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Black Fire [Sci-Fi Techno-Thriller]
85: When Fate Transfers Hands [Jayson]

85: When Fate Transfers Hands [Jayson]

Manila’s heat wall pressed around us as soon as we hit NAIA.

The first destination was Delta Reel. If Carlotta and Carl were telling the truth, we would force them to reveal it.

“I knew you wouldn’t kill us, man,” said Carl, rolling out the last word like he was smoking a joint. “Didn’t I say that?”

“They still could,” Carlotta snapped, eying us as she did so. She seemed out of place in our group, with her straight back and the paranoia evident across her face. Her shifting eyes. Her strain. If Andrei hadn’t taken her field agent pistol, she would have jumped at us.

It wasn’t just pulling her away from the Mindanao province that made her seem out of place, but the reality that she was a field agent at Delta Reel. She was an intern nonetheless, but she still appeared as youthful as we were.

And here I was, pushing a virtual social network to the masses that you needed to access through a vape drug. Oh, life can sure be interesting.

MULTO made quick work of one of the auto-cars parked at NAIA. It was a van, big enough for the six of us remaining. I searched the parking lot for Janice but didn’t find her. I wasn’t sure when I’d see her again, but I knew she’d be alright. She wouldn’t want me to worry about her.

“Jayson?” asked Shay, in the shotgun. “You alright?”

I thought I was. I thought I had been worse than this. We were all together again. Well, most of us.

Little did I know, back then, that was the best it was ever going to be.

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Delta Reel welcomed us, ironically, with open arms. We thought it was a trap. Who wouldn’t? When the staff of the streaming giant met us in their lobby, they were, quite literally, carrying trays of food, baskets of fruit, and warm towels.

And, of course, their field security agents.

There were five of them, a mix of men and women evidently trained in martial arts, firearms, and applied computer science. They looked like gym teachers mixed with desk workers. Jocks and nerds infused. They could have each taken us and thrown us into the basement of their headquarters, holding us there until they got what they wanted. It seemed, though, they were patient enough to receive our end of the deal: the code for Black Fire Online.

“SSD flash drives are the best way,” I had told the team before we left the Haven. “I have one, Andrei, Shay, and Reggie as well. We give the fifth to Delta Reel. Sound good?”

I was really only concerned with Reggie’s reaction. Back then, he had begrudgingly accepted. This energy had transferred to himself as he waited with us in Delta Reel’s lobby. The five security agents were arrayed before us like members of some military parley. We were vastly outnumbered, but we had what they wanted.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

We weren’t sure what to expect, up until the point an older man parted the walls of field agents and approached us. He looked out of place among our youth, his graying, stringy beard reminiscent of an older Pinoy. Sending this emissary may have been an intentional move by Delta Reel as if to say that we were all on the same side.

“Woah,” said Shay.

“What?” I asked.

“That’s Gregory Ocampo.” She spoke as if the room were empty. Everyone could hear her. “The Ops Head.”

It was short for Head of Operations, but we didn’t even need the explanation from the way the older man carried himself as he walked into our group. I felt I was watching Seskone ascend to Crystalline’s throne.

“Delta Reel is pleased to have you,” he said. “Don’t mind the precautions. We needed to ensure you were real. You can’t believe everything you read, even over secured channels.”

We had let Carl and Carlotta send a few messages back to the Delta Reel headquarters, and the paranoia Gregory Ocampo was referring to was not lost on us. Spoofing someone’s voice and face was easy in that day and age. In person, however? That was impossible.

Carl and Carlotta left our sides, and I had to admit, I felt a sense of loss at seeing them go. They were our prisoners, in a way, but they hadn’t tried to escape once and were the sole reason we were standing here, bartering with who I hoped were allies. If things with Delta Reel turned out well, I’d have to thank them later.

“Now,” Gregory went on, “the code.”

I shared a sharp intake of breath with Reggie. I turned to him. He held the extra copy of the Black Fire Online source code. Our nod to each other said it was finally time to relinquish it.

Do you know the feeling when you rescue an animal, knowing that you’ll inevitably have to send it back into the wild? Yeah, I don’t know the feeling either, but it must have been a lot like that. To Reggie, I knew it was something more profound, like watching your child graduate. We had created BFO from the ground up and would now surrender it to the world. We only hoped it would last.

“My friend, Reggie, will guide you through the demonstration,” I said. “It’s mostly his work.”

The little nod to Reggie’s credit, I hoped, instilled confidence in my friend. It was mostly true, too, but I couldn’t gauge my friend’s expression.

Reggie produced a vintage SSD drive from his jacket about the size of his palm. If you’d ever played the even older cartridge-based video game consoles that dotted the arcades and retro gaming restaurants, you’d know what I was talking about. The thing was a brick and could only be inserted in specialized peripheral readers. It was also a physical medium disconnected from the Internet. That meant it was completely secure.

And we were giving it away.

Gregory Ocampo strode forward and took the device. Reggie, to my surprise, let it go with ease.

“And where will you be?” Gregory asked me.

My friends knew what would happen next. This was their part of the operation, not mine. I had other things to do.

“Looking for something,” I said before surrendering my friends to Delta Reel.