by Terry Schott
“As if we need another advantage over the rest of the gaming world.” She snorted.
“Still.”
She raised one hand. “Look. I want to make a life for myself, based on my own skill and ability.”
“You’re barely a full member.” Luke rubbed his nose. “You’ve been a recruit and rookie for the past few years. That’s never fun. Dropping this would have made us fast-track you past all that crap.”
“Then I wouldn’t have gone through what the rest of you have. If you had let me become a member without paying my dues as a grunt, no one would respect me the same.”
“That’s true. Still, you missed out on all of us kissing your arse ‘cause you’re friends with the Pickle.”
“Please.” She almost spat the word. “I never said I was friends with the weasel. I know him.”
“Well, he must trust you.”
“Of course he does.” Sandy crossed her arms. “He’s my little brother.”
Luke’s eyes bulged. “Are you kidding me?”
She shook her head.
“Ha ha ha.” Luke slammed one hand against the table, a grin on his face. “Your brother is the Pickle.”
Sandy closed her eyes and nodded.
The rest of the table erupted into laughter.
When the commotion died down, she made a sour face. “Ha ha. Very funny. Can we get back on topic?”
Luke’s smile disappeared. “Is there any chance he could be wrong?”
She shook her head. “He’s never wrong. That’s what makes him the number-one source of information in gaming. He has contacts inside every major game studio at all levels. The reports are the same from all of them. None are working on releasing any games for next September.”
“He have any guesses why?”
“Yeah, but you won’t like it.”
“The Harbinger?”
Sandy nodded. “It’s coming to a head. The Pickle thinks it’s all gonna come crashing down by then.”
“People will be so concerned with clean water and food . . .” Luke said.
“That no one will care much about buying the newest video game.”
44
Nathan Bledsoe frowned as he looked out the window. “Where are we?”
The other man looked up from his phone. “The ‘burbs. Nowhere important.”
“I thought we were going to the airport.”
“I have a stop to make first.”
“Then make it after you drop me off.”
The other man sighed and tucked the phone away. “It’s on the way.”
Nathan glared. “Driver.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Airport.”
“Yes, sir.” The driver answered politely, but did not change course.
They came to a stop in front of a small house. Nathan shook his head. “This your stop?”
The other man nodded and reached for the door handle. “Want to come with me or wait here?”
“Please.” The older man laughed. “Even my servants wouldn’t be caught living in such a shack. I’ll wait here.”
“Suit yourself.” The man got out of the car and leaned back in, a grin on his face.
Something about the man’s expression gave Nathan pause. His eyes flicked toward the house. “Who’s in there?”
“Remember the power hack issue we were discussing?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going inside to talk to the people that are going to get the job done.”
“This is where your magical super-hackers live? Damn it.” Nathan reached for the handle on his side of the car. “I’d better join you.”
***
Linda opened the door and squinted as sunlight touched her face. “I told you not to come to my house.”
The man shrugged. “I was passing by.”
“Well, you can continue passing by.” She began to close the door, but the man held it open.
“I won’t stay long.”
Her eyes flicked to the other man, then she nodded and opened the door. “Fine. Get in here before the neighbours see you.” She led them to the living room. “Take a seat. I need to get myself a cup of tea. I’m not offering you any.”
The man shrugged. “Not thirsty, anyway.”
“I didn’t ask.”
Nathan smiled as she left the room. “She’s a sweetie.”
“We caught her on a good day. Usually she’s not as cheerful.”
***
“I think you’re out of milk,” Fay said, her head buried in the fridge. “I guess we can use bourbon instead.” She closed the fridge and smiled. “It’s past noon, right?”
“We have a problem,” Linda hissed.
“Good. It’s been boring around here the past”—Fay looked at her watch—“twenty-two years.” She laughed but stopped when Linda did not join in. “What’s wrong?”
“He’s here.”
“Who?”
“The Harbin—” She frowned and shook her head. “The H-man.”
“What?” Fay headed toward the living room, but Linda grabbed her arm.
“Stay here a second.”
“No way. You never let me meet the guy. Always going to restaurants and public places to get our assignments. For a while I thought he was actually made-up. If he’s actually here, I want to see him.”
“In a second,” Linda snapped. “He’s not the problem.”
“Then who is?”
“He brought someone else with him.” Her tone was flat. “I think Nathan Bledsoe is sitting in our living room.”
Fay’s smile disappeared and her eyes narrowed. “That’s not funny.”
“Do I look like I’m joking?”
***
Linda returned with a steaming cup in her hand and sat on the couch across from the two men. “You haven’t introduced me to your friend.”
“Linda, this is Nathan.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Nathan?”
“That’s right.”
“Interesting.” She blew across the lip of the cup. “I knew a Nathan once.” She took a sip of tea, her eyes locked on the World Bank president.
“It’s a common name,” Nathan said.
“Indeed.” She smiled, not a pleasant gesture, and looked at the Harbinger. “Does he know who you are?”
“Of course.”
Linda nodded. “Well then. What can I do for you gentlemen today?”
“New assignment.” The Harbinger reached into his pants pocket and withdrew a jump drive. “It’s all on here.” He held the drive toward her, but she did not move to take it.
“Give me the gist.”
“I need you to hack the power plants.”
“Which ones?”
The Harbinger smiled. “All of them.”
“In the US?”
He shrugged. “Start there, if you like.”
Linda looked at each of them, her eyes lingering on Nathan for an extra few seconds before returning to the Harbinger’s. “The entire world?”
“As much of it as you can hack into.”
“Sounds like fun.” Fay entered the room carrying a tray containing a teapot, cups, and cookies. She placed it on the table in front of Linda and turned to face the men, a smile on her face. “I miss anything important?”
“Not really,” Linda said.
“Good.” Fay looked at the younger man and nodded. “You must be the infamous Harbinger.”
He nodded.
Fay reached up to brush a stray piece of hair from her forehead. “And Nathan. You’ve definitely changed, but I would recognize those evil eyes no matter what the rest of your body looks like.”
Nathan frowned. “Do we know each other?”
She nodded and paused, raising a hand to her neck. “You don’t recognize me?”
“I’m afraid not.”
She leaned toward him, one hand reaching behind her back. She stopped with her face close to his. “Didn’t the pup introduce Linda?”
“Yes.”
“I guess we’ve all changed since spending that summer together.” She blinked and smiled. “I’m Fay.”
Nathan’s eyes hardened. “Oh my god.”
Fay’s hand was a blur coming from behind her as she struck Nathan in the neck. His eyes widened and his mouth fell open, blood pouring out. She pulled her hand away from his neck, removing a small knife from the wound she had made before plunging it in again. Nathan Bledsoe toppled toward the Harbinger, who leapt up and stepped away.
Nathan lay on the couch, grasping at his throat and gagging as blood streamed from the wounds. Linda sat in her chair, a calm expression on her face as she sipped her tea. Fay wiped the blade on the older man’s shirt, then dropped it onto the coffee table, stepping back and crossing her arms with a satisfied expression.
“What the hell are you doing?” the Harbinger yelled.
“Shut up ‘til he stops squirming,” Linda purred. “We never thought this moment would come. Don’t ruin it for us.”
The Harbinger looked at Nathan until the man’s hands flopped onto the couch and he was still. Fay nodded and sat. “That was everything I hoped it would be.” She reached up and wiped blood from her cheek. “This has turned into an excellent day.”
“Good for you, dear.” Linda drained her cup and leaned forward to place it on the table. Then she extended her hand toward the Harbinger. “Give me the jump drive.”
“Huh?” The man tore his gaze from the corpse.
“The drive.” Linda wiggled her fingers.
He handed her the drive and looked at Fay. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? That was Nathan Bledsoe, president of the World Bank.”
Fay chuckled. “I know who it was.”
The Harbinger shook his head. “Why?”
“Long story.” Linda tucked the drive into her pocket. “When we were younger, Fay and Nathan had a bit of a romantic fling.”
“Are you serious?”
“I was quite beautiful.” Fay shrugged. “Linda was a stunner herself.”
“Anyway.” Linda sniffed as she looked at the body. “Things between them did not end well.”
“Ha!” Fay laughed. “There’s an understatement.”
“What happened?”
“Bastard tried to kill us.”
“Worse. He drugged us and turned us over to the Russians.” She smirked and glanced at the Harbinger. “When you were a little boy, our country was not friendly with Russia.”
He looked at Nathan and ran one hand through his hair. “This is bad. This is really bad.”
Linda laughed. “You came here to ask me to fry the planet’s power grid. Who cares if the worst piece of garbage in the world finally got what was coming to him?”
“This is going to throw the bank into chaos.”
Fay snorted. “No it won’t. There are lots of other snakes to pick up where old Nate left off.”
“You’re wrong.” The Harbinger shook his head.
“How so?”
“Nathan was helping me with my plans.”
“We guessed that when we saw him sitting on our couch with you.”
“No one else knew that he was helping me.”
Linda’s smirk disappeared. “Oh.”
“Don’t try and tell me he was one of the good guys.” Fay shook her head. “I won’t believe that for a second.”
“He wasn’t one of the good guys. In the circles that he frequented, he was the only good guy. Without Nathan Bledsoe, everything that I’ve set into motion will likely snowball out of control.”
“Well, junior.” Fay leaned forward and patted his knee. “You’d best make sure that doesn’t happen.”
He looked at the two ladies and shook his head.
Linda sat down at her desk and flexed her fingers before resting them on the keyboard. “Still want me to kill the power plants?”
45
Atticus Specter entered the small bank. The security guard, a man in his late forties, glanced in his direction. From the corner of his eye, he saw the man square his shoulders and stand taller, his right arm twitching. The general recognized the beginning of a salute, but the guard stopped himself before completing the gesture.
Atticus got in line and nodded to the elderly lady in front of him. There were only a couple people in the line, and it moved quickly. When it was his turn, he stepped up to the kiosk and smiled at the teller, a middle-aged woman with straight blonde hair cut in a pixie style. She blinked and smiled as well. “Hello, sir. It’s good to see you again.”
“How are things, Carol?”
“Very good, thank you.” Her eyes swept the area behind Atticus. “I’m still getting used to giving sitreps in a bank instead of from a tent in the desert, but the danger levels are significantly lower in this theatre.”
“This isn’t a theatre, Carol. It’s your home.” She shrugged and he laughed. “I’ve come to let you know that the time will soon be here.”
Carol’s grin faded, her expression becoming calm. “Time frame?”
“Six months. Maybe less.” Atticus reached into his jacket and withdrew an envelope. He placed it on the counter and pushed it toward her. “Assemble your leaders and begin to limit newcomers.”
She picked up the envelope and placed it below the counter. “Any significant changes to the scenario?”
“No. Use current intel and updates. Heavy guard on the helicopters and fuel. They will be our best hope for long travel.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Expect power plants to collapse soon.”
“Can we stop that from happening?”
The general shook his head.
Carol pursed her lips and nodded. “We are solid here.”
“I knew you would be.” He stood at attention and saluted and she returned the gesture. “I hope to see you again, Carol. Take care of our people.”
“We will make you proud, Lord.”
He smiled and nodded. “You always have.”
***
Sandy fidgeted in her chair, grimacing as Luke placed the cup of coffee in front of her. “I should be doing that.”
Luke laughed and sat beside her. “You’re a full member of the club now.”
“And you’re the leader.”
“So? I’ve never expected special treatment.”
“You don’t, but the rest of us know you deserve it.”
“Please.” He crossed his arms. “We’re sitting here waiting to meet a legend and it’s all thanks to you. I could be your personal servant ‘til the end of games and still owe you.”
She laughed. “He’s a little brat.”
“The Pickle”—Luke smiled despite his serious tone—“is not a little brat.”
“He always was to me.”
“Your brother is a prophet.” Luke froze, his eyes widening. “Oh my god.”
“What?”
“He’s the Harbinger.”
Sandy laughed again, shaking her head. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“It makes sense.”
“The entire world of gamers, from the most skilled professional to a beginner reading his first web article, worships him because he has all the latest news on games and strategies. Somehow, the little creep calls himself ‘the Pickle’ and fans drop to their knees, waiting for what he will predict next.”
“He’s magical.”
“Stop it.”
Luke opened his mouth to speak but paused as the door opened and a young man entered. He had long black hair, frizzy but pulled back into a ponytail. He wore a graphic t-shirt featuring a prominent video game character and faded blue jeans. A thin line of wispy hair attempted to form a mustache on his upper lip. His eyes were brown and bloodshot, and his skin was pale with faint traces of teenage acne on his chin and forehead. He looked at Sandy and his eyes narrowed. “Puke.” The word was not kind, but he did not sound angry as he addressed his sister.
“Pickle.” She leaned back in her chair and shook her head.
Luke looked a
t each of them and frowned. “Is that your nickname for him?”
The young man laughed. “She always called me that. When it came time for me to choose an identity, I thought it would be funny to make the Pickle famous.”
She shrugged, then smiled. “Eventually I got a kick out of it, though.” She stood and the two hugged.
Luke laughed. “I knew you didn’t hate him.”
“We’ve always been a close family. I love the little troll.”
The Pickle laughed and pushed Sandy’s shoulder. “And for a she-ogre, you’re not as horrible as you could be.” He shook hands with Luke. “Good to meet you, Luke. I’m a big fan.”
Luke flushed. “I’m thrilled to hear that.”
“Oh god.” Sandy groaned. “Am I gonna have to listen to the two of you write love poems to each other?”
“Ouch.” Luke winced. “I guess we can do that later.”
“Good.” She sat down and reached for her glass. “Why are we here, bro?”
“Everything is going to crap soon.” They all sat. “I’m trying to save as many lives as I can.” He nodded toward Luke. “I have to warn you about something.”
“What?”
“You have to evacuate some of the towns that you’ve been stockpiling in.”
Luke’s expression went blank, but then he sighed. “There’s no point in saying I don’t know what you’re talking about, is there?”
“Nope.”
“My group has spent a lot of time and money building safe places to occupy when it all goes bad.”
“I know. I think it’s a great idea, actually. There are a few that you want to get out of, though.”
“Why?”
“Someone else is already playing in the same towns.”
“We can handle that.”
The Pickle laughed. “If you could, then I wouldn’t be advising you to leave.”
Luke considered the advice. “Gangs or military?”
“Military.”
“Vets?”
The Pickle nodded.
“Any chance my people could stay and co-exist with them?”
“Your people could stay, but they would not be in charge.”
Luke drummed his fingers against the tabletop. “Our club is diverse. We have our own veterans. A lot.”
“Then ask them about the Lord. If they know that name, then they’ll tell you the same thing I am. His people will rule the settlements that they inhabit and they won’t share power.”