Soldier:parts 6-10
Chapter 6: To Chicago
Inside the room sat Linkin and Zinovia, bound and gagged. In front of them Ganondorf paced back and forth, pondering the situation. If they were telling the truth, then he had nothing to fear for letting them go. Of course, he had them in his grasp now; he could exact his revenge for all the times he had been wronged by them. But he knew they had friends who could make him regret it. Just killing them was tempting and would solve problems, but it just wasn’t worth the risk. If only he could insure that they were telling him the truth.
He glanced over at Cloud and jadept, both of whom wore their typical expressionless scowls, revealing no trace of emotion. They stood in the corner, watching carefully over his prisoners.
He really had no choice. There was too much risk and too little gain to killing them. He would have to let them go. If they were really telling him the truth, they would be out of his hair for quite a while, a definite plus. If they weren’t, he could have problems. But this could become a major incident if he killed them, and he couldn’t afford to incite any of his enemies without Tlozoot.
Tlozoot had been taken by Shadow as insurance that Ganondorf was telling the truth. That was what Ganondorf regretted the most from this ill-fated evening. If only there had been something he could have done about that. But Shadow was in control of the situation, what could he do? It would be okay in the end, if only he could trust Shadow. And even if Shadow was to be trusted, what if Funky didn’t have it anymore? What Shadow wanted with it was beyond Ganondorf. That little box must have had some secret to it, but what it was, Ganondorf couldn’t fathom.
He turned his attention back to the business at hand. “Alright, you can go, but next time I see any of you back here, you’re dead.”
Linkin was visibly relieved. “Thank you very much, you don’t know how much this means to me.”
“I didn’t do it for you!” Snapped back Ganondorf. “I have my own reasons.”
Just then Agent stepped in the room. “Sorry I had to take out your man Znights, I think he’ll be okay, though.”
Ganondorf grimaced in disgust. He motioned to Cloud and jadept. “Get them out of my sight.”
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Back at Max’s apartment, they were finally greeted with good news. Although there was no way that Ganondorf was involved, Max had turned up a lead. “It’s nothing positive, just a rumor, but it’s all I could find.”
“Well, what is it?” asked Linkin, impatiently.
“Well...” Max hesitated, uncertain about the authenticity of his information. “It nothing positive, but it might be linked to Charton. He’s a big-time crime lord in Chicago. Of course there are two problems. One, it’s questionable that Charton has enough influence here in Detroit to do this, two, why? He’s too big-time to pull a little job like this. It doesn’t make much sense, but it’s all I got.”
“We’ll have to try it,” said Linkin. “Why don’t we split up into two groups? Max, you and Agent can stay here and go to the pick-up point at 3 tomorrow.”
“Today,” interjected Max, “it’s after midnight.”
“Whatever,” continued Linkin dismissively. “You two go to the pick-up point and see if you can get whoever goes for the money and find out what you can. Me and Zinovia will go to Chicago and check up on Charton.”
Max opened his mouth to point out that Linkin should have said “Zinovia and I,” but thought better of it. Instead, he merely nodded his agreement along with the other two.
“Good,” said Linkin, “call my cell if you find anything.”
He and Zinovia turned to leave. “We’ll go back to my house first, I have to grab a few things.”
Little did Linkin know that outside his house sat a dark figure, prepared to do whatever it took to see that he did not get to the bottom of the kidnapping mystery
Chapter 7: A little box
“Chicago?” asked Zinovia, “we can’t make it to Chicago in time to do any good. That’s too far away.”
“It’s not too far. We have to try.” Replied Linkin.
Outside Linkin’s house, Wolf listened in horror. If they were going to Chicago, he couldn’t afford to wait until 3’o’clock. His cell phone rang, it was the man who had hired him.
“Sir, they’re going to Chicago.” Gasped Wolf.
“I know,” came the reply, “Identity is already on his way there. You have permission to attack early. Linkin is becoming more annoying than we bargained for. Eliminate him. We will find another for a out master plan if necessary.
“Sir, why send Identity to Chicago?” Questioned Wolf. “I will not fail.”
“See that you don’t,” and with a click, his employer hung up.
Wolf thought through his plans, and quickly came up with the easiest, most effective one; car bomb. The moment Linkin started his car, BOOM! He headed for Linkin’s garage.
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“A small black box, you say?” asked Funky. Shadow nodded. “And you say this box was... empty?” Again, shadow nodded. “And what would you want with an empty black box, what’s so important about it?”
Shadow ignored him. “Do you have the box or don’t you?”
“Now, see you want this box too much. It’s gonna cost you.”
“No, it’s going to cost you,” replied Shadow, smoothly pulling out his gun.
“Whoa, you don’t want to be doing that now. If you kill me you won’t get your box back. See, only I know where it is. Killing me will do you no good. It’s going to cost you $500 dollars, cash.”
“Fine,” Shadow turned to Gamefan, who was standing with the rest of his team behind him. “Pay him.”
Spritemaster was still holding their hostage, tlozoot, who was now conscious, but handcuffed. AKAkev was injured, but still present. The others stood in ominous silence.
Gamefan reached into the thin briefcase he was carrying, and pulled out five hundred dollars bills. He extended them towards Funky, but jerked them back when Funky extended his hand to take them. “First you tell us where the box is,” he grunted harshly.
Funky scribbled directions on a piece of paper, and handed them to Shadow. “Now may I have my money?”
“No, you come with us. As insurance.”
When they reached the old garage Funky led them to, he dug through a pile of old junk, and produced the box. “Now give me my money.”
“No,” replied Shadow. In one swift move he pulled his gun and put a bullet through Funky’s head. Gamefan picked up the box, and they left.
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Linkin moved quickly inside his house, picking up things he might need; his gun, some food, his cell phone, his pocket knife. He racked his mind to think of what else he might need. When nothing came to mind, he and Zinovia headed for the car.
The reached the garage. It was dark inside, and that was probably why Linkin didn’t see the small figure in the corner. Either that, or his concern for Murasaki overrode all else. For whatever reason, he didn’t notice Wolf crouching in the corner.
Linkin climbed in his small red convertible and pushed the key into the ignition.
“Chicago?” asked Zinovia, “we can’t make it to Chicago in time to do any good. That’s too far away.”
“It’s not too far. We have to try.” Replied Linkin.
Outside Linkin’s house, Wolf listened in horror. If they were going to Chicago, he couldn’t afford to wait until 3’o’clock. His cell phone rang, it was the man who had hired him.
“Sir, they’re going to Chicago.” Gasped Wolf.
“I know,” came the reply, “Identity is already on his way there. You have permission to attack early. Linkin is becoming more annoying than we bargained for. Eliminate him. We will find another for a out master plan if necessary.
“Sir, why send Identity to Chicago?” Questioned Wolf. “I will not fail.”
“See that you don’t,” and with a click, his employer hung up.
Wolf thought through his plans, and quickly came up with the easiest, most effective one; car bomb. The moment Linkin started his car, BOOM! He headed for Linkin’s garage.
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“A small black box, you say?” asked Funky. Shadow nodded. “And you say this box was... empty?” Again, shadow nodded. “And what would you want with an empty black box, what’s so important about it?”
Shadow ignored him. “Do you have the box or don’t you?”
“Now, see you want this box too much. It’s gonna cost you.”
“No, it’s going to cost you,” replied Shadow, smoothly pulling out his gun.
“Whoa, you don’t want to be doing that now. If you kill me you won’t get your box back. See, only I know where it is. Killing me will do you no good. It’s going to cost you $500 dollars, cash.”
“Fine,” Shadow turned to Gamefan, who was standing with the rest of his team behind him. “Pay him.”
Spritemaster was still holding their hostage, tlozoot, who was now conscious, but handcuffed. AKAkev was injured, but still present. The others stood in ominous silence.
Gamefan reached into the thin briefcase he was carrying, and pulled out five hundred dollars bills. He extended them towards Funky, but jerked them back when Funky extended his hand to take them. “First you tell us where the box is,” he grunted harshly.
Funky scribbled directions on a piece of paper, and handed them to Shadow. “Now may I have my money?”
“No, you come with us. As insurance.”
When they reached the old garage Funky led them to, he dug through a pile of old junk, and produced the box. “Now give me my money.”
“No,” replied Shadow. In one swift move he pulled his gun and put a bullet through Funky’s head. Gamefan picked up the box, and they left.
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Linkin moved quickly inside his house, picking up things he might need; his gun, some food, his cell phone, his pocket knife. He racked his mind to think of what else he might need. When nothing came to mind, he and Zinovia headed for the car.
The reached the garage. It was dark inside, and that was probably why Linkin didn’t see the small figure in the corner. Either that, or his concern for Murasaki overrode all else. For whatever reason, he didn’t notice Wolf crouching in the corner.
Linkin climbed in his small red convertible and pushed the key into the ignition.
Chapter 8: To Chicago
“Wait,” exclaimed Zinovia, “I forgot my purse!” Linkin sighed, exasperated at the delay, but waited in the car as she left, letting his hand slip from the key still resting in the ignition to his leg. She was only in the house a minute, and she walked back towards the car quickly, but still dignified. Not at all like a man, who would sprint back and forth; women always are more reserved with all their motions.
Linkin lifted his hand back to the key when Zinovia screamed. He jumped and looked over at her. She was staring into the corner of the garage. He turned his head and squinted into the darkness. Slowly he managed to make out a figure crouched in the corner. Then to his horror, he realized that the figure had a gun pointed at his head.
Linkin ducked down as Wolf squeezed the trigger, planting a bullet in the seat behind where Linkin had been just moments before.
Crunched down low in the car seat, Linkin’s mind raced frantically. Reaching over to his left, he pulled down on the car handle, and gave the door a gentle push. It slid open, banging against the side of his garage. Linkin pushed against the passenger seat and rolled out the open door, sheltered by it from the gunman in the corner.
He scrambled to his knees and glanced up to see Wolf, looming over him with his gun pointed down. “Impressive,” said Wolf, “But now you die.”
A rather large brown object came hurtling through the air, knocking Wolf backwards. Without looking back, Linkin shot up, landing a solid right across Wolf’s jaw and grappling for the gun. He wrestled it from Wolf’s hands, and ignoring his pitiful begging for mercy shot him through the neck. Wolf’s limp body collapsed silently to the floor of the garage.
Zinovia crossed the garage and picked up her purse from the floor, unfazed by the dead body. Then she gasped. Linkin was in the car, about to start it up. “Wait,” cried Zinovia. Come look at this. Wolf’s fingers were smudged with oil and grime. “He might have been messing with your engine. Maybe we should look under the hood.
Pulling out a flashlight, Linkin raised the hood and stared at his engine. Sticking out in plain view was an object that had not been there before.
Although Linkin was no expert on bombs, he was able to diffuse it before leaving on the garage floor was leaving.
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While on the road, Zinovia called up Max and told him about the man in their garage.
“So, the plot thickens,” chuckled Max. He always was one for cliché sayings. “I don’t know what’s going on with that, but I would guess that whoever kidnapped Murasaki also sent the assassin. The real question is why...” He drifted off in thought for a moment, and Zinovia changed the subject.
“What do we do once we get to Chicago?”
“Oh yes, I forgot to tell you. I have a couple friends, their names are Mario and Butter, they are professors at a local university. I can direct you to their house once you get to Chicago. I’ve already contacted them, and they agreed to help you. They know the area, so should be a great asset. I called in a couple favors and arranged for the four of you to meet with one of the big shots from around there. His name is Bahamut. If anyone can help you find Charton, it’s him. Go to Mario and Butter’s house first. They’ll brief you and take you to see Bahamut.”
“Okay, thanks,” responded Zinovia. “Make sure to call if anything happens.”
“Alright, you to,” replied Max. “Good luck, and may the force be with you.”
Zinovia sighed as she hung up the phone. Typical Max. But he had given them contacts in Chicago. Perhaps they had a chance after all.
“Wait,” exclaimed Zinovia, “I forgot my purse!” Linkin sighed, exasperated at the delay, but waited in the car as she left, letting his hand slip from the key still resting in the ignition to his leg. She was only in the house a minute, and she walked back towards the car quickly, but still dignified. Not at all like a man, who would sprint back and forth; women always are more reserved with all their motions.
Linkin lifted his hand back to the key when Zinovia screamed. He jumped and looked over at her. She was staring into the corner of the garage. He turned his head and squinted into the darkness. Slowly he managed to make out a figure crouched in the corner. Then to his horror, he realized that the figure had a gun pointed at his head.
Linkin ducked down as Wolf squeezed the trigger, planting a bullet in the seat behind where Linkin had been just moments before.
Crunched down low in the car seat, Linkin’s mind raced frantically. Reaching over to his left, he pulled down on the car handle, and gave the door a gentle push. It slid open, banging against the side of his garage. Linkin pushed against the passenger seat and rolled out the open door, sheltered by it from the gunman in the corner.
He scrambled to his knees and glanced up to see Wolf, looming over him with his gun pointed down. “Impressive,” said Wolf, “But now you die.”
A rather large brown object came hurtling through the air, knocking Wolf backwards. Without looking back, Linkin shot up, landing a solid right across Wolf’s jaw and grappling for the gun. He wrestled it from Wolf’s hands, and ignoring his pitiful begging for mercy shot him through the neck. Wolf’s limp body collapsed silently to the floor of the garage.
Zinovia crossed the garage and picked up her purse from the floor, unfazed by the dead body. Then she gasped. Linkin was in the car, about to start it up. “Wait,” cried Zinovia. Come look at this. Wolf’s fingers were smudged with oil and grime. “He might have been messing with your engine. Maybe we should look under the hood.
Pulling out a flashlight, Linkin raised the hood and stared at his engine. Sticking out in plain view was an object that had not been there before.
Although Linkin was no expert on bombs, he was able to diffuse it before leaving on the garage floor was leaving.
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While on the road, Zinovia called up Max and told him about the man in their garage.
“So, the plot thickens,” chuckled Max. He always was one for cliché sayings. “I don’t know what’s going on with that, but I would guess that whoever kidnapped Murasaki also sent the assassin. The real question is why...” He drifted off in thought for a moment, and Zinovia changed the subject.
“What do we do once we get to Chicago?”
“Oh yes, I forgot to tell you. I have a couple friends, their names are Mario and Butter, they are professors at a local university. I can direct you to their house once you get to Chicago. I’ve already contacted them, and they agreed to help you. They know the area, so should be a great asset. I called in a couple favors and arranged for the four of you to meet with one of the big shots from around there. His name is Bahamut. If anyone can help you find Charton, it’s him. Go to Mario and Butter’s house first. They’ll brief you and take you to see Bahamut.”
“Okay, thanks,” responded Zinovia. “Make sure to call if anything happens.”
“Alright, you to,” replied Max. “Good luck, and may the force be with you.”
Zinovia sighed as she hung up the phone. Typical Max. But he had given them contacts in Chicago. Perhaps they had a chance after all.
Chapter 9: Mario and Butter
Identity stepped off the plane, and breathed the harsh Chicago air. It was the same as Detroit air, full of smog and car exhaust. He inhaled deeply, drinking in the filth. It seemed so familiar to him.
He claimed his bags and headed for the exit, walking straight past an elderly woman struggling to pull her bags along. Identity had all the time in the world to help her. He had nothing to do for hours. But he enjoyed watching her struggles. He even stopped for a moment to watch her. Although he received dirty looks from several other passengers as they hurried by, he ignored them. As he turned to leave, he headed closer to her so as to accidentally bump into her. He reached security several minutes later. It was pitiful how easy it was to sneak weapons on a plane in spite of the heightened security. Identity chuckled under his breath in his disgust of the United States. What a pitiful country, and so arrogant.
He shook his head to clear his mind as he walked across the street, thinking about his course of action. He still needed to wait until 3’o’clock to strike. Catching a taxi, Identity went looking for a hotel room to wait in.
He considered the situation while in the taxi. He had heard what happened to Wolf. A sad loss, but only to be expected. Wolf never had been able to perform as well as Identity. Of course this Linkin wasn’t going to be at all easy. Although Identity had never felt truly challenged by his line of work. He had always found killing people easy. That was what he really enjoyed about it. That and watching the look in their eyes in that last second when they realized they were going to die. It was the one satisfaction in life that never seemed to lessen, no matter how many times he enjoyed it.
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Identity stepped off the plane, and breathed the harsh Chicago air. It was the same as Detroit air, full of smog and car exhaust. He inhaled deeply, drinking in the filth. It seemed so familiar to him.
He claimed his bags and headed for the exit, walking straight past an elderly woman struggling to pull her bags along. Identity had all the time in the world to help her. He had nothing to do for hours. But he enjoyed watching her struggles. He even stopped for a moment to watch her. Although he received dirty looks from several other passengers as they hurried by, he ignored them. As he turned to leave, he headed closer to her so as to accidentally bump into her. He reached security several minutes later. It was pitiful how easy it was to sneak weapons on a plane in spite of the heightened security. Identity chuckled under his breath in his disgust of the United States. What a pitiful country, and so arrogant.
He shook his head to clear his mind as he walked across the street, thinking about his course of action. He still needed to wait until 3’o’clock to strike. Catching a taxi, Identity went looking for a hotel room to wait in.
He considered the situation while in the taxi. He had heard what happened to Wolf. A sad loss, but only to be expected. Wolf never had been able to perform as well as Identity. Of course this Linkin wasn’t going to be at all easy. Although Identity had never felt truly challenged by his line of work. He had always found killing people easy. That was what he really enjoyed about it. That and watching the look in their eyes in that last second when they realized they were going to die. It was the one satisfaction in life that never seemed to lessen, no matter how many times he enjoyed it.
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With Max’s help, Linkin and Zinovia were able to locate Mario and Butter’s house with little difficulty. They parked the car on the street, dark and quiet at 2 in the morning – the time change was an amazing thing; since Detroit was in Eastern Time and Chicago was in Central, they had arrived at the end of their three hour trip only two hours later than they had left.
Mario was at the door quickly after they knocked, fully clothed. He was a tall skinny man with a bushy mustache. “Linkin?” He asked. Linkin nodded, and Mario motioned them inside. “m6514309 told us you were coming. Come in.” It took Linkin a moment to recognize the use of Max’s computer alias instead of his real name. It was impressive that they could remember that string of numbers, but it was to be expected that since his real identity was a mystery to all but a select few that his contacts would know him only by his screen name.
He and Zinovia came inside, where a blond women – presumably Butter – was seated on a comfortable looking leather couch in a cute pink bathrobe with her feet pulled up underneath her. It was a very cozy looking home, and Mario and Butter looked like a happy couple.
She smiled at Linkin as he came in, standing up to offer him a cup of coffee, which he politely declined. He was more than awake enough from the tension of the night. “M numbers told us a little, but I think you should fill us in on the details of your story, and then you two can grab some sleep before we meet with Bahamut tomorrow morning. You probably need it.”
The hours wore on as they talked. Mario and Butter were nice, happy people. They had met online a year ago. Mario had been one of Max’s hacker buddies back in the day when they had first hacked the top secret files from the pentagon and started selling them on the black market. Mario had quit crime with Max when one of the other hackers involved had been arrested, which, luckily for Max coincided with his meeting of Butter. She was quite a computer geek; albeit a legal one. They made quite a great couple, and seemed very happy together. In the computer world, they worked together well as a wonderful legit team whose combined prowess could only be rivaled by Max, the best of the best.
Coincidentally, Mario had quite a claim to fame, something that could almost put him on a par with Max. He was one of the original hackers responsible for the now widespread 1337 code. In Mario’s words “I was the first u83r-h4><0r.” Although Linkin’s computer knowledge was limited, he was familiar with 1337 through his associations with Max, and laugh along with Mario and Butter as Zinovia looked on quizzically.
Once Mario and Butter had finished, Mario looked at Linkin, “so, tell us your story. What’s going on?”
Linkin related the whole tale to them. They seemed very sympathetic, sharing his pain. He felt better for talking about his problems, and when he was finished, Mario rested a consoling arm on his shoulder, and Butter promised that they would offer whatever help they could.
After they had one more cookie each, Butter insisted, they headed to bed, Linkin feeling much better and looking forward to a little rest before he had to continue with his tiring efforts, Zinovia still dubious, but convinced that they could make progress in the morning.
Their meeting was set at 7:00 the next morning, the earliest Max could get them in. Linkin’s last thought before drifting off to sleep was to hope that it wouldn’t be too late.
Mario was at the door quickly after they knocked, fully clothed. He was a tall skinny man with a bushy mustache. “Linkin?” He asked. Linkin nodded, and Mario motioned them inside. “m6514309 told us you were coming. Come in.” It took Linkin a moment to recognize the use of Max’s computer alias instead of his real name. It was impressive that they could remember that string of numbers, but it was to be expected that since his real identity was a mystery to all but a select few that his contacts would know him only by his screen name.
He and Zinovia came inside, where a blond women – presumably Butter – was seated on a comfortable looking leather couch in a cute pink bathrobe with her feet pulled up underneath her. It was a very cozy looking home, and Mario and Butter looked like a happy couple.
She smiled at Linkin as he came in, standing up to offer him a cup of coffee, which he politely declined. He was more than awake enough from the tension of the night. “M numbers told us a little, but I think you should fill us in on the details of your story, and then you two can grab some sleep before we meet with Bahamut tomorrow morning. You probably need it.”
The hours wore on as they talked. Mario and Butter were nice, happy people. They had met online a year ago. Mario had been one of Max’s hacker buddies back in the day when they had first hacked the top secret files from the pentagon and started selling them on the black market. Mario had quit crime with Max when one of the other hackers involved had been arrested, which, luckily for Max coincided with his meeting of Butter. She was quite a computer geek; albeit a legal one. They made quite a great couple, and seemed very happy together. In the computer world, they worked together well as a wonderful legit team whose combined prowess could only be rivaled by Max, the best of the best.
Coincidentally, Mario had quite a claim to fame, something that could almost put him on a par with Max. He was one of the original hackers responsible for the now widespread 1337 code. In Mario’s words “I was the first u83r-h4><0r.” Although Linkin’s computer knowledge was limited, he was familiar with 1337 through his associations with Max, and laugh along with Mario and Butter as Zinovia looked on quizzically.
Once Mario and Butter had finished, Mario looked at Linkin, “so, tell us your story. What’s going on?”
Linkin related the whole tale to them. They seemed very sympathetic, sharing his pain. He felt better for talking about his problems, and when he was finished, Mario rested a consoling arm on his shoulder, and Butter promised that they would offer whatever help they could.
After they had one more cookie each, Butter insisted, they headed to bed, Linkin feeling much better and looking forward to a little rest before he had to continue with his tiring efforts, Zinovia still dubious, but convinced that they could make progress in the morning.
Their meeting was set at 7:00 the next morning, the earliest Max could get them in. Linkin’s last thought before drifting off to sleep was to hope that it wouldn’t be too late.
Chapter 10: Bahamut
Around the large table sat Lordofthefarm, Whiteout, Silver Knux and Charton. All was silent until Whiteout spoke. “I don’t like it. It’s too risky.”
“You speak of risk?” snapped back Charton. “Who is sticking their neck on the line for this fool plan of a man that we’ve never seen?”
A quiet yet commanding voice came from the back of the room. It was Lordofthefarm. “He’s never led us wrong before. I will agree with you that it is a very risky plan, but think of the rewards; and our leader has given us no reason not to trust him.”
“He has a point,” concurred Silver Knux, “I think we should follow the plan.”
Whiteout nodded his agreement, but Charton was still not convinced. “Why should we trust him if he won’t show us his face?”
Again Lordofthefarm had the answer. “He has his own reasons. The moment he lets us down, I will agree with all of you and fight against him, but until then, this is a great chance for all four of us.”
Charton was still doubtful. “I am the one shouldering the most risk here. I didn’t know how dangerous this Linkin was when we started all this. He already took out one assassin sent against him. None of you are taking the risks that I am.”
“We are all doing our part,” said Silver Knux decisively. “We will await further orders.”
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“Good morning,” said Bahamut. “What can I do for you?” He was a well dressed man, short and a little overweight. But not to the point of being ugly. He had a certain eternal ageless quality about him.
Linkin was brief and to the point. “We need to find Charton.”
“And why would you want to do that?”
Linkin paused for only a moment, considering how far he could afford to tip his hand. “He kidnapped my girlfriend.”
“Ah, I see,” replied Bahamut calmly. “But the important thing is how badly you need to see Charton.” Linkin opened his mouth to respond, but Bahamut continued, cutting him off. “You see, if I were to help you locate Charton, and he found out about it, he wouldn’t be too happy. There’s no set upsetting someone as powerful as Charton for no reason. You see?”
“But we have a reason!” Exclaimed Linkin.
Mario motioned to him not to lose his temper. “He means a reason for him.” He turned to Bahamut. “We have little money, but we do have some skills that could be of assistance to you.”
Bahamut raised one eyebrow. “And what would those be?”
Mario glanced quickly at Butter before answering. “Me and my girlfriend, Butter are hackers. We could be of considerable use to you in the cyber-world.”
Bahamut shook his head. “I don’t need any hackers. My business is completely legit and no one can hack my files, since I keep them on a special computer unconnected to the internet. I don’t need to do anything involving computers beyond accounting, and I already have several qualified and trusted accountants.” He paused for a moment, considering. “I’ll tell you what, though, perhaps we can work something out. I’ll make some calls to some friends. Perhaps they can make use of your services and compensate me for the risk. You may wait in the lobby.”
“Thank you,” said Butter, but Bahamut had already turned away.
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Around the large table sat Lordofthefarm, Whiteout, Silver Knux and Charton. All was silent until Whiteout spoke. “I don’t like it. It’s too risky.”
“You speak of risk?” snapped back Charton. “Who is sticking their neck on the line for this fool plan of a man that we’ve never seen?”
A quiet yet commanding voice came from the back of the room. It was Lordofthefarm. “He’s never led us wrong before. I will agree with you that it is a very risky plan, but think of the rewards; and our leader has given us no reason not to trust him.”
“He has a point,” concurred Silver Knux, “I think we should follow the plan.”
Whiteout nodded his agreement, but Charton was still not convinced. “Why should we trust him if he won’t show us his face?”
Again Lordofthefarm had the answer. “He has his own reasons. The moment he lets us down, I will agree with all of you and fight against him, but until then, this is a great chance for all four of us.”
Charton was still doubtful. “I am the one shouldering the most risk here. I didn’t know how dangerous this Linkin was when we started all this. He already took out one assassin sent against him. None of you are taking the risks that I am.”
“We are all doing our part,” said Silver Knux decisively. “We will await further orders.”
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“Good morning,” said Bahamut. “What can I do for you?” He was a well dressed man, short and a little overweight. But not to the point of being ugly. He had a certain eternal ageless quality about him.
Linkin was brief and to the point. “We need to find Charton.”
“And why would you want to do that?”
Linkin paused for only a moment, considering how far he could afford to tip his hand. “He kidnapped my girlfriend.”
“Ah, I see,” replied Bahamut calmly. “But the important thing is how badly you need to see Charton.” Linkin opened his mouth to respond, but Bahamut continued, cutting him off. “You see, if I were to help you locate Charton, and he found out about it, he wouldn’t be too happy. There’s no set upsetting someone as powerful as Charton for no reason. You see?”
“But we have a reason!” Exclaimed Linkin.
Mario motioned to him not to lose his temper. “He means a reason for him.” He turned to Bahamut. “We have little money, but we do have some skills that could be of assistance to you.”
Bahamut raised one eyebrow. “And what would those be?”
Mario glanced quickly at Butter before answering. “Me and my girlfriend, Butter are hackers. We could be of considerable use to you in the cyber-world.”
Bahamut shook his head. “I don’t need any hackers. My business is completely legit and no one can hack my files, since I keep them on a special computer unconnected to the internet. I don’t need to do anything involving computers beyond accounting, and I already have several qualified and trusted accountants.” He paused for a moment, considering. “I’ll tell you what, though, perhaps we can work something out. I’ll make some calls to some friends. Perhaps they can make use of your services and compensate me for the risk. You may wait in the lobby.”
“Thank you,” said Butter, but Bahamut had already turned away.
----------------------
Out in the lobby, Linkin paced back and forth restlessly. Zinovia sat in a corner, silent, brooding. Mario held Butter’s hand softly. They had nothing to do but wait and see if Bahamut could help them. Linkin’s mind searched frantically for other alternatives, should this hope turn up empty. He found none.
Although they waited only a couple minutes, it seemed like hours before Bahamut came out.
Instantly they all looked at him, Zinovia jumping to her feet. All sat in eager anticipation.
Bahamut let the anticipation build for several moments before unveiling his news. “My friend Lord of Light, he’s another local wealthy businessman,” he added, remembering that not all of his listeners were from the area. “Has had some problems with Charton and would like him eliminated. He also requires the service of a good hacker. He specifically requested you,” he gestured at Mario. “He has agreed to pay me a substantial amount for my assistance in helping you find Charton in exchange for your services. Do we have a deal?”
“Why Mario?” Asked Butter.
“I don’t know, he didn’t say. It’s not polite to question such things. Perhaps women make him nervous. Consider yourselves lucky. You get the reward for half the work.”
Linkin looked at Mario and Butter to see that they accepted the terms before turning his gaze back to Bahamut. “Alright. We agree to your terms.”
“Good,” responded Bahamut. “Here’s what you need to do to see Charton: There is a casino downtown at 2255 Iwo Jima street, Leinad’s Casino. It is really a front for Charton’s organization. It is a members only club, but I can get you in tonight.”
“Tonight is too late!” Yelled Linkin in frustration.
“I’m sorry. It doesn’t open until 7:00 at night, and there’s no other way to see Charton. You’ll have to wait.”
Although they waited only a couple minutes, it seemed like hours before Bahamut came out.
Instantly they all looked at him, Zinovia jumping to her feet. All sat in eager anticipation.
Bahamut let the anticipation build for several moments before unveiling his news. “My friend Lord of Light, he’s another local wealthy businessman,” he added, remembering that not all of his listeners were from the area. “Has had some problems with Charton and would like him eliminated. He also requires the service of a good hacker. He specifically requested you,” he gestured at Mario. “He has agreed to pay me a substantial amount for my assistance in helping you find Charton in exchange for your services. Do we have a deal?”
“Why Mario?” Asked Butter.
“I don’t know, he didn’t say. It’s not polite to question such things. Perhaps women make him nervous. Consider yourselves lucky. You get the reward for half the work.”
Linkin looked at Mario and Butter to see that they accepted the terms before turning his gaze back to Bahamut. “Alright. We agree to your terms.”
“Good,” responded Bahamut. “Here’s what you need to do to see Charton: There is a casino downtown at 2255 Iwo Jima street, Leinad’s Casino. It is really a front for Charton’s organization. It is a members only club, but I can get you in tonight.”
“Tonight is too late!” Yelled Linkin in frustration.
“I’m sorry. It doesn’t open until 7:00 at night, and there’s no other way to see Charton. You’ll have to wait.”
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