by Dante Doom
"You okay?" Sahara asked as she put a hand on Sang's shoulder. "You're starting to hyperventilate."
"What?" Sang asked, snapping out of the memory. "No, yeah, I’m fine. I'm fine." She took a deep breath and tried to push the memories away. That whole affair had been a nightmare, but as long as she didn't think about it, she wouldn't have to deal with it. And if she started to freak out, Van would ask what was going on. With the pressure the man was under, he would absolutely snap if he found out that Neil was close to death and that an MP – one of their own – had shot himself in front of her. Van couldn't know.
"if you're going to try and cry to convince us to do business, please save your tears," Bramif said. "I've heard every sob story there is."
"Waaah, little Billy has cancer and will die and he just wants to be an arch-mage," Sulif said as he raised his hands to his face and made a sobbing gesture.
"Oh, my dad's birthday is tomorrow and we can't afford any presents!" Bramif said, imitating his brother.
"Alright, alright," Van said. "We get it."
"We're good here," Sang whispered. Van nodded at her and turned to walk out of the room.
"Come on, team, let's move out."
"Have a nice day," Bramif said.
"Hope you get a better girlfriend next time!" Sulif shouted at Fredlin as the team slowly left the room.
"Well, that was a huge waste of time and energy," Kylian said. "What's next?"
"Take the team back to the base," Sang said. "I don't think we're going to have to worry about waiting too long to get those new characters." And with that, she and Van logged out of the game.
Van sat quietly in the back of the car as it sped along the highway. New York City wasn't too far off now. Sang had originally wanted to go alone, but he knew she didn't have a chance of understanding what these guys would try to give her. He needed to make sure that each character the Iron Dragons acquired would be perfect for the fight. There was no point in bothering to get new characters at all if Sang selected some subpar characters because these brothers thought they could pull a fast one over on her.
O'Hara was driving, and Sang was in the passenger's seat. No one said a word. Perhaps the strangest thing about this trip was the fact that Neil wasn't coming. Van would have figured that Neil would relish the chance to loudly threaten nerds and forcibly deprive them of their property, but Sang had said that he had something else going on. O'Hara was different today, too. Her normally violent, angry demeanor had been replaced with a quiet, contemplative silence. Something had to be wrong, but no one would open up about it.
"There," Sang said quietly after twenty minutes of driving through traffic. "That shop over there." She was pointing to a small computer store that read "Gregory Brothers Computer Solutions."
"That's the place?" O'Hara grunted. "Where's the parking?"
"I don't believe you can actually park in New York City," Van said.
"I've heard rumors about it being possible," Sang joked back. Even though she was joking and smiling, though, Van could still hear a sadness in her voice.
"Well, you guys go in and scope it out, and I'll be right there," O'Hara said.
"What?" Van asked. "What are we possibly going to do to convince these guys without… uh, your help, O'Hara?"
"They're nerds – you'll be fine. Just show them your badges and I'm sure they'll cooperate," O'Hara replied. "I'll find a place to park and join you."
"I wish Neil were here," Van mumbled as he climbed out of the car. He paused then to take a moment to absorb the sheer business of the city. People were all over the place, buskers were loudly singing on one of the street corners, and the smells were overwhelming. Van imagined the sheer chaos that the city would devolve into if there was some kind of serious attack, and swallowed hard and turned to face the computer shop.
"You ready?" Sang asked.
"I guess," Van said as he put his hand on the door. "What should we do?"
"They don't really know who we are, so let's just play it like Neil and O'Hara would," Sang said. "Be tough and aloof. They don't know that we're not really the enforcer types."
"Sure, sure," Van said as he wrapped his fingers around the handle. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open. The little bell to the shop jingled as he entered.
"Hi there," said a young twenty-something sitting behind the counter of the computer shop. Wires and circuits were all over the counter and he was busy welding two wires together. "What can I help you with?"
"I'm looking for Bramif and Sulif," Sang said as she walked up and slammed her hands on the table. The abrupt action was enough to startle the man into dropping his tools.
"Whoa, take it easy!" he said. "I'm Bramif… I mean, in the game, I am. Who are you?"
"Name's Agent Sang, and this is Agent Van," Sang said as she pulled out her CIA badge and flipped it open. "We're with the CIA."
"Nice business you have here," Van said as he ran his fingers over one of the sets of haptic goggles that was hanging from the wall.
"CIA? Oh, crap!" Bramif said. All the blood drained from his face.
"That's right," Van said as he leaned over the counter. He was trying his best to look as calm and relaxed as possible. "And we're here to ask you a few questions."
"Your brother here?" Sang asked.
"Yeah… Sam! Sam!" Bramif called as he walked over to the back door and opened it. "Come out here, please."
Sang shot a grin over at Van and winked. This was actually kind of fun. As long as the two brothers didn't get violent, they might not even need O'Hara.
"What is it?" Sam asked as he stormed into the room. He was wearing gloves, and was absolutely covered in green liquid. Van recognized it as haptic pod fluid. "I'm right in the middle of fixing a pod."
"These two are with the government," Bramif said. "They want to ask us some questions."
"Government?" Sam growled. "Look, I told you goons a million and a half times, just because we're certified Draco technicians doesn't mean we have access to the technology, okay? We just fix the stupid feedback issues."
"We’re not here about that," Sang said. "We're here to inquire regarding your extra-curricular activities."
"Seems that some people like to make their money by selling alternative characters in the Dragon Kings of the New World," Van said. Even speaking, he wondered how he could look intimidating to Sam, who was over six feet tall and had wide, square shoulders.
"What? The hell is the CIA poking around about a video game?" Sam asked. "We don't have time for this – I've got a pod to repair."
"Oh, right, you don't have time," Van said. "I guess we'll have to call Draco and ask them about your activities."
Sam glanced at Bramif, who merely held his hands up helplessly. After another moment, he spoke. "Okay, what do you want from us?" he asked as he slowly took his apron off and dropped his gloves on the ground.
"We're interested in this little character-selling operation you have going on," Sang said.
"Very interested," Van echoed.
"What does interested mean?" Sam asked. He leaned forward and placed both his hands on the counter. His arms were huge. At least Bramif had kind of shuffled off to the side and was sitting quietly.
"Are you familiar with the recent string of explosions that's been plaguing California?" Van asked.
"In San Francisco? Yeah. The news said it's some kind of natural gas problem. Big oil or whatever," Sam said with a scowl.
"Well, Uncle Sam has a different opinion," Van said, trying to channel Neil's cadences. "In fact, we're curious if it's terrorist activity."
"And here's the situation," Sang said. "We've been tracking their methods of operation, and it appears that these terrorists like to coordinate within this video game of Draco's."
Sam wrinkled his face. "Uh uh. Let me see that badge of yours," he said.
"I'm sorry?" Sang asked, dropping character completely. Her face softened considerably, and Van knew they were in trouble. Why couldn�
��t they just cooperate?
"We sell a lot of high value property to a secondary market, and we've got to protect against scammers," Sam calmly explained. "Let me get that badge of yours and I'll call your headquarters so I can verify that you guys are actually CIA, and not just some punks trying to play us for idiots."
Sang shrugged and took her badge out. "It's real; here." Sam took the badge and began to scrutinize it.
"Doesn't look real to me," Sam said. "Beat it, bozos."
Sang glanced at Van and mouthed the words "help me" to him. He shrugged at her. Normally, when Van mouthed off to Neil or O'Hara, they would hit him or shove a gun into his ribcage. Sam was huge compared to the diminutive Sang, though, and Van had never thrown a punch in his life. Where the hell was O'Hara? Still, he had to do something…
"Bozo?" Van asked as he stormed around the counter and got right up in Sam's face. "That badge is real, and you better think twice before you call a couple of government agents bozos."
Sam growled and stood up straight. Van tried to keep his angry and fierce expression despite the fact that this nerd was far scarier than he could ever have imagined. "Get. Out. Now," Sam hissed.
"Please," Bramif added.
"All it's gonna take is one phone call, and Draco will be all over you," Van hissed back.
"Yeah, like they're gonna find anything," Sam said. "We're reported all the time. It's a hassle, but we can pass any inspection they throw at us. Get out – and I'm not saying it again."
The bell jingled behind them as O'Hara walked in. "Dear God, I just had to abandon my vehicle in the middle of the road. There's no way to find a parking spot in this city!"
"Who the hell are you?" Sam asked.
"Name's Agent O'Hara," she said. "You guys get anything?" she asked as she looked at Van and Sang.
"They're not cooperating," Sang said.
O'Hara drew a revolver out of her jacket and aimed the gun square at Sam. She pulled the trigger, leading to a crack that was deafening.
"Oh my God!" Sang screamed as she dropped to her knees.
Sam stood paralyzed, his eyes wide with terror.
"Now, that first round had a blank in it," O'Hara said as she cocked the trigger on her revolver. "The next one doesn't. So, you jackasses better get Sang and Van whatever the hell they're whining about before I shoot one or more of you."
"Oh…oh God…" Sam gasped. "Please, please don't kill us."
"Yeah, we might need to get this moving along," O'Hara said. "I can't remember if we phoned the cops ahead of time."
"Sang?" Van asked. She had slumped to the ground and covered her ears. Her eyes were shut, and she seemed almost completely out of it. "Sang?" There was no response.
"Please, whoever you are, don't hurt us. Take all the money in the register," Bramif said.
"We're not robbing you," O'Hara said as she walked closer to the counter. "Well, I guess technically we are robbing you, but not of your money. Van, why are we here again?"
"We need characters," Van said. "Eight of them. For our special operations team."
"What?" Sam asked. "You mean you're not kidding about the terrorism?"
"No, we're not," O'Hara said. "And I'm now officially counting. Twenty-eight, twenty-seven, twenty-six…"
"Okay, okay, here," Bramif said as he grabbed a collection of USB sticks and scattered them out on the counter. He shoved wires out onto the ground and threw down a little 3D display system. "These are all of our best characters."
Van walked over and began to examine them. Sam was still standing still; his hands were up and he was shaking terribly.
"These should do it," Van murmured as he began to look at a character's stats.
"Perfect," Van said. This character was strong enough to be worth a few grand, easily. He looked over at Sang, who had finally started to snap out of her state. His ears were still ringing pretty badly from O'Hara shooting that gun, so he figured she was probably almost deaf from it.
"We good?" O'Hara asked.
"Yeah, we've got what we need," Van said as he helped Sang get to her feet.
"Wonderful," O'Hara replied. "Now, let's be really honest and clear with you fellas here; there will be no consequences for our actions here. No one was hurt, and that means today was the best day you're ever gonna have." She threw a wad of cash onto the table. "This should adequately compensate you for your work. Should you attempt to sabotage or tell anyone about us, you're gonna get a sternly worded letter from the three of us, and more. Got it?"
"Yes – yes, ma'am," Sam stammered.
"Great. Thanks, guys," O'Hara replied with a smile. She looked over at Van then. "Didn't I tell ya this place had the best customer service?"
4
"Are we going to talk about it?" Van asked as he examined himself in the mirror of the abandoned throne room. His new character, Fenwar, was rather striking. His previous character – that terrible bard, Semimodo – had been one of the worst builds he had ever designed, but this new character made up for it in spades. A Level 65 Berserker? Finally, he wouldn't be useless in combat anymore. He placed his hand against the massive warhammer that hung off of his back and gripped the handle. This was the kind of character he could get behind.
"Talk about what?" Sang asked as she examined her own self. She was Elfara the Bowqueen. She had opted to stick with the ranger class.
"The fact that you had some kind of panic attack back at the shop?" Van reminded her as he finished putting in his new settings. Those brothers really knew how to fake credentials. Since they were certified technicians, they had a method of smuggling the data into an existing pod in order to confuse the game into running a new account. Draco wouldn't have a clue who Van and his teammates were.
"I told you, I panicked because I thought she actually shot him," Sang said. "O'Hara is crazy enough to do it."
"Not nearly as crazy as Neil," Van said. He saw her eyes widen for a moment at the other agent's name. "What happened, Sang?"
"Nothing," Sang replied as she abruptly turned away from him.
"Is… is Neil dead or something? You and O'Hara have been in a weird funk, a gunshot traumatizes you enough to take you out for a few minutes, and Neil declined an invitation to rough up nerds, which is his favorite activity in all the world? I'm not stupid, Sang. Not nearly as stupid as you think."
"There… was an attack," Sang said. 'You had passed out from exhaustion."
"I knew it," Van said as he slammed his fist against the mirror. Much to his surprise, the mirror shattered into a thousand pieces. He had forgotten how strong his new character was. "What happened?"
"Some crazy guy from Draco was working as one of the military police. He shot Neil and then killed himself in front of me," Sang whispered.
"That's… insane," Van gasped. "And Neil?"
"He's in critical condition. They have no idea if he's going to pull through or not."
"Why shoot himself?" Van wondered aloud. "That doesn't make any sense."
"He told me something before he died; he said, 'our numbers are like the grains in the sand,'" she said. "They're literally just messing with us at this point."
"And you didn't tell me about this why? Because you were worried it might upset me? Distract me?"
"Yes!" Sang said. "I was worried that you'd flip out. You were already on the edge due to your exhaustion. What was I supposed to do? Gently tell you that a psychopath shot himself in front of me? That we could have been murdered in the blink of an eye?"
Van shook his head. "I have a right to know these things. Not that it makes any difference."
"I'm sorry," Sang said. "I was just trying to prevent you from losing your mind."
"I'm pretty sure I lost it a while ago," Van replied. "What with all of the stress and constant terror of seeing the world go up in flames, Neil getting shot sucks, and it really hurts that you had to hold this back from me, but… do we have time to even worry about this? To resolve any of it? Sang, I don't have time to process all of thi
s crap. Let's get the team together and get ready for the tournament."
"Are you angry with me?" Sang asked.
"I don't know anymore, Sang," Van said. "I get that you wanted to protect me, I do. I just don't like being treated like I'm a kid."
Sang turned to look at him, watching him take her in. Her new character was vastly different from the last one. This woman was six feet tall and had silvery hair. A scar ran across her face and a tribal tattoo was wrapped around her neck.
Despite the foreignness of the character, though, Van could see Sang's sorrow in her eyes.
"I made a judgement call. Not because I value you less, but because I know you're important," Sang said. "I don't make snap decisions, Van. That was a calculated choice, and it was the right one."
"Right, because you'll do whatever it takes to accomplish this mission," Van shot at her. The same old argument, about morality in wartime, was starting to surface again. This was just another layer of their differing philosophies.
Sang opened her mouth for a moment, and Van was ready for half a dozen insults to be hurled at him, but she merely shook her head. "I thought we agreed to stop arguing about these things. They don't go anywhere."
"Yeah, yeah," Van said. "Come on, then. Let's rally up the crew."
They walked out into the courtyard where the rest of the Iron Dragon leaders were located. Sahara, Kylian, and Fredlin were all in their new bodies. Sahara was a large, hulking warrior wielding two battle axes, Kylian was a short warrior with bright pink hair, and Fredlin's character was a wizened looking wizard with a stereotypically long white beard.
"Everyone happy with their characters?" Van asked.
"Happy as a clam,” Fredlin said. "I've always wondered what it would be like to play a high level wizard. Now, what's the plan?"
"We're going to have to journey to the Great Plains of Eternal Summer," Fredlin said as he took out a map. "It's less than two days to get there. That will give us plenty of time to scout the place out and make friends. No doubt there are going to be a lot of players."
