case of emergency but tonight had been different and I couldn’t help but become frustrated with myself for being so rattled. As soon as the shots had gone off I had felt small and fragile; painfully aware that at any moment an armed psychopath could erase me in an instant. It was humbling in the absolute worst kind of way.
I hardly remembered answering any of the questions or handing over passwords to the security data. Even now this entire night seemed distant and far away. The siren drones had arrived first which had everyone either frozen in their tracks or scrambling for some form of cover all in the hopes to be spared the riot gas that the hovering machines could deploy at a moment’s notice. The chaos had come to a shrieking halt before the officers even set foot on the scene. Through it all I found myself repeating the Photographist’s Cardinal Mantra.
“The truth is the truth; and I am its witness,
Witness to the light and the dark. Positive and the negative,
See the world reflected through my eyes,
And through my sight we are all uplifted”
It helped me put a perspective on any crisis. It wasn’t necessarily a comfort but more of a source of Knowledge. The words reaffirmed my certainty that despite everything that could and probably would go wrong, that the things that I saw and heard and felt would not be for nothing. No matter how bad things were the record of my experiences would exist. Even if I died that record would still live on. It was the quiet lonely times like this one which made me wish for the luxury of viewing these things from a third person perspective. Maybe then I could make sense of everything.
The police analyst had approached the data that I had handed over to them with a cold clinical demeanor that had given the events a strange façade of clarity. The power failure and the gun shots had happened within minutes of each other like some sort of coordinated assault. That fact alone made it more likely that there was more than one person involved in the incident despite the fact that we only had video feeds showing a single shooter. That in itself wouldn’t be so strange if not for the fact that nothing had actually been taken or stolen
There had been no actual demands or threats. No attempt to hack into our expense terminals. In fact the more things we checked for the more the whole scenario seemed totally random and purposeless. Just another senseless act of violence. The initial response team had suspected a hit attempt, several persons of interest with mob connections were known to occasionally “slum” it at Pangea, but there had been no bodies to identify and autopsy. In fact all the injuries that had been sustained were the result of the stampede the shooting had caused as opposed to the bullets themselves.
As of an hour ago no hospital had reported any gunshot wound victims related to the incident nor had anyone come forward to claim responsibility for the attack. The theory the police were running with was that it was a sort of gang initiation ritual but that seemed fishy to me. Why draw attention when you had nothing to gain? I desperately wanted to find some reason, some logic, some motivation for the attack but there was none and despite the residual adrenaline in my system my mind was tired to the point of numbness.
I wished I could say the numbness was entirely the result of exhaustion from work and my time with analyst and investigators but a part of it was shame as well. After I had made it out in the alley there were so many people running and moving and pushing to get out of the area before the siren drones arrived that people were shoving and fighting with no regard for anyone but themselves. Mantra or not I couldn’t have just thrust myself into the midst of that madness, just looking out into the crowd had made me short of breath and dizzy, and so I did the only thing I could think to do. I had hidden like a coward. I had found the nearest dumpster and crawled in without a second thought and repeated the mantra until the investigators found me. At least I hadn’t cried. If I had to greet the investigators with smeared and running makeup I don’t think I could have lived with myself.
I thought about digging through my closet for my Agoraphobia medication. The anti-anxiety pills would definitely calm my nerves, but a small part of me kept me there on the couch. The fear I had felt tonight was going to make some really honest photage and the experience itself wasn’t something that should be diluted no matter how tempting that option was. Lately, I had been exhausting myself by indulging my workaholic nature but it had been a while since I had last truly felt something. In the morning I would go through the security video and see if I could get a better grip on what had happened.
I sighed as I snuggled up on the couch and tried to go to find the most comfortable way to rest my head against the cushion when a thought popped into my head that made my drowsy eyes snap open. It was a strange thought but I couldn’t deny it once it was there. I needed to get a gun. My father used to collect rifles but those had all been sold along with his estate quite some time ago, but I didn’t need anything nearly that big. I think I would be happier with something smaller as long as it could shoot. After tonight I knew I would never feel safe with nothing but a small bottle of pepper spray…at least not while the culprit was still at large.
I gently rubbed my own tense neck muscles and massaged my VRN thinking about all the video data it had captured tonight, and how if fate hadn’t of been on my side that recording could have been the very last I ever made. Almost against my will my eyelids began to gravitate lower and lower until it was all I could do to give the VRN command to turn out the lights. I didn’t even bother turning on the TV. I knew that whatever was on I wouldn’t be able to make it through the opening credits.
******************************************
I approached a small white building with my head held high despite the protestors on
either side of me. Shouts of “heretic!” and “abomination” flow around over and under me but never through. I am proud of my decision and I will not stop now. As I walk through where their gathering is thickest which is right in front of the main doors fear almost makes me stop walking. The crowds on either side of me make the dark tide of panic well up inside of me. The agoraphobia made my heart sound as if it was attached to a high end subwoofer, its frantic beat booming in my ears. I try to keep my eyes trained on the front door but they are drawn to the signs that are being shaken angrily at me and those that walk beside me.
“Don’t Steal from The Dead”, “You call it art I call it IDOLATRY”, “Cultist deserve death and damnation”, “Experience without morality = SIN” and dozens of others slogans are brandished at us as if we hadn’t thought about what we were doing already. As if we didn’t understand the choice we were making and had decided to do this on a whim. Each of us had our own reasons and as I crossed the barrier and followed my small crowd to the interior of the Photographist center I knew for certain that those reasons were bigger than some religious zealots and their arts and crafts.
I had heard of groups of aspiring Photographist being attacked and even Photographist centers being burned down before but the crowd I was with was young and with the exception with two middle aged men and a women in a wheel chair who looked old enough to be my grandmother in my mind we looked too innocent to attack. The crowd had yelled and shouted but they hadn’t thrown anything. I tried not to question our good fortune too much and focused on keeping my mind clear as possible as we reached the anteroom. One of the older men went to talk to the receptionist and inform her that our group had arrived and would be ready for our procedures. I for one tried to keep to myself and twiddle my thumbs while staring at the fabric on my pink floral print dress.
