Power Up, page 3
Marcus wasn’t prepared for the sudden enthusiasm. He stared at his phone longingly, then reluctantly handed it over.
Carlos tossed it in the air a couple of times before strolling off toward his bedroom. He glanced back over his shoulder. “Don’t start a new game until I’m back. I’ll only be a minute. Although you might finally win if I’m in the other room…”
Marcus threw a pillow at him, narrowly missing and knocking over the tower of pizza boxes. The dishes swayed precariously, but remained upright. Marcus was almost disappointed. A small part of him had hoped it would all come crashing down, like the rest of his life.
He felt a shiver up his back and a weight settled at the base of his neck, pulling the hoodie tight. That at least gave him something to smile about. He said, “Hey Nutsack. Find any good acorns out there?”
Nutsack snored in response. No matter how many beds Marcus tried to make for him, he still slept in Marcus’ hoodie, whether it was buried in the laundry pile, hanging on the washing line, or currently being worn.
Still, it was hard to complain. At least something in his life still loved him, even if it was a barely domesticated tree rat.
Carlos strolled back into the living room wearing tattered tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt that was old enough to legally drink. He gestured to his ensemble. “Happy now?”
“You look like a crash test dummy after a hard day’s work.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment from a man with your fashion sense.” Carlos scooped up both controllers and tossed one at Marcus. He said, “Ready for another arse kicking?”
“Honestly? I’m getting pretty tired of getting my arse kicked.”
Marcus went to check his phone, before remembering Carlos had it.
As he heard the voice proclaim Fight! he reassured himself that this was rock bottom, things couldn’t possibly get any worse.
He was wrong.
***
Sarah locked the door to her office. She felt the reassuring weight of the laptop bag on her shoulder, and then hesitated. James had been clear. With a crushing sense of guilt she unlocked the door and carefully placed her laptop back on her desk. It would be patiently waiting for her in the morning. Perhaps she could come in a little early and…
She shook her head and closed the door with conviction, locking it once more. What she needed was peace and quiet.
She had barely taken two steps when she heard the screaming. It was coming from down the hallway. She instinctively moved towards it. At first she wondered if the night cleaner was butchering a pop song, but then she got close enough to make out the words.
“HELP! PLEASE HELP!”
There was something oddly familiar about the voice. She picked up the pace. Somebody needed her help.
She certainly wasn’t prepared for what came racing around the corner. It was Professor Jasper. In his underwear.
He barrelled towards her, recognition slowly dawning on his face. He skidded to a halt in front of her and said, “Sarah? Are you in on this?”
“In on what?” she blurted out. Then, feeling like there were a lot more questions, settled on the top two. “What are you doing here? Where are your clothes?”
“No time to explain. We need to leave.”
An enormous man in a grey suit barrelled around the corner. When he saw Professor Jasper, he charged, his vast frame taking a few pounding steps to get to full acceleration. The hallway shook in protest.
Jasper grabbed Sarah by the hand. “I’m all turned around. Which way is the exit?”
She pointed towards the lobby and he bolted away with the large man hot on his heels. His head turned to stare as he passed her, as if he was memorizing her face. It was deeply unnerving.
Sarah paused for a moment. Something definitely wasn’t right, but she didn’t know how to deal with it. It was unclear if the large man worked here. His confidence strolling around didn’t suggest he was an intruder. Still, there was something off about him. It was his eyes. They were devoid of any emotion.
She needed more to go on before she could act. She couldn’t exactly call the police and say Hello, a man that I used to work with ran past me in his underpants. Send help! It didn’t even qualify as unusual behaviour. Professor Jasper wasn’t exactly mentally stable before he found out the entire world was a simulation. Afterwards, he’d really gone off the deep end. There was a good chance he deserved whatever trouble he was currently in.
Sarah headed in the same direction, phone in hand, ready to call for help. She gasped at the sight that greeted her as she ran into the lobby. Jasper kicked and squirmed on the shoulder of his pursuer, like a worm on a hook. The large man ignored the various blows as if they were a minor inconvenience, and headed towards the lifts. That made no sense. Why would security be dragging Professor Jasper into the building?
The lift opened, catching everyone by surprise. A small woman in a crisp white lab coat glanced up from her phone and said, “Professor Jasper?”
Jasper stopped writhing and yelled, “Run!”
The woman tried to dart out of the lift, but the large man grabbed her with his other hand. She protested loudly, “There’s been some kind of misunderstanding. Perhaps we could sit down and have a calm and rational conversation to determine where communication has broken down?”
The man didn’t reply. He hefted her effortlessly into the air. Her tone changed from naïve child to stern parent. “How dare you place your hands on me! Do you know who I am? I work directly with the CEO. If you don’t put me down at once, I shall ensure your employment here is terminated.”
The man laughed, but refused to drop her. The woman tried to wriggle free and yelled, “Final warning!”
The large man casually tossed Jasper into the lift and used his now-free hand to slap the woman. She stopped wriggling from the shock of being hit. Once she regained her senses, an entirely different instinct kicked in. She thrashed her legs. When she couldn’t reach him, she punched ineffectively at his thick arm. He laughed. “What a surprise, the yappy little dog is more bark than bite!”
She let out a guttural scream of pent-up rage and went straight for the man’s eyes. He held her at arm’s length, chuckling as she tried to reach him. Then he slapped her again and threw her into the lift on top of Jasper. The lift doors closed slowly, drowning out the woman’s cries for help.
Sarah was already dialling the police, when a voice behind her said, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Sarah turned to see a short man in a brown trench coat. The best word to describe him was scruffy, and that was generous. He grinned at her, revealing crooked teeth. The man reached into his coat and pulled out a long knife with a serrated edge. He took a moment to admire it before he said, “End the call, or I end you.”
She looked around for help. The security desk was usually manned at this hour, but it was mysteriously empty. She calculated her chances of winning a fight with this man to be near zero. Her best chance was escape, but for that, she needed his guard down. She made a show of hitting the big red button on her phone.
He nodded. “Good girl.” Then he held out his hand. “Hand it over.”
“No,” she said firmly, while slowly backing away.
He put the knife away. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, not looking at all like he meant it.
Sarah had no such reservations. She took a step towards the man, her phone held at arm’s length. As he reached out to snatch it, she kicked him as hard as she could in the testicles. It was obvious from his expression that she’d hit the targets.
The man’s central nervous system informed him that now would be a good time to have a little lie down in the fetal position, while it did a rather lengthy reboot.
Sarah wanted to run, but the writhing man blocked her path to the exit. She only had a second to decide. It was clear that if she stayed, this man would hurt her. Not to defend himself, but because he enjoyed it. She ran for the lift.
She hammered at the call button as the man in the trench coat got shakily back to his feet. As soon as she heard the ding, she jumped in and pressed the door close button. The man was running now, the knife back in his hand. He raced towards her, moving with surprising speed. Sarah could not say the same about the lift door, which was taking the scenic route on its way to closing. If he got his hand in, she’d be trapped.
He was still a few feet away when he realized he wasn’t going to make it. With a flick of his wrist, the knife left his hand. Sarah dropped to the ground in time to avoid the projectile before it slammed into the back wall of the lift. She looked up at the blade as the lift door finally closed. There was a thump as the man slammed into it on the other side, followed by the sound of angry yelling. She hit all the buttons to buy some time. If he was watching the floor display, it would be impossible to know which floor she got off at. She could find somewhere to hide and call the police.
The pit of her stomach dropped as the lift descended. It wasn’t supposed to do that. All the buttons were for higher floors. The office didn’t have a basement, at least as far as she knew. Where exactly was she going?
There wasn’t time for a phone call. In a panic, she tapped out a text message, watching as her signal dropped from four bars to one. She hit send as the lift doors opened, revealing the man in the grey suit. She reached up to grab the knife out of the wall, but he shook his head. “You don’t want to do that.”
She tried anyway. The last thing she saw was his huge hand flying towards her.
***
The phone dinged loudly.
Marcus immediately perked up. “Who’s that?”
Carlos glanced at it, and his brow crinkled.
“WHO IS IT?” asked Marcus, loud enough to wake up Nutsack. The squirrel wasn’t best pleased at the interruption and let them both know with a chitter, before immediately falling back asleep.
Carlos didn’t respond. He kept playing the game, but there was a hint of something on his face.
“It’s Sarah, isn’t it?” Marcus said, utterly convinced. Who else was going to text him at this hour?
“It’s nothing for you to worry about.”
Marcus threw down the game controller and pounced. Carlos hadn’t been expecting an attack, and he flew sideways, the phone skittering out of his pocket and across the floor. Carlos flipped back up onto his feet and grabbed hold of Marcus’ leg before he could drag himself over to the phone.
“What are you doing? You’ve completely lost it!” Carlos said, pulling his friend backwards.
Marcus scrabbled for purchase on the wooden floor, but there was nothing for his fingers to grip. He was slowly being pulled further and further from the phone. There wasn’t much doubt who had the strength advantage. Carlos had always been stronger, and that was before all the martial arts and parkour training. Marcus would never beat him in a battle of strength, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t outsmart him.
“Nutsack, fetch!” Marcus yelled.
The squirrel burst out of his hoodie like a torpedo. His claws added a few more scratches to the wooden floor as he raced over to the phone and tried to pick it up. Instead, he shunted it straight under the front door.
Everyone stopped and held their breath. It was quiet enough to hear Marcus’ phone hitting the road far below.
Marcus found a hidden reserve of strength and dragged himself to his feet, shrugging Carlos off. He turned and grabbed his friend by the t-shirt. “Was it from her? Tell me now.”
“Fine, it was from Sarah,” Carlos said.
Marcus let him go. “What did it say?”
“I don’t know. Your phone was locked. It didn’t show the message, only her name. Whatever she has to say, it’s bad news.”
“You’d better hope I can still read that message,” Marcus said, racing out the front door. He briefly considered leaping from the balcony, but thought better of it. Only an idiot would jump from this height. Instead, he scrambled down the shaky rope ladder as fast as he could.
He was almost at the bottom when there was a thump as Carlos landed on the ground, tucking into a roll. He sprang to his feet and glanced up at Marcus. “I thought you were in a hurry?”
“Don’t make me hit you again!”
“Just try it!” Carlos said, putting up his fists.
There was another thump as Nutsack landed on Carlos’ face. He managed a muffled yell. “Get this thing off me!”
Marcus whistled, and Nutsack jumped off Carlos. He glided silently over to Marcus’ shoulder, who gave him a stroke and said, “Good boy.” The squirrel chirped and immediately jumped into the hoodie.
“That little bastard got fur in my mouth,” Carlos said, spitting profusely.
“What a shame,” Marcus said, picking up the phone. The screen flickered. There were more cracks than before, but he could still read the message.
Send help. In trouble. Professor Jasper too. At DAS.
Marcus straightened up, his pulse racing. He said, “Get the car!”
“Why?” asked Carlos.
“Sarah’s in trouble!”
Carlos audibly sighed. “Real trouble, or imaginary trouble?”
“Real trouble!”
“What kind of real trouble?”
Marcus hopped up and down on the spot. “She didn’t say.”
“It’s late, and I don’t have much petrol. Can you call her and find out if this can wait until morning?”
Marcus gritted his teeth. He didn’t have time to be arguing with Carlos, but he also didn’t have the car keys, and extracting them from Carlos with force might take a while. He dialled Sarah’s number, but after two rings, it disconnected. Marcus did his best to control the panic as he texted her back:
I’m on my way!
He immediately tried calling again, but this time the line was dead.
“She’s not answering!”
“Can’t be much of an emergency then, can it? You’re already imagining every terrible thing that could possibly happen. Remember what we talked about? I’m sure everything’s fine. She’s probably gone back to bed.”
Marcus shook his head. “No, something’s wrong. She hasn’t texted me in weeks, and now she tells me she’s in trouble at DAS completely out of the blue. I’m not making this up. Now, are you going to get the keys, or should I ask Nutsack to fetch them?”
There was an angry growl from Marcus’ hoodie and Carlos considered his options. The keys were in his trouser pocket, and Nutsack wasn’t exactly known for retrieving things gently. There might be some collateral damage.
“Ok fine, but promise me that if this turns out to be a misunderstanding, you’ll start listening to me.”
“Agreed,” Marcus said, hoping against all the evidence that everything was totally ok.
***
“Boss, we have a problem.”
“Problems are what you’re paid to eliminate, not create,” James responded. He was sitting behind a large mahogany desk that had previously belonged to his father. He’d been meaning to switch it for something more modern, that better fitted with the aesthetic of the office, but he had more important things to worry about.
The desk looked out of place, but not as much as the two men standing in front of him.
The short, skinny one looked like three weasels in a trench coat. He moved like it too. His limbs twitched continuously, like they had their own agenda and he was holding them back from whatever terrible thing they would rather be doing. He had tufts of mousy brown hair sprouting from various places it shouldn’t. Everything about him was wrong, which was exactly why James had hired him. His reputation preceded him.
The large man was the opposite in every conceivable way. He barely moved at all. He appeared to be carved from stone. Every angle was a right angle. His grey suit was as square as his jaw line. Even his mouth was a straight line, and it didn’t move. He didn’t have a reputation, because reputations required witnesses.
James hadn’t asked either of their names. In his experience, these types of contractors operated best when they believed there was a sense of anonymity. The only time he’d need to know their name was if something had gone horribly wrong, and a mess needed to be cleaned up. In that scenario, it was better not to be too attached. The contractors that solved contractor problems were the really scary ones.
Hopefully, he wouldn’t need to be calling one of those today.
He thought of them simply as Weasel and Granite. He said, “What happened?”
Weasel shifted uncomfortably, whilst Granite remained impassive. They both waited for the other to speak.
James said, “I don’t have time for the long version of this story. Give me the highlights.”
Weasel was the first to blink. “Professor Jasper briefly escaped our custody.” He blurted the words out quickly, like pulling off a plaster.
That immediately got James’ attention. They hadn’t extracted the information they needed from Jasper yet. The future of the entire enterprise was in jeopardy. James couldn’t hand over information that he didn’t have, and the people looking to buy it weren’t the type that gave points for effort.
Weasel saw the expression on James’s face and tried to intercept the imminent yelling. “Don’t worry, we caught him before he could leave the building.”
James relaxed, but there was something else. Something they weren’t saying. If they’d already caught Jasper, why confess at all? He said, “What else?”
“There were witnesses…”
James felt a migraine taking hold at the back of his head. Now wasn’t the time for incompetence. He barely tolerated it at the best of times, and now most certainly wasn’t the best of times. The last thing they needed was collateral damage.
“How many witnesses are we talking about?”
“Two. Couple of women. A short pasty one in a lab coat, and a leggy redhead.”
James’ blood pressure went from impressively low to staggeringly high in the blink of an eye. They couldn’t have screwed this up more if they’d been trying. Two of his most valuable employees, both caught up in this mess. The only bright side was that Jas had already presented to the board of directors. Explaining her disappearance in addition to Professor Jasper’s would have created too much suspicion at such a sensitive time in the operation.
