Free Falling

Code Blue

To say that he was simply pissed would be a gross understatement. He was seething. Kinzie had downplayed the side effects of using the NEMO chair to project his subconscious into the Deckers' virtual world - it gave him a throbbing headache unlike any he'd ever had. He would have preferred to just pull a Johnny and blown the remaining Deckers to hell in the real world, but no, Kinzie insisted that the only real way to get to them would be through the Deckers' framework since all of their dealings were cyber-based. So far, he'd run around as a toilet and a blow-up doll. He hoped like hell no one would dare bring up after this was over. Having to play Dungeons and Dragons with the Deckers' leader had been the last fucking straw. Jamien approached his fallen opponent, enjoying seeing the kid desperately scoot away from him, eyes wide with terror. He was Matt Miller's boogeyman. "Bye, Matt!" He lifted his arm, prepared to fire his cyber weapon.

"W-wait!" Matt's avatar changed, revealing just what the British brat really looked like. Jamien kinda wished he'd change back; the avatar wasn't such an eyesore. "I can clear your name, prove that you didn't destroy that bridge."

Jamien shrugged one shoulder, not impressed. "Eh, I'm sure Kinzie can figure it out."

"I literally have the world at my fingertips," Matt stressed.

Jamien was eager to shoot this version of Matt - would it bleed or explode into pixel bits? "Little vague Matt, gotta do better."

"You tell me the name of a company and it becomes property of the Saints. You get your empire back...and I get to walk away."

'So, he wants to live...' Jamien made a show of scratching his head and looking disinterested. "If that's all you can do..."

Matt hesitated and, judging by the way he squirmed, it was something good. "I-I can do better." He cleared his throat and scooted away more. "Killbane has the girl, that mayor's daughter, at the Three Count Casino. He told me he was planning to hand her over to the police for the reward."

"And just why in the hell should I believe that?"

To conveniently answer his question, a large cyber screen popped up on the side of them. It was Killbane's office. Killbane stood behind his desk, in that awful green suit, hands behind his back facing away from the camera. Denitra, dressed in one of his tall t-shirts and her horrible tie-dye pajama bottoms, sat in a chair in front of the desk. Her hands and feet were free to move, but there were two Luchadores behind her with guns trained on her.

"I thought you'd be happy to get away from the Saints, Miss Fuller." Killbane's voice grated on Jamien's nerves as if the man had smoked twelve packs of cigarettes a day.

Denitra didn't respond.

Killbane chuckled and turned around, showcasing that fucking wrestling mask. "It's okay to have mixed feelings about this. It must be very hard to decide which of us is the lesser of two evils, but," he slowly walked around the desk towards her, "I assure you, while it would be much easier to just keep you at my side, it would be in my best interest if I made sure you make it home safely - your father would appreciate it." His meaty fingers captured a lock of her hair and rolled it between his index and middle finger.

Anger and a fresh wave of adrenaline rushed through Jamien. "If this is a lie, I will hunt you down and thoroughly enjoy turning you inside out and picking you apart, very slowly."

Matt paled, turning his skin notebook paper white. "Literally or figuratively?"

"Literally." Jamien looked up towards the inky cyber sky. "Kinzie! Get me out of here!"

Within a blink of his eye, Jamien was looking at Kinzie, Pierce, and Oleg. None of them had a reassuring look on their face. "Is he telling the truth?"