Lawrence

Lawrence was used to angry looks from his co-workers but the people of Mitsurugi were on another level. Every single one of them looked ready to cut him open at a moment’s notice. And for what? Why was he to blame? He knew they didn’t exactly worship Lucideans but he thought they’d put at least some effort into disguising their contempt.

“With all due respect, I don’t feel too comfortable around these people, sir. I’m pretty sure they hate me,” said Lawrence.

Roland looked up from his laptop and smiled. “They just don’t know you yet, Larry.”

Councilman Kitagawa’s private quarters had been emptied to make room for Roland. The switch had been so last minute, Lawrence still found himself tripping over trinkets from the Councilman’s collection. Roland had been glued to his chair for the last four hours so he hardly took notice. If anything, he was grateful to the Council for being so accommodating.

“One would think a major global superpower would be able to afford a darn guest room now and then,” said Lawrence.

“Now, now, Larry. They’ve shown us plenty of hospitality. Let’s be good sports about it. Speaking of which, has the boy been captured?”

“Indeed, sir. The guards are bringing him to us as we speak.”

“Now, that’s what I like to hear. See what I’m talking about, Larry? Jolly cooperation gets results. And what about the other thing I told you to handle, what did he say?”

“On his way as well, sir. He should get here any moment-”

The door was forced open and they were greeted by the wrinkled visage of President Tim Norton of Lucidea. Every muscle on his face was tightened in smug satisfaction. Before the door could close on its own, Rob walked in behind him with a scowl that threatened to tear Roland to pieces. It was the same scowl he’d seen on Trent’s face.

From what he recalled, the two had been thick as thieves. If Rob were to find out about Caroline, it was only a matter of time until… No. It was too horrific to think even about.

Lawrence looked to his boss for comfort. Roland reassured him with a wink and rose to greet his guests.

“Timmy, old friend! How goes everything?” He said, outstretching his arms for a hug.

The President of Lucidea stepped back, letting Rob dangle a gun in Roland’s face. “That’s close enough, pal.”

“It’s good to see you too, Robert,” said Roland.

Rob grunted silently.

Norton gestured something and the grizzled man fell back dejectedly. Even leaning against the back wall, he peered at Roland with murderous intent.

“From what I understand, you have called me to negotiate.” Norton grinned, taking a seat.

“Sharp as ever, Timmy,” said Roland.

“I only wish you’d done it sooner. Could have saved you a bunch in property damage. How much is the final tally, eh?”

“I stopped counting after two hundred billion.”

“Two hundred billion dollars!” Norton exclaimed. “You could’ve put that towards charity. Done some good for the world.”

“Maybe,” said Roland. “But let’s not kid ourselves. You would’ve come for me, sooner or later.”

“No one escapes the Order’s justice, old friend. You should know that better than most.”

Roland took a deep breath and stared mockingly at his guest. Lawrence wondered where his boss got the courage. He’d love to borrow it sometime. It was somewhat difficult for him to not piss his pants in front of the most powerful person on the planet and his assassin. Not to mention, his frequent trips to the water cooler had done little to aid that effort.

Norton clasped his hands together and chuckled. “Let’s talk terms of surrender. You will withdraw from the elections, of course. That goes without saying. You will destroy every last bit of information you possess on the New World Order. You will step down as CEO of Blink and your shares in the company shall be considered a sizable donation toward my electoral campaign.”

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Mr. Roland licked his lips and said nothing.

“Accept your loss with dignity, old friend. Not much else you can do. Two of your servers are gone. Only a matter of time until this one falls as well. When that happens, I’m the only one standing between Trent Morningstar and a knife in your throat.”

“That much we can agree on,” said Roland. “However, it seems there has been a teeny tiny failure in communication. I called to negotiate your surrender, not mine.”

Mr. Norton looked like he’d heard a joke. He stared at Roland, then at Lawrence who looked away and gripped his tablet even tighter. And then, he looked back at Roland and laughed in his face. He laughed and laughed until his eyes became teary.

Rob was unamused and stood frowning with his arms crossed.

Norton rubbed his eyes, chuckled once again for good measure, and finally addressed Roland. “Feeling a bit kooky, are we, Justin? Why on Earth would I surrender to you?”

Mr. Roland clicked his tongue and sighed. “Oh, I don’t know, Timmy. I thought you’d have some interest in retaining your head.”

“Again, with your stupid riddles.” Norton spat. “Tell me plainly. What the fuck are you implying?”

“In your own time, Larry. We’ve got all day.”

At the signal, Lawrence walked over to Norton and presented him with his tablet. The President snatched it away and stared at him in bewilderment. Lawrence gestured for him to tap the file labeled ‘call log transcripts.’

“What in the name of God is this?” Norton asked.

“You’ve got a pair of eyes. You tell me, old friend.”

Norton scanned the document with a piercing gaze. For the longest time, his face was frozen while his eyeballs raced up and down the tablet, scrolling the files until he had perused their contents to his satisfaction. Once he was done, he set down the tablet and let out a deep sigh. Lawrence watched as his expression shifted from dismissive curiosity to unbridled horror.

Seeing his master in peril, Rob grabbed the tablet and went over the transcripts himself. His reaction was somewhat similar to the President's.

“Mr. Norton, my liege. This don’t look good,” he said, at last.

“Oh, he’s the smart one,” said Roland.

“How?” demanded Norton.

“Everyone uses a Blink phone, Timmy. Go figure.”

“This is a blatant invasion of privacy. If the people knew about this…”

“They know! God, it’s like talking to a five-year-old. Everybody knows that Blink listens in on all your conversations and they still click the big fat check mark at the end of the contract because guess what, Timmy? They don’t care. What are they gonna do? Switch over to a shittier brand?”

“Impossible. No, this is… You are a monster.”

Roland smirked. “Need one to fight one, old pal. Now, that we’ve laid out all our cards on the table, here’s how it’s actually gonna go: You can have your fireworks. I couldn’t care less. I will vacate Kazanagi alongside everyone else in the building. But after that, you will reign in your lapdog, call off the kill, and of course, withdraw your name from the elections. In return, I will pinkie promise not to tell on you. Deal?”

“You won’t get away with this…” Mr. Norton grumbled.

“Spoken like a true loser. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a press conference to attend. Need to give the media a cover story for all the trouble you’ve caused us. Be sure to check your mail. You’re getting a hefty bill from me. Come now, Larry, we need to get these people out of here.”

“And what about Clown Castle Protocol, sir?” Lawrence asked humbly.

“Ah, almost forgot about that. Let it proceed. It’s not like it matters anymore. Hey, Timmy, remember your first batch of test subjects?”

Mr. Norton looked at him in horror. “What did you just say?”

“Subject Zero is still alive. And it’ll be loose in the building in about…” He looked at his watch. “Forty minutes. Better hurry!”

Lawrence pressed a handful of buttons on his tablets which resulted in a beeping sound and a soft voice alerting them: ‘The Clown Castle Protocol has been activated’.

Mr. Norton got up to stare at Roland one last time. The big man had nothing but smiles for him. The President signaled Rob to follow. Once the duo had vacated the room and slammed the door behind them with as much anger as could be mustered, Lawrence let out the longest and deepest sigh of his life.

“I have never been more terrified in my life.”

“Are you serious? You were killing it out there, Larry.” Roland laughed. “I’m glad you decided to stick with me.”

Lawrence shook his head. “And about our deal, sir?”

“I’m a man of my word, Larry. Once we’re free of this nonsense, I promise, you’ll get what you want. Ah, never mind! There will be time for that later. Come on now. Let’s ditch this joint before all hell breaks loose.”

It is an often observed rule in nature that when a person believes they have gotten through the worst of what life can throw at them, nature decides to grab a steel pipe and beat them over the head with it while chanting, “Oh, you silly, silly child”. Experts have called this the Optimism Fallacy. While no clear scientific reason has been established behind this phenomenon, a large chunk of the population believes it to be nothing more than God having fun at their expense.

This was one of those instances.

Lawrence and his boss had barely finished packing up their devices when tragedy struck. Every single light in the Black Castle of Kazanagi shut down in an instant. The once-bright room was enveloped in a sea of black.

The two sat in place for a while, calmly assessing the situation when a soldier burst through the door. He held a flashlight in one hand and was panting as if he’d just run a marathon. “Sir, the boy… has escaped.”

“Never mind him. What happened to Subject Zero?” Roland demanded.

“The suppressors, they just died on us. It won’t be long before… that thing… Oh, Gods, this is the worst.”

“Calm down! Take a squadron, spread out, and tell everyone to vacate the castle. Make sure the Councilmen are accompanied. Bring me a team as well. And whatever happens, do not engage it. There’s no time to waste. Go!”

No sooner than the soldier left the room did Roland force himself to his feet. Despite his broken leg, he was able to walk using a stick. He grunted with pain, muttered something angrily, and slapped himself into thinking straight.

“What now, sir?” asked Lawrence.

“Now, we run, Larry.”