Richard Alarie rose as the man approached his desk, hand reaching out to grasp hold of his counterpart’s in a firm grip which he shook once, then released.

“John, what brings you around here?”

“Business, unfortunately.”

“Ah, well…please take a seat,” he offered as he himself sat back down. “What seems to be the problem?”

“My employers have a delicate bit of business that needs to be dealt with. Preferably with as much finesse as possible.”

“Not to probe, but might this have anything to do with the fracas last night?”

“Possibly…it certainly exasperated the situation, but we’re still in the dark as to the particulars of the whys and hows of both that and this situation.”

“I see,” Richard replied.

Despite his outward appearance of being relaxed, he was on guard. It was unusual that a corporation the likes of which John worked for would deign to come to an outside agency to resolve any problem, let alone a sensitive one. Certainly, they practiced some elements that played into such stereotypes often depicted in films and other media, resorting to contacting less than legal elements to resolve certain situations in rare instances, but by-and-large, the weapon of choice for such bodies were normally binding contracts, fine print, and the court of law.

But, as the stereotype, such entities did find it convenient from time to time to call on the services of outside bodies for the sake of convenience or expediency, or, more importantly, when it was cheaper to do so. And, on even rarer occasions, they called upon legal outside help.

Which was where his company came in. Cheating spouses, runaway teens, low-level fraud; insignificant matters that more often than not merely needed the minimum effort of discretion, for the sake of image more than anything else. Still, this matter sounded, at least from what he could tell from the tone in which John spoke, far and above the usual fare, and the man across from him would not have come here if he had not proven both himself and his agency worthy of their trust.

Still, that was not a good thing. If things went wrong, it would be him and his that would be left out in the cold, not them.

“Due to the importance of this dilemma, I’ve been authorised to allow you special access to what information we have…”

Before John could continue, Richard held up a finger, then pressed an unseen button to the side of his desk. Though nothing visible occurred, a comprehensive set of countersurveillance measures then enacted—anti-spyware, both digital and electronic, came online, the window panes tinted, the little light still passing through them warping, too, to a small degree, and all three of the office’s doors then locking themselves with an intentionally audible click.

“John, before you go on, may I inquire as to why you are not calling upon more traditional services? I understand last night would limit your options, but surely there are still resources available to you? An internal one, at least?” Richard asked, the seriousness of the consequences should he take on whatever the man before him was about to task him with, let alone the ones possible should he fail said task, necessitating an extreme measure of caution on his part.

After last night’s…what did you call it? Fracas? Well, everyone seems to have deemed it a good time to take a vacation, even those not within the city at the time. As for our internal resources, they're dealing with the fallout of this whole mess, and providing protection should any of our competitors decide to take advantage of this situation.

“Ah, of course. But you must know that this agency relies not only on our reputation for being trustworthy to survive? We here also rely on remaining neutral on all matters, and just the sound of the type of business you might be proposing suggests that you would have us throw ourselves in with you and yours. I’m sure whatever you have to offer as recompense will be more than a small agency such as mine would normally earn, but whatever it may be will not make up for the…loss…”

John had extracted a thick set of papers from his coat pocket and placed it on the desk before him. Immediately taking them in hand, Richard read the offer to meet the requirements of professional etiquette but had all intention of once more refusing it. His business, like any other, chased after money, but not the type of money with such risk attached to it.

Richard’s brow furrowed in confusion. He looked up once towards John before continuing to read on.

The offer was indeed great, as he had suspected, but the requirements of the job?

“I don’t understand?”

The contract was both vague and precise, the nature of the job obscured to the point that the person who wrote it may not have even known what it was that they were drafting, conditions so simple and one sided—towards him—that the majority of them would be fulfilled upon merely signing his name on the dotted line. All without actually saying what it was that he would be doing, specifically, and, most important of all, completely absent of any fine print.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

No corporation would ever create something like what lay within his hands. A dream contract that, while hardly giving him the keys to the kingdom, would give him everything for practically nothing.

Which is why Richard did not trust it for a second.

“As you can see, there exists no detail as to exactly what you’ll be doing for us, Mr. Alarie, nor any oversight; any possible detriment to your reputation would be entirely due to an inability on your part to keep quiet about the particulars of this investigation.”

A declaration of trust in his ability followed by a strike to that ability, and his ego. Standard negotiating tactic. Richard knew it, and John knew that he knew it, so why…?

Richard noticed the John’s head ever slightly favouring his left for some reason.

‘Ah,’ he realised. Rumour had it that the corporations utilised advanced technologies. They were not supposed to, but when did that ever matter to them? Maybe they were being recorded as they spoke now?

If that were the case, then whoever was in charge must have obviously believed more in checkboxes than common sense, John not being the type to resort to such basic manoeuvres—the act of which would only serve to antagonise him and others. If not for their implementation, then simply for the insult conveyed by the employment of such a simple-minded scheme. Even children could come up with better tricks than whoever was holding John’s leash now.

Leaning back, Richard thought carefully about what to say next.

He was well within his right to refuse, of course, but the ego of those on top was rarely to be underestimated. People who were used to getting whatever they wanted rarely took being told no with any form of dignity.

He had seen it before—businesses shutdown, livelihoods destroyed, families devastated. Rarely ever directly, of course. No, there were just so many perfectly legal means to bring a person to their knees in civilised society that it was a wonder that anyone would ever resort to something as crass as murder.

“John, we are both aware of the nature of the people who employ you, yet here you are, bringing me an offer that would cost them more than they could possibly gain. The type of offer that would make someone feel like the one offering it isn’t worried about having to pay. So, you’ll understand my hesitancy in this matter, correct? Stereotypes are what they are for a reason, after all, and I can’t help but feel that this would be one of those cases best left alone.”

John nodded, but said nothing. Instead, he rose from his seat, then removed another set of papers from within his jacket and placed them on the desk next to the overly obliging offer.

Reading the new set of papers, Richard’s blood ran cold.

‘First carrot, then stick.’ Another basic tactic of negotiation.

“I see,” Richard eventually replied. The tone of his words saying more than the words themselves.

While he and John had never been friends, such things being anathema in their respective lines of work, they did have…had, to a certain extent, an understanding…perhaps even a modicum of respect for each other; but, whatever their relationship may have been, it was now, to say the very least, over.

“So, what is it that you really want me to do?” Richard asked as he slumped back into his chair, only then becoming aware that he had tensed up at all as his muscles then slackened.

He could already feel a headache coming on.

Both realising and accepting the loss of his connection with Richard and his agency, and apparently more than willing to accept that loss, John began, “Yes, well, to start off, we should address last night. Again, though we don’t think it was directly involved with our problem, we can say that there was some interference from it in part. So a …”

While the man began to waffle on, Richard thought to himself, ‘if I’m already in, I might as well go all in.’

“Last night was due to a series of vendettas coming to the boil. A group known as the Scarlotti’s or ‘lattes—something Italian—have been making waves recently, muscling out the smaller operations and such. Said operations then deciding in response to that muscling to unite and deal with said problem, thus leading to last night. Of course, once the fight turned in their favour, the knives came out, and some then decided to settle some older scores; then the tides turned again and they once more reunited. And things just escalated from there.”

“I…see,” John said as he absorbed Richard’s revelation.

“If it was these Scarletties that attacked you, then you probably were targeted, the majority—though not all, of the lesser operations already having been focused on securing their various holdings. If not, then I would say it was more than likely that whatever happened was either a moment of opportunity or a coincidence, and not related to last night’s activity,” Richard advised.

“…’mm, I don’t think so; though I can’t rule out what you’ve just told me, we are led to believe that one of ours was…involved.”

“Involved?”

“Hm,” John replied without explaining any further.

“And let me guess, this employee is no longer with you?”

The question was rhetorical, Richard half-rolling his eyes as he asked it, but he could not help but notice John’s jaw clench ever so slightly as he spoke.

“Correct; The man in question was the manager of one of our special think-tanks … or, to put it more simply, the head of a sales department that catered directly to our board.”

“Ah,” Richard said as he realised what John was getting at. Of all those employed by any corporation, it was the men and women within that division that always proved themselves the most prone to corruption. Overworked, hyper-focused on the acquisition of money, and in regular contact with outside influences, whether they were supplier or potential customer, the likelihood of turning on their own for a better deal was near common enough that you could toss a coin on the chances of them having already been working for someone else whenever you met one of them and be correct more often than not.

“Precisely. With everything that happened last night, I decided to conclude a months’ long investigation with a rather hasty decision. Not an incorrect one, mind you, but still…hasty. The man evaded all of our sensors—but for his skill in obfuscation, he was a poor liar, and…”

“Wait, wait, you’ve lost me there; What’s this about sensors?”

John waved him off, obviously keeping an inhouse secret, but hesitated a moment as he considered whether or not Richard’s coerced acceptance made him an outsider or not.

“May I take this active participation in this conversation as a sign of acceptance?” John inquired.

“Well, you’ve got me here by the short and curlies, John! What the hell else am I supposed to do?!”

John raised his hands in surrender, having no intention of rousing Richard’s ire more than he had already done.

“Well then, I believe we should consider Mr. Alarie fully onboard in regard to this case, the disclosure of all information pertinent to the matter at hand be made available to him?” John asked as he looked slightly to his left.

The way he talked, he sounded as if he were addressing someone else in the room.

Richard was once again left in confusion, his brow furrowing as he tried to discern the nature of the man’s sudden madness. Some might have concluded that he was using a communicator of some sort, but without hand? And in a room fully secured?

John then waited; for what, Richard could not say, but a moment later, the man gave a small nod of his head, then resumed talking.

“Mr. Alarie, Richard, you are aware of the rumours that my employers and those of their station delve into City-tech?”

Richard just separated and raised his hands into the air in frustration.

“Sure; me and every kid with a television.”

John looked down at his hands, then rubbed them clean of what Richard assumed was the discomfort of, for once, having to reveal classified information rather than ensure its concealment.

“Well, then it should come as little surprise that those rumours are true.”

“…but exaggerated,” Richard finished, quoting a line from one of the series he had once watched. A series the man across from him had apparently not seen, the look in his eyes cold and to the point.

“No. Not to sound cliché, but if anything, the public’s awareness would be modest, at best, the average person’s view on the matter lacking by far. The unspoken agreement between the upper echelons is that the full extent of what technology is capable of be kept from the public eye.”

Richard wanted to roll his eyes; all he would need to be the protagonist of some trashy cartoon show right now was a trench coat, the stub of a half-smoked cigar, and a robot dog.

‘Well, the coat’s on the rack and the Cubans in desk should suffice, but where would I get…’

“Richard? Please? Take this seriously.”

“Oh, c’mon, John?! You slap me with a carrot and stick then pull out this cloak & dagger nonsense, what am I supposed to do? Applaud?”

John did not smile at his question, and that caused Richards mocking half-smile to slip from his face as the seriousness of Richard’s words became clear.