[00] The Control Room

[DA 2009]

PRESENT TIME…

Damon took one last sip from his wine glass, watching as the finale began to unfold. Thus far, no fighting had commenced. His Eliminators ringed them, completely invincible with their new modifications. Alexander Trafford had already tried hitting them with his trusty Desert Eagles, to no avail. Unfortunately, that remained the extent of his grand conclusion, the one that was supposed to be “indicative of the program’s success.” Instead, Sage spewed out cinematic poetry of a childhood trauma…not exactly what he was looking for.

“Are all the preparations complete, Audric?” he asked coolly.

“Just call me the master of improv,” the techie replied. He had long since changed out of his “penguin suit” and resumed his normal attire, headgear and visor and all. “You sure you want to do this, Damon?”

Damon chuckled, setting his wine glass back on the table. “Absolutely.”

“I don’t see how it’s going to help,” Audric shrugged, typing away.

“You do computers, I do the planning,” Dukes retorted. “The Eliminators will do their jobs and I will take care of the rest.”

-----

THREE HOURS AGO…

“Never had an employer personally deliver the check before,” Hollywood remarked as he examined piece of paper pressed between his fingertips.

“I’m not your typical employer,” Damon said. “I compensate properly for a job well done.”

“I think that those of us who participated more than others should be compensated more, no?” Pierre smiled slyly. He gestured towards the ever-silent Caracol. “This monstrosity, for example, did not fight at all, yet he is getting equal pay? Ridicule, je dis!”

Caracol leaned over and growled warningly, his massive frame completely dwarfing the faux Frenchman. Pierre immediately shrank back.

“Which I think is a personally wonderful idea! I’m glad I thought of it!” he added nervously.

The namek straightened back up.

“I don’t want any money,” Vale Dura grumbled. “I want to go back in there and fight. That little wimpy redhead just got lucky, that’s all. I completely had him beat! Why can’t we go back in and fight?”

“Because the job is over, you Neanderthal,” Hollywood sniped.

Damon raised a hand, interrupting their squabble. “Actually, I have one more assignment for you. I’ll even add a little bonus to those checks of yours.”

Hollywood lowered his sunglasses, giving the host an appraising look. “What kind of assignment?”

“Oui. And how much zeni are we talking?” Pierre chimed in.

“I’ll communicate all the details once you’re reinserted. We have a few upgrades we need to make to your programming first,” Damon replied.

The four Eliminators agreed, and the host nodded his satisfaction as the medical team began to prep them for reinsertion into the machine. As Dukes left, he pulled a medic aside and spoke as discreetly as possible, pointing towards Pierre.

“By the way, don’t let that man near Dr. Roberts’ capsule,” he instructed firmly.

The medic, slightly confused, nodded.

-----

PRESENT TIME…

“Oh, and Audric, have you located our friend yet?” Damon asked.

“Yes I have. He should be on his way right now courtesy of Syntex escort. I don’t think he’ll be too happy about it, especially after we promised to let him go,” Audric chuckled. “After all, he did end up literally eating a bullet.”

“I’m sure he’ll be much more forgiving when he arrives. He must not be late. I do have more than one promise to keep, after all,” Damon smiled wrly. “Incidentally, speaking of promises, we should be expecting Josh Drake at any moment.”

“WhhhAT?” Audric promptly recoiled.

“Don’t you remember? He promised he would bring us a six-pack and watch a Combat Day with us. This being the last fight, I expect he’ll be here very soon.”

“But I hate him. He touched my console and he’s weird,” Audric whined.

Dukes couldn’t help but snicker. “I think the two of you are more alike than you realize.”

Audric whirled around, his face screwed up in frustration and his index finger jabbed in the air like a sword. “Don’t you ever compare the two of us! I am leet, he is nub!”

“A ‘nub’ that bypassed your security system and had the whole program independently inspected,” Damon pointed out.

Audric’s fiery conviction wavered for a split second. “No he didn’t.”

“Check your logs.”

Audric pulled up a separate command line and brought up the system security checks, as well as access logs and entry protocols. Damon patiently waited, and the typing suddenly stopped as the technical supervisor froze completely still.

“Well?” Dukes prompted.

“This must be what it feels like…” Audric said differently.

“I beg your pardon?”

Audric repeated himself, his voice steadily rising in volume. “This must be what it feels like to be RAPED! Who could possibly be so depraved as to violate my system!? A man’s console is sacred! SACRED! And he just soiled it with his filthy team of nubs that probably think you can hack an IP!”

“Audric! I have one more task for you to do before Josh gets here!” Damon ordered over the violent raging.

“Yesssss?” Audric hissed through forcibly clenched teeth.

“Dose them. I can’t take any chances and they’re not fighting. A little adrenaline should help them along.”

“How much?” the techie asked grudgingly.

“Enough to get the blood pumping,” Damon instructed.

Audric complied, muttering random death threats to himself as he signaled the capsules to feed large doses of endorphins and adrenaline into the dormant bodies of the four remaining competitors. Almost as soon as he hit the ‘Execute’ button, did a large knock bang on the wall.

“Party over here!” somebody hollered behind the door.

Audric whirled around, tightly wielding a plastic take-out fork in his hand. “Don’t you let him in or I will stab you!”

Damon glanced over at the door, his eyes narrowing. With a fateful push of a button, the door to the control room slid open.

-----

TWO HOURS, TWENTY MINUTES AGO…

“Here is your check, Kristanna,” Damon said politely, handing over the slip of paper.

Kristanna took it between her energy-cuffed hands, a frosty glare in her eyes. She glanced up to the two Syntex goons flanking her.

“A security precaution,” Dukes smiled. “You understand. We ended our arrangement on such unpleasant terms. You disappointed me, you know; you came so highly recommended.”

The guards released her from her bondage, and the cuffs clattered harmlessly to the floor. She brushed past Damon, who had stood almost dangerously close to her. “Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Dukes.”

Damon’s smile widened, waiting for her to get halfway down the hall before adding, “Oh, by the way: be sure to send me a copy of that lovely report of yours.”

He could almost hear the trap close as her footsteps suddenly stopped. The host turned around as she did, and the teenaged android analyzed him for a moment, taking her time as she responded, “I don’t know what you mean.” She flashed him a sarcastic smirk.

Damon began to punctuate his words with his hands, walking ever so slowly towards his quarry. “At first, I thought you were hired by Josh Drake as part of his independent inspection. Josh likes to circumvent the board sometimes and do things his own way. But why, then, would he bring a Kajin Ralan detective sniffing around the company?”

Kristanna folded her arms under her breasts, somewhat amused by the sudden interrogation.

“Then I realized it wasn’t Josh Drake at all. No, it was somebody else. Somebody who wants me out…somebody who slipped up,” Damon concluded, now mere inches away from the android. “Too bad they had to send you.”

“Mr. Dukes, I will be more than happy to send you a copy of my report. I think you’ll be very pleased with the results,” Kristanna taunted, quirking an eyebrow.

“I’m sure I will. Tell me, how did a little reject science project like yourself end up on one of the most prominent police forces in the galaxy?” Damon whispered.

The girl’s face went blank. “How did you know that?”

“I know everything,” the host grinned.

“Those records are supposed to be sealed,” she said, her tone betraying a hint of hostility.

“There’s no such thing in my world. My dear Kristanna, if I can figure out the identities of two princesses who have not yet even been born in this timeline, then a little background check on an officer of the law shouldn’t be too difficult,” Damon explained confidently.

Kristanna gave him an up and down glance, visually noting the close proximity between the two. “It’s a federal offense to open up a sealed record on Kajin Rala. Did you know it’s also a federal offense to physically or verbally threaten an officer of the law?”

“No, this isn’t a physical threat. This is sexual harassment,” Dukes corrected. “Perhaps you missed that class while your very exquisite body was being soldered to a tin can.”

“I would watch your mouth if I was you,” the undercover agent warned.

“Or what? You’ll report me with the recording device implanted in your cybernetics?” Damon produced a thin chip from his pocket, an action that elicited an expression of surprise from the android. “You can’t hide anything from me.”

“You’re scum, Dukes,” Kristanna snarled. “And I’m going to take you down.”

“I am not scum,” he growled dangerously. “I want what I earned, and you’re going to help me get it. You want a Syntex employee’s head on a plate. It’s not going to be mine; I’m too good for you to keep up, little girl. You’re a headhunter, and I’m going to give you a head, but you have to do something in return for me.”

“And what exactly is that?”

Damon’s face returned to a pleasant, yet arrogant smile as he pulled a strand of her hair back with his thumb. “I need you to go back into the machine.”