Syndicates //

ii

My room was freezing when I woke up. My back and neck felt stiff and I realized that I slept without my head on a pillow, just a flat, hard bench.

This is not my room.

I'm in a cell. This can't be happening. How did I get here? There is completely silence, except any sound I make that echoes through this chamber. It's dim in here.

A static shoots through the room and a voice speaks, "Cipher. You are under the custody of the Cobalt Legion."

"What do you want?" I sleepily groan.

"Information. You can hand it over willingly, or we can take it forcefully. Fair warning: we may not be as gentle as Harry." I can't tell how they know Harry. Either I've been double-kidnapped, now by the enemy, or this is who Harry works with. He left me little to know about him.

"You know what? I honestly don't give a shit. I have no ties with my employer. I'll tell you whatever you want to know," I orientate myself to the mirror that I know is double-sided. Now whether I was telling the truth about handing over the information or not, I don't really know. I'm in a bit of a pinch now.

There's no response. The room is completely silent, no air circulating through the AC, no chatter from outside. I could hear a pin drop. Instead, the lock of the door turns with a click and a shadow emerges.

"Cipher," an older man in a suit enters, "Sit." He commands me like I'm a dog, snapping his finger to the chair at the table. I already don't like him.

Harry follows behind, head down and silent.

"First off, who were you working for?" the suited man asks. He sits at the table across from me.

"The source was anonymous at first, but I figured out it was the Midnights." That was a rival syndicate.

"So you were able to figure that out with the task you were given?" He asks.

I recall, "I ran the IP address through a B.B. and found the location. I don't like not knowing who or what I'm working with."

"I'd like to go over more information, but first I want to offer you a deal."

"Okay," I worry for the worst.

"It's not often a freelancer, let alone a rival freelancer impresses me. Your loyalty concerns me, but your skill allows me to look past that. I have the means to eliminate you if you become a threat to the security of my organization."

"Got it," I say shortly.

"I'm offering you a position with the 04, my most prestigious unit. However, you will be preliminary for six months until you can build up respect and trust within the syndicate."

"And if I refuse?"

"Well, you'll be stuck in that little Chinatown apartment of yours, heavily unpaid for your exemplarily work. I understand that not having an affiliation to any syndicate is freeing, but real hackers who want to make it eventually 'settle down' with one of The Nine," the boss explains.

Harry listens to the conversation, squinting between the boss and I as we speak. I fiddle with my thumbs, resisting tapping my foot to generate any noise.

My eyes shift back and forth between the two and thoughts race through my head. I'm trading my freedom for a different kind of freedom.

"I've gotten offers from some of the others," I lie. "What can you offer me that they can't?"

"Spacious living, all expenses paid, medical, dental insurance," he lists. "You'll retire rich before you're 40 and leave a legacy, not to mention part of your retirement benefits include security."

How many of his muscle actually live to retire, though?

"The Phantoms offered me top-of-the-industry vehicles and gear," I barter.

"But I know they do not provide living quarters for free," he counters.

"I'm not living off the streets. The housing isn't a breaking point for me, it's the gear."

I've cornered him and I can't any further. I can tell that he doesn't want to do that, but he also doesn't want me to walk out of here.

"Deal?" I raise pressure on him.

"Deal." He grumpily agrees, sealing it with a handshake.