Chapter 2

A Chapter by Rapterj

Houses of Cards

Months? Years? Days? Weeks? Who knew. Jared Fairbanks had lost track of the time that he had spent wasting away in his research lab. Day in and day out, he came in, stared at his computer screen for close to ten hours, then left. While he was there, he had to endure the droning of the plasma TV that was permanently tuned to a twenty-four-hour news channel. Right now, the droning had become slightly more interesting as it was going on about a shooting and a riot, but it was usually focused on the government’s ridiculous tax spending.

Jared couldn’t ever find any room to complain about the government’s spending. After all, he was under a government salary. In fact, most people employed were paid by the government. So it didn’t bother him that he paid a lot of taxes �" because it meant that he was still employed. People didn’t have much room to complain. But somehow, the people in that Citizen movement thought they did. The news reporter had started relating the riots to the government spending, and Jared lost interest again. He turned back to his computer and stared at a massive list of access records to a classified system. For the millions of individual access records he had read so far, he was pretty sure there hadn’t been a single valid attack on the network. Ever since the depression, hackers seemed to have fallen by the way side. Cyber crime was just too expensive. Especially for the rest of the world. Even rival nations, who had been at the forefront of the hacking industry, had fallen off after the depression they went through. People had to pay for food before they bought a new computer. And then getting a computer became a problem, since every computer outsourced their industry. When the foreign powers went into depression, they didn’t get back up so quick. In fact, most of those countries were still in a form of pure havoc. As a result, computers weren’t being made as quickly. And the government got their priorities in first. So everyday people were shuffled along to wait for weeks, months, or even years for their next PC.

As the droning TV continued on the wall, Jared began to slip into his midday stupor. He eyes began to droop, and he longed for the good old days he spent back at the academy. And, as it usually did, his mind started to make fun of his life. Everything he had done in his life, had brought him here: reading a useless tome of access logs. Yay. At this point of the day, Jared hated his life. Everything about it. Jared was spared another hour of self-hatred by his desk phone ringing him out of his zone.

“Lab, Jared speaking.”

“Jared, it’s Max. Can you spare a little time?” Came a hushed voice on the other end of the line.

“Sure thing, buddy. What do you need? Another wingman for tonight?”

“No, no. You know I never ask you to get involved �" but this time I just think I’m gonna need some help. So its work related.”

“Max �" I �"uh �" well…you’re work…”

“Jared. I just need some background research. Get on your happy little government network and do some searching for me. I want to know everything they have about a Real Estate Broker named Colleen Brackett.”

“Max �" that’s kind of illegal.” Jared whispered through the phone in a hushed tone. “Despite the fact I have the ability to do this �" I mean �" I don’t have need-to-know. This is a federal offense buddy. A real estate broker �" talk about poking a snake in the eye. Its like begging for someone to track me down. Its even worse, since I review the access logs. What are you trying to get me into…? If I get caught �" its more than my job on the line.”

“I don’t have the time to explain, but something about this latest job is bothering me. I know what I was told �" but I want to know what I wasn’t told.”

“You don’t sound so good, Max. What’s wrong?”

“Ever get the feeling you were being set up for something bad?” Max asked in a worried tone.

“I’ll look into it for you buddy. Hey �" hang in there.”

“Yeah…also tell me what you find about an agent named Jacobian Drake.”

“Alright Max. I’ll let you know what I can unearth. But between your suspicions and the way things are in the world right now �" you know I’m not gonna find good news.”

“That’s what worries me, Jared.”

“Yeah…”

“Hey �" on a more positive note �" you hear anything back from the field office? I know you put in for the field op job �" do you know if you got it yet?”

“Nothing yet �" they said I should hear later this week.”

“Well I gotta get going, good luck to ya buddy.”

“Hey, thanks �" and watch your back, Max.”

Click.

Jared hung up the phone and sighed into his hands. Somehow, he was almost wishing he was back to hating his boring life.

*-*-*

Tick. Tock.

The wristwatch dial kept moving ever so slowly. The gong of each passing second was echoing even louder. And with each second, Frances Thorpe was more and more agitated. He was sitting in a comfortable looking, leather, swiveling, office chair. His hands were nervously resting on his lap, and his legs were shaking out his nervous energy that was boiling from the shiny tips of his dress shoes all the way to the top of his perfectly combed blonde hair.

Tick. Tock.

What had felt like days, had only been a couple of hours. When was everything going to happen? When would it start? The pieces were in place. The players were moving. Why hadn’t anything happened yet?

Tick. Tock.

Frances peeled his eyes from his nervously shaking wristwatch to look down at his waist and flip open his cell phone. No calls. Frances flipped the phone closed and took a deep breath as he put his hands over his mouth and closed his eyes. Soon. It was all going to happen soon.

As he removed his hands, he looked around the bare concrete room he was waiting in. There were no windows, only one cheap desk and his chair, a solitary door that was made of steel, and one small vent on the bottom of the door. There was also a tiny AC duct in concrete ceiling. It was definitely the worst place to be waiting.

Frances shifted uneasily in his chair. Were the pieces in play the way he needed them to be? He kept going over everything in his mind. He had set it up exactly the way it should be going. The girl, the catch, the chase �" everything. It was working flawless, until he had to go underground. He knew that it would only be a matter of time before he was at risk, but he wished he could’ve watched it all unfold. Instead, one variable �" that had been accounted for �" had entered the equation, and Frances went underground. It didn’t have to be for long �" but long enough so that confusion was given the chance it needed to bring disarray into chaos. Without him around, they would have to follow the only other lead they had. And it led to only one end.

Frances smiled to himself. Somehow he felt like a god. It had been him. Behind the scenes since the whole thing got started. He was manipulating everything in the system like a chess player moving pawns. They all had followed everything perfectly. And he played them right into the enemy’s hands. And when they even suspected it might be him, it was too late. He disappeared from the radar and they could only be left to assume that he was giving them all the right information �" because he disappeared. Of course, they could suspect otherwise, but he was willing to bet his life that they were much to rash and desperate to do that. He knew the system too well.

As Frances thought about what he had done, he realized how much one person could do. It would be the actions of a handful of people that would determine the future of an entire nation. And if all of those people could be manipulated �" one man could change the world. Frances smiled at the thought. He was a god. This was his revolution. This was his plan. This was his world. And he was about to bring it into chaos. For the common good.

And on the last day, God said: let there be war.

Frances laughed aloud. It was so amazing to him that despite all of the protocols, despite all of the security measures, despite everything that had been planned �" no one even thought about an insider threat. And he wasn’t doing this because he believed in what he was doing. He hadn’t done it because he hated them. He had done it because he could. Because he was a god. Because he needed to prove it. And because he wanted to show that if he wanted to, he could destroy the world.

They would all believe him now.

Tick. Tock.

He just wanted the call. He wanted to hear he had done it. He had accounted for everything. He wanted to hear that he alone had led millions into turmoil. He needed to hear that. When was he going to hear that?

Frances flipped open his phone again and flipped it closed. The nervous energy was killing him inside. His leg was still shaking and he was still rubbing his hands nervously. It was like holding the matching lotto numbers and waiting for the announcer to read them to you. You know that you won, but you still have to hear it for yourself.

Just at that moment, Frances’ phone shook violently as a message was sent to it. Frances jumped right out of his chair and the phone dropped onto the concrete floor.

As he lifted the phone, he slowly and carefully opened the lid.

A Citizen has been shot. It has started.

Frances sighed loudly to himself. He had done it. He alone had started this. He could leave his safe house and watch the chaos unfold as the government lost control of its people. He was such a god. And they would all recognize him as such.

Frances flipped his phone closed and stood up from the chair, rubbing his hands together. He walked over to the massive steel door and tried the door handle. The door handle didn’t budge. He tried it again, but it was locked. The air vent at his feet before it sealed itself with a violent bang.

“HEY!” Frances shouted as he hammered on the door.

“LET ME OUT OF HERE! YOU OWE THIS TO ME!” Frances spat at the door. “THIS IS MY REVOLUTION! YOU WOULDN’T BE HERE WITHOUT ME!”

His phone vibrated again, and Frances quickly flipped it open in rage.

I know what you’ve done. And there’s no room for murderers in any nation.

Frances threw his phone against the far wall and screamed at the top of his lungs. As he caught his breath, he could smell something odd. He looked up at the ceiling and saw a faint fume being emitted through the air duct. He backed against a wall and slumped onto the floor, cradling his head in his hands. He began to wheeze as he inhaled the fumes that were quickly filling the room. As his breath shortened, his self-esteem plummeted. He was not a god. He was not the driving force for the revolution. He wasn’t even going to be alive anymore.

He was just another pawn.

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