Desmoterion, page 17
“Then it’s your job to find ways to get the upper hand, whether it’s setting him up for failure in a trapped situation or something else. I want Trent Dupont eliminated.”
Girish got up from his chair. “Then just shoot him in the Area of Death and be done with it. Why use me to do it?”
“Sit down, Kannan.”
“No, I won’t do this. I can’t. Find someone else to do your dirty work. You’re pathetic to use people like this. Be a fucking man and take Trent out yourself, or are you too much of a pussy to get it done?”
The leader got to his feet and moved around his desk to stand beside Girish. “You had best be careful of what you say to me, Kannan. I can have you killed in an instant.”
“I don’t doubt it — by someone else, no less. I doubt you’ve ever killed anyone by your own hands. How pathetic.”
“You are relieved of your duty, Kannan.”
Girish headed for the door. “Whatever, I don’t really care.”
* * *
Trying to rein in his emotions, Trent turned away. He could only imagine the awful meeting between the leader and Girish. He wouldn’t put it past them to be discussing his death sentence. Would the leader be bold enough to have Girish do it?
Girish was too emotional, and Trent could defeat him with both hands tied behind his back. It wouldn’t be a fair fight.
Then again, when has their leader ever been fair?
Trent moved from the door to pace inside his office. He had to think of a way to get his plan into motion. Having Girish trying to kill him would not help unless their leader had Girish do it outside of the organization.
The odds of that were slim to none since it wouldn’t make sense for both of them to be on the same mission.
Trent was about to pace further when a knock sounded on his door. He froze in place, wondering who it might be and dreading the thought of it being their leader or, worse, Girish.
The insistent knocking came again, followed by a voice. “It’s Girish.”
Trent opened the door. “Come here to kill me?”
“How did you know he asked me to do that?”
Trent pushed Girish outside, grabbing him by the wrist to drag him along. “It’s all over your face. We need to talk.”
Girish struggled to break free of Trent’s tight grasp. “The cameras are all wired for sound. Even Samson can read lips, so it’s pointless to talk anywhere.”
Trent pulled Girish toward the senior crew quarters. “Just wait.”
* * *
Trent pushed Girish inside his room. Girish whipped around to protest when he spotted Trent putting a finger up to his lips.
Trent sat down on his bed, reaching behind his legs, and pushed something.
Girish blinked.
Trent glanced up. “No doubt you’ve seen me blackout the cameras.”
“How do you do that?”
“It doesn’t matter; we only have a few minutes before it reverts. I assume the leader asked you to write up a mission profile in order to kill me.”
Girish stared at Trent. “How did you know?”
“It’s the same thing I had to do with my former boss, the one I replaced. The leader is predictable in many ways, and that’s one of them.”
Girish folded his arms across his chest. “Except I refused to do it. He had me relieved of duty.”
“You did what? Why do something so stupid? At least more stupid than you normally are.”
Girish leaned against a wall facing Trent. “I’ve had enough of this place. It’s making me paranoid and on edge. I want it to end.”
Trent got up from his bed to stand in front of Girish. “Then do as the leader asked. Go up there and apologize to him any way you can and then write up the mission. If you fail, you’ll be killed and out of here for good.”
Girish scoffed. “Like I want to do that. I’d rather beat the shit out of you instead of killing you.”
“You’ll get that chance if the mission goes how I think it will.” Trent kept moving slowly closer to Girish. “Despite him wanting you to write it up, the leader will override it later. The last time this happened, he had me and my boss locked in a metal cage for a fight to the death. It’s all a game with him and nothing else. He probably gets off on it, for all I know. Either way, make that mission, and you’ll get your chance to beat me.”
“Do you want to die?”
Trent laughed, one of the first that Girish had ever heard, and pressed his chest against Girish’s body. “What makes you think you’ll win, Kannan? I’ve bested you every time we’ve sparred.”
Girish pushed Trent off him. “I’m serious, Trent.”
“So am I. Trust me, this way is better for you. Now get out of here before the camera comes back on. Get your ass up to the leader’s office and ask for another chance. I don’t care how you do it; just get it done.”
“I don’t like this.”
“You don’t have to like it, just do it.” Trent shoved Girish outside. “Like everything around here.”
* * *
The leader glanced up from his computer monitor to see Girish standing in front of him. “Didn’t I relieve you of duty, Kannan?”
“You did, sir.” Girish stood at attention.
“I’m here to apologize for my attitude and convince you to change your mind. I spoke out of turn as I didn’t expect to be asked to do such a thing, and it came as a shock. But now I’ve time to think about it, and here I am. I’m on board, and I’ve even started to think of a way to take Trent down. I think I’ll be successful. I’d like permission to work on it,” Girish pleaded.
“Is that so? What made you change your mind?”
“The thought of not getting a chance to beat the shit out of Trent.” Girish grinned wide. “I’m sure you’ll assign someone else to do the deed, and I shouldn’t miss an excellent opportunity like this. I have nothing else to live for, so I want that chance.”
“And if I refuse?”
“That’s your choice, of course. I’ll be disappointed, but it's not up to me.”
The leader nodded. “Very well, meet with Kipper to create the mission. He’ll give you computer access. Again, I will stress that you are not to tell them it concerns Trent in any way, even if it’s offhanded.”
“Of course, I don’t want others interfering with it. I just need to learn how to set up missions.”
The leader tapped on his computer keyboard. “I’ve given you access to computer five. Make sure the mission is encoded to priority seven clearance when you’re finished. That way, only I’ll be able to see details.”
“Yes, sir.”
The leader studied Girish’s rigid appearance. “That is all, Kannan. I expect it to be finished by next week. The current mission will be done, and yours will need to be prepped.”
“I will get it done. Even if I have to stay up late.”
The leader watched Girish leave and then typed something else into his computer. A message popped up with a picture of Samson in it. The leader smiled at it and opened the file.
* * *
Kipper got back to the communications area in time to see Girish pestering one of his crew. He groaned and moved over to them. “You have no business being here, Kannan, leave.”
A kid with bright yellow hair shook his head at the display. “Actually he does. It looks like he now has access to computer five. Should I train him?”
Kipper moved to look down at the screen showing Girish’s access to the computer systems. “That can’t be. He’s not a high enough rank to use that computer.”
The kid shrugged. “Maybe not, but it’s in the system. It was added by a high-ranking admin with level seven clearance. Is that your level, sir?”
Kipper turned to stare at Girish. “The leader gave you access?”
“Yes, to write up a mission idea I have. Where is computer five?”
Kipper tapped the yellow-haired kid on the shoulder. “Go show him how to access it, Burkis.”
Burkis nodded and got up from the computer. “Follow me.”
Kipper sat down in front of the computer screen, wondering what was going on. How had he progressed so swiftly in Desmoterion when he still knew next to nothing about it?
* * *
Girish stared at the screen prompt. “So what do I do? I’ve not been around computers much, to be honest.”
“First, you type in your access code. I looked it up and have written it down here.” He handed Girish a scrap of paper. “As soon as you set it up with a name, you’ll be prompted to change the code to something unique and keep it secret, so don’t worry, I won’t be able to access it.”
Girish typed the code in the box and pressed enter. The screen flashed a few times and brought up a template filled with various boxes. “Okay, now what?”
“You just fill in the boxes with the mission details. The top part is the mission name, then the operatives you want to use and their levels. If you don’t know their levels, just leave that part blank. The next section is the tools you might need for the mission.”
“Like guns, bombs, and the like?”
“Yeah, plus any vehicles such as helicopters, speed boats, or motorcycles,” He paused, then added. “Don’t go for motorcycles. It doesn’t have to be specific, just an estimate. You can leave any part of the plan empty so you might come back and build it up.”
“Got it. Is the third section for the mission itself?”
“That’s right. This is the part where you want to go into as much detail as you can about the mission you’re proposing.” Burkis looked at Girish. “Where you want it to take place, how you want the operatives to accomplish it, and the overall outcome. The more details you give, the likelier it will get approved by our leader when it goes for final approval. And that’s when stuff like that is added to it. Basically, it’s showing how much money and resources we might need for the mission.”
“So I can add to it later?”
Burkis smiled and pointed to the save icon at the bottom of the page. “Just click that if you want to save and log out. The box next to it is what you click to send it for approval. I assume they gave you a week to knock this out amongst your training stuff.”
Girish’s eyebrow rose. “How did you know that?”
“You’re a level three, so it’s always training for most of the day. It’s easy to figure out.”
Girish looked up at Burkis. “Is that my rank? I figured I was level one or something since I’m still a recruit.”
“No, it’s based on how long you’ve been here and how much training you’ve had. You’re at the top of Mike’s class, and you’ve had extensive weapons training. That’s much more than the lowly recruits who haven’t even gone on missions yet.”
Girish thought for a moment. “So does that mean Trent is like level five or something?”
Burkis shook his yellow hair. “No, Trent is level six. He’s the highest-ranking operative overall, apart from our leader being level seven. Mostly, he’s the boss of everyone else, while the leader is the boss of him. Though, anyone can take orders directly from our leader like my boss does.”
Girish looked at the monitor again. “So where do you specify for this to be seen by only level seven ranks?”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Well, our leader told me to make sure I encoded this with level seven security. He wanted to ensure that only he had access to the mission and no one else.”
Burkis scratched his head. “I don’t know. I’ll go ask Kipper about it.”
Only when Burkis left did Girish start entering the mission details in the bottom portion of the form. He wasn’t supposed to allow them to figure out it was for Trent, and considering Kipper warned Trent last time, Girish wouldn’t take his chances of it happening again. He’d be vague about it in case they came back.
Sure enough, Kipper came back with Burkis. Kipper looked down at Girish with a frown. “Why does this have to be level seven? That’s not the typical mission request. Trent’s missions can be seen by both myself and Emyr mostly for us to prepare and figure out what it’ll need and if it’s feasible or not. Having this go straight to our leader bypasses that.”
Girish shrugged, trying his best to keep his cool under the scrutiny. “I dunno why, but the leader wants it for his eyes only. That’s what he said. All I want to know is how to do that.”
Kipper leaned down to point at a box in the top left corner. “Usually, this defaults to your supervisor, Trent, in this case, but if you need to change it to his boss, then change the level to seven.”
Girish clicked on the field and changed it from six to seven. A box popped on the screen, warning that level seven was only seen by the highest level of operatives. He clicked the confirm button, and it disappeared, changing the level rank to seven in its place.
Kipper frowned at it and moved back. “There, now it will only go to our leader for approval.”
Girish went back to entering his mission into the fields. “Thanks; if I need anything else, I’ll let you know.”
* * *
Trent was in his office when a knock sounded on the door. He snorted at it, figuring Girish was coming to bug him again. With a sigh, he called out, “Come in.”
Kipper opened the door.
Trent angled his head to the side. “Um, what is it?”
Standing in the doorway, he said, “We have to talk.”
“Let me guess, Girish showed up in your area today?”
Kipper stared at him.
Trent laughed and waved Kipper in to sit down. “And I’ll bet he made up some kind of mission that looks highly suspicious to a normal person like you?”
“You could say that. Only the leader will see the mission. I don’t like this one bit.”
“I assume it’s a plot to kill me.”
Trent sat back in his chair. “Don’t look so shocked; you knew it was coming, especially by how I acted during the last mission. Our leader is relentless when it comes to that. I can’t say I’m surprised, though how Girish will take me down should be interesting.”
“This isn’t something to joke about, Trent.”
“It’s fine. I know about it and can plan how to counter it. The thing is, it’s not as cut and dry as our leader is making it seem.”
Kipper shuffled over to sit in the chair by Trent’s desk. “What do you mean?”
“If the leader is so hellbent on taking me out, who’ll be my replacement? The obvious choice would be Girish, but he’s not ready to lead anyone nor capable of it. That leaves either yourself or someone like Emyr or Mike. That’s not much to choose from.”
“Unless he means to eliminate the role, to make himself the supervisor and the leader.”
“I don’t buy that. It’s too obvious, and you know as well as I do that our leader likes to keep us on our toes. My luck, he’ll pick some snot-nosed kid from our recruits pile to mold into a new me.”
Kipper leaned back in the chair to laugh. “That would be appropriate. Who would be the most annoying of the bunch?”
Trent leaned forward over his desk and swore. “That’s exactly what he’s going to do. I have a feeling Stevenson is going to replace me. If they take him off the upcoming mission, I’ll know it’s true.”
“The pissant who Mike keeps screaming about? Why the hell would he choose that loudmouth?”
“To discredit me. If it goes according to my suspicions, I’ll be taken off the next mission and replaced. Then Girish can do his mission, whatever it may be, to kill me.”
* * *
At the end of the week, Trent stood in the hallway leading to the exit and the transporter bay. He wasn’t sure who was going to show up since their leader locked the mission. Trent tried to crack the encryption but to no avail.
Hopefully, he wasn’t being forced into this role by the leader. It would be fitting, but their leader enjoyed watching others murder their bosses more than sending Trent off to be a sex slave. He’d end up killing anyone who tried to lay a hand on him anyway, and it wouldn’t be a fair fight. Then again, pitting Girish against him wasn’t either.
Nah, sending Trent out on the mission would jeopardize it. The leader might have swapped in different recruits, but he wouldn’t have switched Trent in place of one of the two already selected.
A snort sounded before the dishwater blond Stevenson rounded the corner. He stopped in front of Trent and grinned.
Trent’s eyebrow arched. “Something on your mind, Stevenson?”
Stevenson chuckled. “Just wait.”
Trent was about to respond when he spotted two men with a smaller man in the middle, realizing it was Saunders confused him. He’d all but disappeared a week ago, so Trent assumed he’d been eliminated.
The two men stopped near Trent to leave Saunders before turning around and heading the same way they came.
Trent moved forward and said, “Saunders, where the hell have you been?”
“Apparently, getting modified for the mission. They removed the old tattoo that I got when I was a kid. Not sure what that was all about, but it’s gone now, and I’ve been resting in the hospital wing.”
Trent glanced over at Stevenson and noticed the crude prison tats were still there. He nodded at Saunders. “Well, I guess you’re the only one going on this mission. I hadn’t planned for a solo, but the leader must have made that choice later.”
Saunders glanced over at Stevenson before responding to Trent. “He’s not going?”
Pointing at Stevenson’s arms, Trent said, “He can’t go with those tattoos. I’d imagine the leader has promoted him instead.”
Stevenson grinned harder.
Trent ignored it and pointed to the hallway. “You might as well head for the transport. It’s at the end of the hallway. Arden and Emyr should already be there. Good luck.”
Saunders moved toward the hallway and then stopped to look at Trent. “I have a feeling this mission is more than it appears, and I assume if I resist, I’m dead.”
“Yes, in both cases. I can tell you that if it succeeds, it will help us in the long run. It may not seem like it now and whatever might happen in the meantime, but it does.”
