Chapter 1: Beginnings

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The agency was a busy place, they worked alongside the CIA however were lesser known. Usually dealing with drug rings and the like. One of their best agents was Mark Fishbach. Though he was jokingly called Narkiplier by his comrades. He had taken down many drug rings and cartels, and now was in the process of taking down one of the largest cartels yet.

He walks into the office like any other day, wearing his typical white T-shirt which hugged his muscled torso, black slacks, and guns holstered at his belt. He has a black jacket, almost like a trench coat slung over his shoulder and his black combat boots thump with each step.

He walks in to his personal office. A desk right in front of a large window, a bookshelf pushed up against the left wall, and on the right a large cork board and white board. Pictures of possible members of the cartel pinned to the cork board along with news article clippings, and notes written messily all over the white board in an array of colors ranging from black to red.

He throws his jacket over his desk lazily not quite caring about it, as other things run through his mind. He walks up to the boards examining the pictures and news clippings closely. They were running out of leads and it wasn't looking good. However Mark refused to give up on taking this place down.

He signs running a hand through his dyed red hair in a frustrated manor. A knock sounds at his door before it creaks open and his boss walks in. An older man with balding black hair and always dressed in a suit.

"Mark we have a lead on someone who is working for the cartel."

He says in a gruff voice his words making Mark listen closely.

"He's called Jack, but we don't believe that's his real name. He's a hacker who can be hired for the right price and he's helped the cartel keep their business off the map. Sons of bitches must've paid him a lot."

His boss says scratching his balding head and watching Mark, whom looked back with interest.

"We need you to get close to him, hire him, take him on a couple missions, get him to trust you and tell you anything he knows about the Cartel"

His boss says and Mark nods, his hope for taking down the drug ring now high as ever.

"Yes sir, I'm on it"

Mark says with a small salute as his boss hands him a paper with an address written on it.

Within 10 minutes mark stood outside a worn building, his black coat on and covering his holstered guns. He looks at the address one more time before walking up.

It was an old building but this hacker tended to move from place to place, mostly to avoid being caught by any enemies he may have made while on the job.

Mark knocks on the door quietly and when he gets no answer he creaks open the door. The first thing hitting him was the smell of cigarette smoke. A little ways Into the building a small, rickety desk was set up, a very nice computer set up on it, on the back of the computer was a picture of a green eyeball, which seemed to almost stare into one's soul.

Sitting at the desk was what looked to be a man, but one couldn't be fully sure as he had a black hoodie, the hood up and covering his face. Only a little of his mouth visible along with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth loosely the smoke rising up slowly.

Mark cautiously steps forward before standing a few feet in front of the desk watching the man closely, and his hand resting on his hip, right above his gun hidden under the coat.

"Are you Jack?"

Mark asks in his deep voice, his eyes trying to see under the mans hood.

"Who's asking"

The man says quietly, his voice not really what Mark had been expecting, it was low, but had a thick Irish accent to it, clear as day.

"The name's Mark I'm looking for a Hacker.... I need help on a... On a mission"

Mark says hesitantly his voice full of distrust. The mysterious man lifts his hand from his computer pulling the cigarette from his mouth and blowing out a puff of smoke.

"You a cop?"

The man asks now seeming more Interested in the red haired man that stood in front of him. Mark Runs a hand through his red hair hesitant to tell but finally speaks.

"Yah... Kind of I suppose... Listen I have 2 thousand with me I'm not sure how much you charge."

As he speaks the man stands pushing his black hood from his face, finally revealing his appearance. He was pale, his blue eyes shining in the little light there was, and his dyed green hair tousled. He wore glasses on his face which looked bored, yet slightly Interested in the agent. He reaches over closing his computer and lifting it into a brown leather satchel slung around his shoulder before dropping his cigarette on the ground and stomping it out with his brown boots. He looked as if he was going to leave, and Mark was sure he just screwed up their only chance to take down the cartel. The green haired man begins walking and stops right at Mark's side, his blue eyes meeting Mark's brown ones as he speaks in a low voice.

"Meet me at the Landon Diner"

He says softly his eyes boring into Mark's, his eyes emotionless .

"8'o'clock sharp... and don't be late... I hate waiting"

The man says as he begins walking pushing his hood back up to cover his green hair as he did so. Mark had thought to stop him, but decided against it, simply sighing and looking down at his watch. It was only 5, seems he would have to do a bit of waiting.

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