Merchant of Death

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Merchant of Death Page 18

by Jared Mandani


  After depositing a respectable advance payment into one of Keller’s private accounts, he instructed the hacker to keep an eye on all communications within both the Bureau and the Ministry that were directly related to John, and to report back to him as soon as possible. Keller willingly complied, and with that business concluded John was about to log off and grab some rest.

  Just after he finished communicating with his operative, however, a chat box suddenly popped up in the center of the screen:

  Lozenge: Hello John.

  John blinked at the screen for a split second, unable to believe what he was seeing. Then he scrambled to his feet to grab a weapon and check if the defenses of the bunker had been breached. He had just stood up when another message popped up.

  Lozenge: Before you start preparing to defend yourself from attack, John, I’d ask you to stay calm and not to worry. You are not in any danger. Your location has not been compromised. I only want to talk. I have something in my possession that could be of use to you. Please, hear me out.

  John sped-read the message and did a full security sweep of the bunker. When he was satisfied nobody was coming for him, he sat down slowly and stared at the chat box. He began by typing a message and clicked enter. His name along with what he’d written appeared beneath this Lozenge’s message.

  John: Who are you? How do you know my name?

  Lozenge: John’s not really your name, is it? It’s just an alias you use, one of many. Do you even remember your real name, John?

  John could, but only vaguely. With his parents dead and no other living relatives to speak of, there were only a very select few apart from him who did know his real name—which meant he either knew this Lozenge person or this Lozenge person was very good at finding out things that should have been kept closely hidden.

  John: Who are you? Do I know you?

  Lozenge: No. You don’t know me, but I know a lot about you. I know that you are running for your life and that you are using EWO to help finance your escape plan and build a new life for yourself. Like your associate Keller, I am a hacker and I wish to offer my services.

  John felt the anger bubble up inside of him. It wasn’t aimed at Lozenge as such, but at himself for not having a security system that was airtight. Nobody should have been able to trace him as easily as this, no matter how good they were. He tried to put a trace on Lozenge’s location but nothing came up. Next, he closed the chat box and had Gen change all the security protocols to cover his tracks. Five minutes later, the chat box appeared again.

  Lozenge: Don’t run away, John. I want to help. You need me.

  John: I don’t need help. I don’t need you. Leave me alone.

  Lozenge: You do need help, more than you know. I have in my possession a copy of a Bureau report straight from the Clandestine Committee which I really think you should read. It’s yours for eight hundred zitacoins.

  This gave John pause for thought. The Clandestine Committee was the most secret part of the Bureau. Only a handful of people even knew of its existence. And unlike a lot of these kinds of hidden organizations, it had never done the rounds on the conspiracy theory circuit… so Lozenge would not have heard of it online. There was the chance the hacker was just bluffing, but this Lozenge clearly had skills and knowledge that surpassed the average computer expert. In other words, a report like that could be extremely useful to John. He considered the options. Eight hundred crypto zitacoins was more than half of his earnings in cash money, and spending out so much would leave him at a distinct disadvantage. Yet, some inner voice told him it could be worth it. His fingers hovered over the keyboard for a few more moments of indecision and then he started typing again.

  John: I still don’t know who you are. How am I supposed to trust you if you won’t tell me what I want to know?

  Lozenge: Nobody trusts anyone in this game, John, you know that. Think about it. If I wanted to cause you harm, there would be a SWAT team knocking on your door right now, or a Chinese Assassination Squad. There isn’t, is there? I just want to sell on what I have and you are the best person to buy it. The report concerns you, after all.

  John decided then to take a chance. Lozenge knew far too much about him and he could have easily sold him out if he wanted to. Both his employers and the Chinese would pay twice the amount he was offering John for the report, so John had to accept that this Lozenge did want to help him, no doubt to further their own unknown agenda. He would have to take the risk and see what happened from there.

  John: All right. You have a deal.

  Lozenge: Good. You made the right choice.

  That remains to be seen, John said to himself as he set about making the transaction. As soon as he sent over the requested funds, a document promptly appeared in his inbox.

  Lozenge: I think you’ll find the information very interesting. Take care until we speak again, your life is on the line.

  John was about to type something back about wanting more answers when the chat box promptly disappeared and there was no means of getting it back. John stared at the screen, processing what had just occurred. What did Lozenge mean ‘until we speak again’? What did the hacker want with him and why were they so anxious to help?

  He called up his inbox and stared at the document in attachment. Curiosity overcame him now, but he resisted the temptation to open it. There might be a tracker virus attached to it that could reveal his location when he brought it up on his computer. He would open it somewhere else, on his tablet, just to be doubly careful. He considered leaving the bunker now and going out for a drive to do it, but chose instead to wait until he had gone to Concrete to collect his supplies. It would mean he was only risking one trip to the outside world and he could make a quick getaway if anything went wrong. It would mean waiting three days, but he was willing to do that rather than take foolish risks.

  He remained offline during the wait for the delivery. He mostly worked out with what little gym equipment he had and did general maintenance chores around the bunker. The time moved painfully slowly, but finally the time came around to begin his trip to Concrete.

  Locking the bunker securely, he got into his ATV and drove northwest toward Morovitz Creek. He headed into a woodland clearing and went to a large mound of earth which concealed a hidden garage similar to the one at the bunker where he kept the ATV. He got out of his vehicle and opened up the garage. Inside was a dark grey SUV with tinted windows. This was the specially modified backup car he used on missions and when he had to go into urban areas where he would show up on the extensive surveillance grid that spanned the United States. Getting into the SUV, he drove out into the clearing and then went back to the ATV and put that in the garage and then locked it up.

  Back into the SUV, he began the trip south to Concrete. Before he got onto the central highway, he flipped a switch on the control pad next to the steering wheel. Automatically, the number plates on the front and back turned around like a turnstile until they showed a different registration. Another button changed the color of the car from grey to metallic blue in a heartbeat. The car had the capacity to change the plates four times and could change into thirty different colors, making identification more difficult. As well as this precaution, he was wearing a hoodie made of a specialized light-reflecting material that kept his face continually shadowed—meaning it couldn’t be clearly seen by the CCTV cameras that lined the highway and the monitor drones that always filled the skies and kept a close eye on the citizens going about their daily business below.

  Despite this, he was still on edge the whole way to Concrete, his mind churning over the strange conversation he had had with the mysterious Lozenge and what might be in the report he had been sent. He was painfully aware that all of this could be a trap, but there wasn’t much he could do about that now. He needed his supplies and he had to see what the report contained.

  Staying as vigilant as a hawk, he reached the little town and headed to the dead drop site. It was now ten pm and
Concrete was as silent as the grave. He parked beneath a cluster of trees near the store and killed the engine and lights. He stared into the gloom and waited.

  An unmarked truck pulled up in front of the building at the agreed time. He watched as two men got out and took out the supplies, leaving them on the porch of the store before promptly leaving. John watched until they drove away and waited another twenty minutes before he started the engine again and moved cautiously toward the store.

  Pulling up in front of the property, he got out of the SUV and began quickly to load the stuff he’d ordered into the back of the vehicle before driving away. With the first part of his mission complete, he headed over to a drive-through restaurant on the other side of town that had seen better days. Like the rest of the town, it was shabby and rundown with an ancient Wi-Fi system that had been left behind during the march of progress. Most people wouldn’t give the place the time of day but it suited John’s purposes. As he had done with all the other businesses in Concrete, he had scoped it out a while ago and he had designated it as a secure site for possible meetings. For now though, he just needed to make use of the parking lot and its Wi-Fi system.

  Pulling up in the furthest corner of the lot, he took out his computer tablet and connected it to his VPN. After rigorously double checking the firewalls in place, he downloaded the report Lozenge had sent him and opened it.

  To his relief, he found that it was a Bureau report, and it did seem to come from the Clandestine Committee. He quickly scanned through it to get a gist of its contents and then began rereading it at a slower rate, taking in every detail. The document outlined a string of attempted cyber-attacks that had been conducted against the databases of large US corporations and government organizations in the last twelve months. The report linked the source of the attacks to criminal proxies in the employ of the Chinese Ministry of State Security. John’s name appeared in the report and it was clear his disappearance had caused quite a stir in the upper echelons of government. The blackmail material he possessed could bring the whole system crashing down and they were putting pressure on the Bureau to find him. The report stressed the urgency of locating and neutralizing him as necessary. Conventional methods had to date yielded no data on his location, so the author of the report recommended activating their network of sleeper agents to do the job for them.

  John grimaced as he digested this information. The Bureau had infiltrated the length and breadth of the world with sleeper agents, inserting them into every social strata, profession and lifestyle. The network was so extensive that potentially anybody a person met throughout their entire lifetime could be a sleeper; from the sweet little old lady crossing the road to the next-door neighbor they had known for thirty years. They could even be your partner or best friend. Most of them would live out their covers without ever having to be called upon by the Bureau, but the training and indoctrination they had received before insertion was so effective that when they were activated they would follow orders without question.

  One text or call with the activation code, and that sweet little old lady could be planting explosives at a military research facility. The unassuming next-door neighbor would be off assassinating a high ranking politician, and the family member you’ve known all your life could kill you and the rest of their loved ones in a heartbeat. John would now be literally surrounded by enemies. Even the mysterious Lozenge could be a sleeper agent brought into action to track him down.

  Instinctively, he looked around the parking lot, half-expecting to find operatives descending down on him en masse. Nothing stirred in the gloom around him and it seemed a pretty good bet that he was absolutely alone.

  The knowledge didn’t make him feel any easier, especially as further down in the report it stated that Chinese hackers were also working around the clock to track him down. He doubted his synaptic socket and SyLVR collar or all his other safety precautions were going to keep him safe in the long term from the Bureau’s sleepers or Chinese operatives. It would make it easier for both sides if he was dead, so the chances of cutting a deal for his freedom were slim. He had to remain in EWO and build up his finances. He needed to make enough to obtain a new face and identity and to start a new life far, far away from all this cloak and dagger shit.

  Rubbing at his tired eyes, John read through the report one more time to make sure he hadn’t missed anything that could prove useful, and then closed down the tablet. He removed the tablet’s battery and pulled out the storage drive. Taking out a magnet he had brought with him in the pocket of his hoodie, he used it to swipe the drive of its data. As he started up the engine and drove out of the parking lot, he opened the window and dumped the tablet in a nearby trashcan.

  As he headed back to the bunker, he plotted his next move. He would have to step up operations in the Eternal Battlefield faster than he had anticipated. He had the feeling that things were going to start getting pretty difficult for him.

  The day of reckoning was fast approaching.

  Chapter 10

  Sanjara Taur sipped at her coffee and scanned through the information on the screen. It certainly made for interesting reading and it might be a possible lead for locating her target. She had a feeling she might just be on the right track.

  “Haven’t you been to lunch yet?” Spence asked as he ambled back to his work desk opposite hers. “There something wrong?”

  Sanjara looked up and gave her fellow admin a quick smile. “No, just something a little odd going on in game, that’s all. I want to check it out.”

  “There’s always something a little odd going on in game,” Spence said dryly. “Most of the players down there are a little odd if you ask me.”

  “Well, there’s something odder than usual going on,” Sanjara clarified. “Haven’t you noticed a change in the behavioral patterns of the criminal elements in all three of the factions?”

  Spence stretched and munched on his bagel thoughtfully. “Um, the Jet Dragon Tong have been acting extra sneaky over in Bastion, like they’re putting together something big, but I haven’t noticed anything else strange.”

  “That’s because you spend all your time playing Moon Crafter on your phone,” Sanjara said playfully. “If you paid more attention to your work, you’d have begun to notice a trend. Want me to show you?”

  “Not really,” said Spence, “but you’re going to anyway. I can sense it.”

  Sanjara shook her head. She had worked with Spence for almost five years now here at Lionheart Studios, the company that had created and ran Eternal War Online. They had become good friends, best friends even, and she and her brother had gone out socially with him and his various girlfriends from time to time. Spence saw Sanjara as a confidante and someone he could trust completely. He had no secrets for her, and one day he hoped that their friendship could develop into something more. He’d never told her to her face, of course, he was too scared to explore those feelings fully because he had a phobia regards commitment. Sanjara knew the truth though. She had encouraged those feelings subtly like she was trained to do, but keeping him at a necessary emotional distance at the same time. One day, she might need his help to carry out a covert mission or it might be necessary to terminate him. Like her brother, Spence was utterly oblivious to Sanjara’s double life as a sleeper agent for the Bureau.

  Spence got to his feet and went over to her side of the workstation. He slumped down in an office chair and pretended to look with interest at the screen of data she was analyzing. “So, what am I looking at here?”

  “Like you said, the Dragon Tong are up to something big over in Bastion,” Sanjara said. “They are bringing in large quantities of slaves to the city but not selling them on. They just seem to be disappearing somewhere.”

  Spence frowned. “Disappearing, where to?”

  “You tell me,” she replied with a wry smile. “That’s not all. Over in Steamgrad, Enlightened NPC outlaws are running conveys across the Eternal Battlefield. They’ve been salv
aging low level gear from dead players as well as soul bound items still around within the six hour window before they can be returned, and selling them back to the same players or putting the gear up for sale to anyone who wants it.”

  “So they are doing a bit of salvage and selling, what’s the big deal?” Spence said. “They’re just showing a bit of entrepreneurial spirit. The AI does make the NPCs clever enough to do things on their own initiative after all.”

  “That kind of initiative only goes so far, Spence,” Sanjara replied. “The kind of operation going on here is far too organized and sophisticated for NPCs to run off their own bat. There are also reports of Tong slaves collecting gear off the battlefield and then disappearing out of sight, and potions that could only be brewed by Heretics are also beginning to show up in Enlightened and Seven Paths’ territory—which suggests criminals in all three factions might be working together.”

  Spence shook his head. “No way. The NPCs can’t do that. It’s not in their programming.”

  “Precisely,” Sanjara said with much satisfaction. “That suggests there’s some other intelligence behind all this, controlling things.”

  “Another intelligence? You mean a player?”

  “That’s the only explanation I can think of. There’s been talk of a merchant arranging deals to sell back gear, but nobody knows who it is. All the transactions take place through Enlightened thugs.”

  “So a player is trying to make a bit of money on the side, so what?” Spence said. “It happens all the time on here, you know that. The company turns a blind eye and they tell us to do the same.”

  “That kind of stuff is small scale and localized, this is in a completely different league,” Sanjara replied. “Criminal elements in all three factions are becoming bolder and claiming parts of faction cities as their own. This has never happened before. The crime NPCs have always stayed under the radar, but this new operation is changing things. The AI is actually generating lots of quests for players to go in and clear out these criminal organizations.”

 

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