The beep from the intercom on her desk drew Samantha’s gaze away from her computer. It was most irregular for her secretary to bother her in the afternoons, especially with a deposition looming. Taking a moment to finish writing down her last thought, Samantha reached over and pushed the blinking red button.
Samantha: “Yes Katrina?” she allowed a note of irritation to filter into the short question.
Katrina: “Your cousins are here to see you Ms. Snow,” came the heavy German accent of the overly perky intern. Katrina was new, and eager to please, and incredibly clueless. With Berta on maternity leave, Samantha had been dealing with a rotation of interns vying for her favor and none had lasted more than a few days.
Looking up at the clock on the wall Samantha paused to take note of the time in her planner. She wrote down 15:07 as she closed her documents on her screen.
Samantha: “Send them in please.”
She surveyed her tidy desk. She knew something was wrong and she tapped a button on her keyboard. Her screen flickered twice, and a password screen came up. Samantha straightened her steely blue business suit and swiveled in her chair, turning to meet whoever was about to walk into her office.
When her door opened, and three men walked in, Samantha just smiled politely at the secretary and motioned for the men to sit as the door closed behind them. Two of them remained standing while the third took a seat directly in front of her.
Samantha: “Gentlemen.” She placed her hands on her desk and looked at them each in turn. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”
The man that had seated himself reached into the coat pocket of his well-tailored suit and drew out an envelope. He tossed it on the mahogany desk in front of her, but she refrained from doing more than glancing at the envelope as it came to rest inches from her fingertips.
“There are some rather interesting pictures in there,” said the man leaning back and resting his ankle on his knee. His accent was decidedly not German, which is likely why Katrina had bought the story of them being cousins. Samantha made a mental note to get a different intern in the morning. “Pictures that a young, ambitious lawyer of your renown might find very troublesome, should they fall into the wrong hands,“ continued the man as he eyed her for a reaction.
Samantha pushed the envelope back across her desk with a single finger and leaned back in her chair, taking on a relaxed pose. “I assure you whoever you have in those photographs, it is not me.” This wasn’t the first time someone had tried to bribe or blackmail her, and it wasn’t going to be the last, but she sure as hell would not let these goons waltz in and bully her. Samantha had worked far too hard to get this job in Berlin to do anything so stupid as to jeopardize it in the manner these men were implying.
She was more than a little irritated when the man gave her a sympathetic smile. “Oh Ms. Snow these are not pictures of you.” There was a pause as the man’s smile twisted into a cruel grin. “These pictures are of your brother.” And just like that these men, who had just barely caused a wrinkle in her evening, went from mild annoyance to immediate threat.
Samantha’s features fell into a practiced blank canvas as she picked up the envelope. She saw a look of confidence settle over the man before her as she opened the envelope, and she squashed the urge to grimace as she pulled out three black and white pictures.
The pictures were not of the best quality, but it was clear that the dark liquid pooling beneath the man in the photos was his own blood, likely a result of the savage looking gashes that crisscrossed his torso. His hair was plastered against his forehead and the left side of his face was swollen; one eye reduced to a bulging slit that disfigured the handsome face she remembered so fondly from only two years ago.
James had been there to see her off to Berlin. Always the watchful brother. Except with her job as a lawyer it was usually her watching out for him, what with James being a runner. Even so, he was good, and she rarely had to do more than file a few forms to clear up any misunderstandings, but this was bad. Where was the rest of his team?
She flipped to the next picture two pictures and was glad of her courtroom face as she saw images of her brother strung up painfully with ropes, his arms obviously straining from the weight of his own body pulling against the restraints. Again, blood was pooling beneath him, running in rivulets down his stomach and legs. Samantha was glad the pictures were in black and white, or she may have been sick. She was not used to seeing this type of thing, and imagining her brother in this situation was wreaking havoc on her.
Breathing in slowly and exhaling, she carefully built a wall around the part of her that wanted to break down and cry in terror for her brother. Samantha set the pictures on her desk face up, turning a cold gaze on the men before her, not hint of her inner turmoil visible on her smooth features.
The man before her frowned, looking from the pictures to her face. Clearly, they had expected more of a reaction from her, and a thin smile touched Samantha’s lips.
Samantha: “Well gentlemen.” Her tone never stopped being polite.
There was a dangerous glint in her eyes as she looked at them from beneath her eyelashes. “Why don’t we cut to the chase and get down to why you have my brother.”
The two men still standing shifted at the change in her tone and she gave them a condescending look. “At ease boys. I’m not going to murder you in my office. I need you alive to get James back in one piece.”
The man in the chair before her looked uncomfortable and changed his posture so his coat fell open to reveal a gun holster. “You’re bluffing,” he said a little too quickly. “You’re just a lawyer. Your brother is the killer.”
Samantha let her smile spread across her face and spread her arms wide as she leaned back in her chair again. “Gentlemen. My patience grows thin. Please,” she snapped sharply as the man started to speak again and she cut him off with a flick of her wrist.
Samantha: “Tell me what it is you want in exchange for my brother or get out.”
She leaned forward, pressing her hands against the desk, letting her blond hair fall around her face in a cascade as she narrowed her eyes. “But if you leave here, you’d better never stop looking over your shoulder. Because if you go now. I won’t rest until you and anyone you care for down to your favorite goldfish is dead and buried.” She watched them judging and weighing her words and she forced herself to fold her hands calmly on her desk as she waited for them to digest her words.
“I didn’t sign up for dying,” muttered one of the guys standing up. His words seemed to jar the other out of his thoughts as he squinted at her. He nodded once as if making up his mind.
“Your services are required.” His words were clipped, and he reached into another pocket and slid a piece of paper onto her desk. Be at this address tomorrow at 7:15 am. Your brother’s life in exchange for your cooperation.” He stood and Samantha eyed the paper.
Samantha: “No,” she said although it pained her. “I don’t believe you.”
The man let out an ugly laugh and sneered. “I don’t give a shit what you believe. We were told to deliver the message. Be there or your brother dies.” He gave a shrug as if it mattered little to him. “Have a pleasant night Ms. Snow,” he said it as if it was an insult and with a snap of his fingers he turned and the other two followed him.
Once the door slammed shut behind them, Samantha’s shoulders sagged, and she took a ragged breath. She drew the paper closer to her and looked between the paper and the pictures of her brother, tears threatening to spill forth despite her efforts to keep them back. Wiping her cold fingers across her face she reached for the intercom and pressed the button for Katrina.
Katrina: “Yes Ms. Snow?” came the jarringly happy response.
Samantha: “Cancel the rest of my appointments for the day.”
Katrina: “But Ms. Snow!” came the startled voice. “The deposition is tomorrow. Herr Fleischer will not be pleased. He said-”
Samantha: “I know what he said,” Samantha snapped back letting her emotions get the best of her for a moment. “Call Abendroth. He’ll be able to do what is necessary.” She could almost feel the other woman’s fear through the intercom. “Katrina,” she prompted.
Katrina: “Y-yes. Fraulein.” Katrina was scared. She was slipping back into German. “It will be done as you say.” Samantha released the intercom and let her head sink into her hands, her elbows on either side of the pictures.
Samantha: “Oh James,” she whispered. “How am I supposed to help you get out of this one?”
Ms. Snow’s computer screen flickered in different colors for a few moments before going to an old-fashioned green and black command line interface. For at least 30 seconds it was blank before words began to appear across the screen. The grammar left something to be desired, as if the writer was in a hurry.
“Guten tag frau Snow; don’t worry about who I am for now just refer to me as Obelisk. Sure, the name is a bit absurd, but it simply makes this all a bit easier. So, you seem to be having a little bit of trouble with your brother, we have a mutual interest in the people who have taken him. Normally this type of information would cost you quite a bit however you getting involved will give me a unique opportunity to possibly solve a problem for me that has been outstanding for far too long. I’ll give you your first breadcrumb to follow. Within the anarchist-controlled portions of eastern Berlin just at the barrier of the 23rd precinct, there is a bar named “die Axt Mühle” or “the Axe Grinder” if you prefer. The man you are looking for was once a citizen of the United Northern Territories (UNT). He’s a magician of some power and was once a Shade, a dark ops runner, who was on a crew with the people I believe captured your brother. He should be easy to pick out for someone with your skills. His name is Alexander Reicher. He goes by the name “Iados” on the streets and won’t like someone bringing up his government issued name. I’ll be in contact and should you need me just search the Web for my secretary DarkSphinx, he’ll be able to pass any requests back onto me. I’ll be watching… “
After a few more moments the screen would flicker again and return to its normal state. As Ms. Snow quickly logged back into her machine everything appeared in place; none of her intrusion countermeasures had been tripped or disabled. The expertise that it would take to undertake such a feat was beyond even what most hot tech-heads would be able to pull off leaving such a feat to feel a bit magical. Whoever, or whatever, was represented by the name “Obelisk” wasn’t some Shade or high-end corporate tech-jockey. On her desktop would be a new folder named “Project Obelisk” and within it were four personnel reports from a classified UNT genetic modification and bioware enhancement project. The idea of the project was evidently to create completely self-sufficient magically attuned agents for highly questionable government wet work. Each agent had been enhanced with experimental bioware. Some enhancements allowed them to access the Other Side, a Web of virtual reality worlds stitched together, that sometimes flowed over the real world via augmented reality glasses or ocular implants. Others had chosen skin weaves that would resist damage or even boost their magical abilities. It was clear that this project was discontinued after control of the subjects became tenuous, and then non-existent. At best this information was dangerous to hold onto and at worst it pointed to a much darker link in James’ current predicament. Even worse was the fact that some of the technology had been developed jointly with Mars-Macro Corp and ForesTechnology. The reputation of ForesTechnology alone was enough for most people in the shadows to steer clear of them, and the fact they had control of their own sector of Berlin began to make the prospects of recovering Ms. Snow’s brother alive shrink by the moment.
Her intercom beeped loudly on her desk.
Katrina: “Miss Snow… a package just arrived for you. It’s from someone named Dark Sphinx, should I have security take a look at it first?”
It’s clear whoever was watching wanted to keep things moving in some haste. The question now was what would Ms. Snow choose to do with all that she had been presented?
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