by Dante Doom
"Well, I gotta ask the question – why the hell would Draco shoot me and not you?"
"I don't know," Sang said. "I keep asking myself that question, over and over again."
Neil grinned a wicked grin again. "Because they're not sure they're gonna win this one. See, if they killed you and Van, the operation would still keep going. The Iron Dragons are still in motion and we've spread a lot of false intel about there being several different branches – across the country, running the game, too. So, Draco's starting to get worried and, instead of killing the leaders, they're just trying to weaken them. They traumatize you and it slows you down."
"That explains why they bumped the tournament," Sang said. "Yeah, they've got to be nervous."
"So, here's the thing: if they are so nervous, they'll take anything that they can get. They're all in at this point, so if they don't use any advantage they can get their hands on, they're in trouble."
"I'm following," Sang said.
"My plan's a simple one. We draw the leak out by staging a conflict between you and the CIA. Make it look like you're in trouble. The mole won't be able to resist making you an offer."
Sang shrugged. "If there is a mole, you mean."
"I'm dead certain there is," Neil said. "It could be any one of us. Frederick, O'Hara, Van, any of those operators."
"You think O'Hara could be the mole?" Sang asked. "Isn't she your best friend?"
"I love O'Hara like she's my own sister," Neil said, "but I pistol whipped my real sister last Thanksgiving. I don't trust anyone."
"I don't even want to begin to ask what circumstances would warrant you pistol whipping your sister," Sang said as she put a hand on her face. "Sure, whatever your plan is, let's try it out. Maybe it'll work."
"Great, we'll get into a fight in the cafeteria in an hour; that's when the staff is eating," Neil said as he stood to his feet and wobbled a little. "Urgh," he grunted as he put a hand on the bandage on his stomach.
"Are you sure you're going to be okay doing this?" Sang asked. "I mean, health-wise?"
"Oh, the doctor told me that if I move around too much I might die," Neil said, "but what the hell do doctors know?"
"I would scold you," Sang said, "but the world is kind of in peril here, so I guess it makes sense to go forward."
As Neil staggered to his wheelchair, refusing help from Sang, she couldn't help but remember the last thing he had said to her before he'd lapsed into unconsciousness from his gunshot wound.
"Neil?" she asked as he sat in his chair.
"What?" he barked, clearly annoyed by the pain and the question, both. He gritted his teeth hard and Sang could see that he was in agony.
"You warned me about Van a while back. You told me that, if he did snap, he'd betray us. Do you think he could? Do you think he could throw away everything he's worked so hard for?"
"That's the thing," Neil said as he turned his wheelchair around to leave her room. "He worked hard for his video game all of his life. These last three months have been only a sliver of his life. Would you trade everything away for just three measly months? He likes to play the hero, but when it comes down to it, I don’t think he has the guts to see his home burn down."
"You think it doesn't take guts to betray his friends?"
"Ha, you'd be surprised how easy cowardice is," Neil said as he shook his head. "You know him better than me, but that can be a double-edged sword. See, when you get close to someone, you kind of become blind to their flaws. The more you like them, the easier it is for you to miss something completely. You don't see the signs until it's too late."
"What would you know about friendship, Neil?" Sang asked. "You're an abrasive jackass who routinely shoves guns into the mouths of people who irritate you."
"My wife killed herself," Neil quietly whispered. "Ten years ago. I thought everything was going great, and then one day, she blew her brains out."
"What?" Sang gasped. "Are… are you... serious?"
Neil shrugged. "When you get too close, you don't see the signs. But when you look back, you see it clear as day. Sang, don't think for a second that Van won't sell us out. If we're lucky, he won't. If you can prevent it, do everything you can to convince him the real world is worth living in. If you can't stop him politely, though… well, you know what to do."
"Why not pull him off of the project then?" Sang asked. "If you're so convinced he'll betray us?"
"You ever hear of Cassandra?" Neil asked as he wheeled off. "Cafeteria in one hour!"
Sang shook her head as she watched the madman put on a trucker hat and sunglasses. After her last conversation with Van, it was clear to her that he would do what was necessary, regardless of the cost. Still, there was something about Neil's words that put doubt in her heart. The question was, was the doubt a bad thing?
8
Sang rubbed her eye as she sat in her bedroom. It was swelling up significantly and she could barely see out of it. Her brief stint as a theatrical actor hadn't gone as she had imagined it in her head. She had arrived to the cafeteria during what had looked to be some kind of staff morale party. This made sense, as the operators were often working 14 hour shifts that were seemingly endless, and weren't allowed to leave the compound for security reasons.
Neil had been waiting for her and had begun to yell at her fiercely, telling her that she wasn't allowed to bail on the mission. Sang had quickly picked up on the plan and begun to tell him that she was sick and tired of the risk and the danger, and that she couldn't sleep at night and things were getting too intense for her. It hadn't her best work as an actor, but she'd thought she sold the idea to the others around her.
At the pinnacle of her argument, though, Neil punched her right in the eye and knocked her to the ground. He then jammed his gun in her mouth and told her that, if she bailed now, she'd be dead and in a desert before sunrise. That had definitely not been what she'd expected, and she certainly hadn't consented to that part of the operation. Afterwards, she was cuffed and dragged to her bedroom, even as Neil apologized profusely while coughing up blood.
Of course, the injury was a small price to pay for the plan of luring out some kind of a spy, if a spy even existed, but still, it would have be nice if Neil had held back a little. That man was incapable of restraint, she thought to herself again.
Tired of thinking about the scene, she eyed the clock, seeing that it was almost midnight. She hoped someone would show up soon.
As Sang sat and contemplated what she'd say to this mole, there was a knock on the door, followed by O'Hara gingerly opening the door.
"Hey," O'Hara said. "I heard Neil gave you what for."
"Yeah," Sang said, feeling her heart go into her throat.
"Well, I heard you were trying to bail, so you deserved it," O'Hara said as she shook her head. "This isn't some day job, Sang. We're on a mission and I don't care how stressed you are; you knew what this was when you committed to sticking around. If you try to escape this, I will track you down and you'll have more to worry about than a black eye. I'm talking, you won't ever be able to walk again."
"Yeah, of course," Sang said, breathing a sigh of relief. In a weird way, the savageness of the woman's words was comforting. It would have been a major shock to discover that O'Hara was some kind of a foreign operator.
"Good, so you should get some sleep," O'Hara replied as she slammed the door shut.
Sang sat in silence and wondered if maybe she should just go to sleep. Would anyone really come to meet with her? It was doubtful. She laid on her back and closed her eyes, breathing deeply as she tried to ignore the throbbing in her eye.
As she rested, though, there was a slight clank in the air vent above her. She opened one eye to see a woman's face looking at her through the grate. Sang recognized her as one of the operatives.
"Pssst," the operator whispered. "Sang?"
"What the hell are you doing in there?" Sang asked.
"Listen, we don't have much time. You want out, don't you? I coul
dn't help but overhear your argument with Neil. I also couldn't help seeing him assault you like that."
"We just had a disagreement, that's all," Sang said as she sat up and went to touch her eye again.
"A disagreement? That's not what I'd call it. But, hey, you're safe with me," the woman said. "My name's Kenza. I'm one of the operators."
"Nice to meet you, Kenza," Sang said. She had never really bothered talking with the operators, as they were usually too busy to talk to anyone. There was a lot of work they had to do to maintain the pods and stay plugged into the game system so that they could monitor Sang and Van's progress.
"They've posted a guard out in the front – that psycho, O'Hara," Kenza said. "So keep your voice down."
"Right, so how do you recommend we get out of here? Is that air vent big enough for two?" Sang asked.
Kenza shook her head. "I can't bust you out of here; this place is locked down hard. But there is a way you can escape in the game."
"What? In the game? I want to get out of here," Sang said.
"No. You want to survive, though, don't you? There's a way out; you just gotta trust me on this."
"I'm listening," Sang said.
"Draco's not as bad as you think. Really. They reward the people who follow them. I… I might have made contact with them a few hours ago, when you got walloped like that. They've agreed to grant you amnesty, but we need something from you first."
"What's that?"
"They can't figure out where you guys are in the game. They know you've switched characters, but without your tracking numbers, they have no chance of locating you," Kenza said. "If you give us the tracking numbers, they'll make sure you're spared in the raid. Then you just gotta wait it out a day. That's it. One day, Sang. And it'll all be over."
Sang stood to her feet and looked up at Kenza. "You mean it? But if you're the operator, why don't you have the tracking numbers?"
"The ones we were given don't work. We can follow Bidane and her people, but you, Van, Fredlin, Kylian, and Sahara, your numbers have been restricted."
Sang grinned. That had been a small precaution she had taken when they'd retrieved the new characters from those brothers. She'd given the CIA false tracking numbers in order to keep the other operators occupied. It had worked, apparently.
"Sounds like a plan," Sang said as she grabbed her chair and slid it underneath the air vent.
"What are you doing?" Kenza asked as Sang climbed atop the chair and reached up to the her.
"If I'm going to join you guys, I want to shake on it," Sang said with a chuckle. Kenza began to try to back away, but was too slow. Sang grabbed the air vent and pulled on it hard, breaking it open. She reached into the vent then and managed to grab Kenza by the hair.
"Ouch, stop, you nutjob!" Kenza shouted as she tried to wrestle her head away from Sang, but Sang wasn't about to let go.
"Help! Help!" Sang shouted. The door to her room burst open as O'Hara came in with her gun drawn.
"There's someone in the air vents!" Sang said as she fell to the ground, holding a clump of bright blonde hair.
O'Hara drew her gun and ran up to the vent, shoving her arm in, still holding the pistol.
"Oh, God, don't shoot!" Kenza squeaked.
"I'm counting to three," O'Hara yelled.
"I'm coming out – please don't kill me," Kenza begged. Sang chuckled as she rubbed her shoulder, which had smacked against the ground when she had fallen. After a few moments of banging around inside of the vent, Kenza slowly climbed down from the ceiling.
"Alright, so what's going on?" O'Hara asked as she crossed her arms. "Is there any reason you were in that vent?'
"She's a Draco spy," Sang said. "She was trying to recruit me."
"She's crazy," Kenza said. "She offered me a thousand bucks to help her escape from this place."
O'Hara looked at Kenza and then back at Sang. "Well, you both have interesting and plausible stories, so I guess I'll have to solve this the old-fashioned way."
"Cancel that," Neil said as he staggered into Sang's room, holding his stomach. "Sang and I laid out the perfect trap."
"What, and I wasn't invited?" O'Hara asked.
"I thought you might have been the mole," Neil replied.
"Neil, you ass!" O'Hara said. "If I were the mole, I would have smothered Van in his sleep, slit Sang's throat, and then pulled the plug on you when you were in that coma."
"Not if your dark masters told you not to," Neil shot back.
"Oh, yeah, because we both know I have a track record of doing exactly what my superiors tell me to do," O'Hara said as she shook her head.
"Oh… right. Well, the good news is that I've cleared you from the investigation."
"I swear to God, as soon as you aren't on the verge of dying, I’m gonna kill you," O'Hara said to Neil as she grabbed Kenza roughly by the arm.
"Let me go!" Kenza shouted as she tried to wrestle free of the grasp.
"Look, kid, you're in a ton of trouble here," Sang said as she sat down on the bed. "You're going to be charged with treason for what you've done."
"Unless you agree to help us out," Neil said as he walked up to her and slowly sat on the chair across from her.
"Draco's going to win this thing. You guys don't stand a chance!" Kenza said. "You have no idea what they're capable of."
"What were your orders?" O'Hara demanded.
Kenza sighed and stopped struggling. She looked around and shook her head. "I know there's no chance of me getting out of this thing okay. I know that you'll torture me until I talk. I didn't want to be like this, you know. They approached me. Told me that, if I didn't help, my family wouldn't be spared. I got two kids, man."
"Oh, dear, I am so heartbroken for you," Neil said.
"I'll get the violin," O'Hara replied.
Kenza growled. "What do you want from me?"
"Orders. What were they?'
"Locate Van. That was it. Locate and report his location within the game to Draco," Kenza said. "But it doesn't matter at this point. We all got the same order yesterday morning. In roughly 24 hours, it's going to blow."
"What is?" Sang demanded.
"What do you think? Everything," Kenza answered. "If I'm not in a safehouse, I'm dead. Air's gonna be crazy toxic. Nuclear meltdowns, air strikes, automated drones set off. That guy who shot himself? He's not the only nutjob we've put effort into mobilizing."
"Why did you send him after us?" Sang asked.
Kenza shrugged. "I don't know. I just follow the orders I'm given. I was told to help him get into the base and then give him a gun. That was it."
"How did you falsify credentials like that?" Neil asked.
Kenza shook her head. "It wasn't hard, not with the state of chaos everyone has been in. Draco's got some deep pockets to fund these things."
"Are there any surprises waiting for us in the game?" Sang asked. Kenza opened her mouth for a moment, but said nothing.
"Ma'am, you've been so polite and easy to work with," Neil groaned as he wheezed a little. "I would really, really, hate for this conversation to turn into something ugly."
"I wouldn't hate it at all," O'Hara piped in. "I'm waiting for you to stop cooperating."
"Fine!" Kenza said as she crossed her arms. "Yes, there is something to watch out for in there. They're keeping a close eye on Bidane. Really close. They'll know where she's moving at all times."
"You mentioned that earlier," Sang said. "What are you hiding?"
"Do I need my kit?" O'Hara asked.
"No!" Kenza yelped. "They have the old man, the cop… they sent him a message before he logged off to switch characters. Told him that if he doesn't sabotage the mission, they'll send a hit team to kill Capello in the real world."
"Crap!" Sang shouted as she slammed her hand down on the bed. "That lying bastard!"
"Not quite," Neil said. "He hasn't ratted you guys out yet."
"Why didn't he mention it?" Sang asked.
"No idea," Ken
za said. "He never replied, but we registered that he did read the message."
"Any other surprises for us?" Sang asked with a long, heavy sigh.
"I don't know. They were communicating very steadily with me for a while, but lately I've just been getting short bursts of information from them," Kenza answered. Sang could see that tears were beginning to well up in her eyes.
"How long have you been working with them?" Neil asked.
"Long enough," she whispered. "I'm sorry."
"You're sorry you got caught," O'Hara said. "Not only are you a regular traitor, but you're also a race traitor. And not in the ethnic sense. You're a human race traitor."
"There will be some of us left," Kenza said. "And the wars will all be over. The fighting gone. Plagues, famine, suffering? All of it will be gone. How could I say no to that? Everyone dies eventually."
"They really got to you," Sang said as she shook her head. "How can you believe that?'
"It's not much different from what you did two weeks ago," Kenza said. "That's the real reason Draco's kept you alive so far."
"What are you talking about?" Sang asked as she felt her blood run cold.
"When you killed those players in the game? When you murdered a restrained man?" Kenza whispered. "You were trading the good of one person for the good of the collective. They liked that. It shows that you have hope of being like them."
"I didn't murder anyone," Sang replied as she shook her head. "That guy was gonna get free and kill me the moment he could. I'm not like Draco at all."
"So you say," Kenza said, "but at the end of the day, you'll do whatever it takes to protect the collective. The ends justify the means to you. How is that any different from us?"
"Shut up," Sang said as she stood up and walked away from Kenza. "Just shut the hell up."
"Those aren't my words," Kenza said. "It's the profile Draco sent us."
"Us?" Neil echoed.
"Crap!" Kenza exclaimed. Sheer panic came over her face for a moment, followed by an expression of inspiration. "I'll sell all of them out if it means I get out of this okay."
"Sang, you've got to get back into the field in the morning," O'Hara said as she wrenched Kenza off the bed and dragged her to the door. "Get some sleep. We'll take care of this."