Authors: Stuart Keane
No words were said. Delta was speechless. Blood dripped from his face, forming a small pool on the floor below him. The soldiers remained at attention. Heather and Kieran looked at one another in silence.
The new arrival turned to them, a smile on his face, displaying his perfect teeth. “I do apologise. My name is Mr. Jones. All of this puts me in a predicament. How I hate unnecessary problems.” He shot a dirty look at Delta. Heather and Kieran still said nothing. Jones carried on: “I won’t go into specifics. You know what’s been happening here, right? Delta told you, we saw it and it was archived. He let the cat out of the bag, didn’t he?”
Kieran and Heather nodded.
“Yes, that’s a problem. Fortunately it has an easy solution. Now Delta has won The Game. The prize is a place on the board. As distinguished, discreet and wealthy as we are, some of us still maintain a sense of decency, despite what this may look like from your point of view. Which means we can’t offer him the position.”
Delta coughed. He wiped his face with the back of his hand. “You’re joking, right? I just went through hell to win this fucking—”
“—Silence!” Jones turned to Delta, shutting him up instantly. “One more word from you, Delta, and I will snap your face in a heartbeat, you got that? Do
not
interrupt me.”
Delta went quiet. The soldiers all looked at him, still standing to attention.
“Anyway, where was I? So Delta won, but because of his stupid decision to involve his family, his application is hereby terminated. Which leaves me in a quandary. But, I'm prepared to do something I have never done before. So bear with me.”
Mr. Jones reached into his inside pocket and pulled out two thick brown envelopes. He held them between his fingers and tapped them against his palm. “First, a question. Delta here, that's your father, Ms. Mason, is very wealthy. If I sanctioned it, would you be the executor of his will? Meaning that all his assets would be transferred to you?”
Heather’s eyes widened. “You mean, give me his money and estate?”
Mr. Jones nodded. “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”
“Which means he would have to die?” Heather raised her eyebrow.
“Not at all. He would simply sign everything over to you. I can make him do it. I can be very persuasive.”
Heather bit her lip. She looked at her father, a broken man in a shredded suit and a facemask of blood. She thought about her mother. “No, no, I wouldn’t want it, thanks. He can keep his dirty money. I – we – just want to go home.”
Jones nodded again. “That’s okay, I understand. Now, Kieran, I understand that you were brought here under false pretences. In other words, you aren’t even related to this man. I believe this to be correct because a very expensive private investigator told me so. His actual son is in prison in America, so I don’t know what he was doing with you. I can only apologise for that.”
Kieran didn’t move. He nodded once. “I think that’s true, yes.”
“Excellent. That was easy. Now, first of all, on behalf of The Company, I apologise. Yes, we bring people here for sport and entertainment. This may be frowned upon and considered highly unethical, but that’s why we don’t stick it on YouTube and the accessible internet. The last thing we need is the police breathing down our necks. I'm about to offer the pair of you two choices. Now, before I do so, you have to realise that whatever choice you make, you will not be returning to your original lives. As nice a guy as I am, this must be contained. I simply can’t let you go home.”
Heather and Kieran looked at one another. For some reason, this turn of events didn’t surprise them. Heather stepped forward. The clones all moved their heads a fraction to keep their eyes on her. Mr. Jones didn’t flinch. Heather stood a few feet in front of him. “Listen here, dickhead. I have an army of clones here, waiting to shred you to pieces, or do the same to any one of your GI Joes here, if you lay a hand on me. You will return us to our normal lives pronto.”
Mr. Jones laughed. “I understand your anger, Ms. Mason, I really do. Let me tell you my position in all this. First, if I snap these fingers these clones will be obliterated in seconds. Then a second wave will come, and the same thing will happen. And a third and a fourth. In fact, in less time than it takes you to sneeze, I can burn this facility to the ground and no one will know it was ever here. It will be another World Trade Center. Gone, kaput, zeroed. Have you got that?”
Heather said nothing.
“I earn more money in an hour then you do in a month. I have bosses who take zero bullshit from anyone. I saw a guy wipe his nose on his sleeve once and he was dead within ten minutes. I see shit every day that isn’t remotely human, but because of the nature of
my
business, I accept it. I cherish it. I worked hard to earn it. The only reason you aren’t full of holes right now is because I sanctioned your safety. I nearly sent in a hit team to shoot every single one of you fuckers. But I have a heart, somewhere in this chest of mine. I saw what Delta was doing here and I thought, why not do the right thing? The opportunity is here, so why the fuck not? Opportunities, true opportunities, are hard to come by. Do you understand?”
Heather nodded. Kieran stepped up beside her and asked, “What do you want?”
The man in charge smiled once more. “It’s more a question of what do
you
want. In these envelopes are your futures. Two possible outcomes. I have never given this chance to anyone before, so choose wisely. You won’t get a chance to change your minds.”
They both nodded. Delta was seething in the background. The soldier gripped his arm, controlling his movements. Jones held out an envelope in each hand.
“Option one: you both come and work for us. You take Delta’s place on the board. You will be paid to be part of The Company. Upfront payment of one million. You earn half a million a year to start, with a chance to upgrade depending on your role. You will be instant millionaires with all the luxury you can ask for. But, in return, you have to do anything we ask. And some of the work is dicey, not for the faint of heart.”
There was silence in the room.
“Option two: your father has a net worth of a billion pounds. This could rise with the invention and distribution of these fellows surrounding us. Now, I gather you don’t want his money. But we want his products. We would happily give you a billion pounds between you, we’d take the money from your father to compensate us and give you new identities, new homes, new cars and the right to do what you want, hassle free. The only thing we would do is monitor you to ensure you do not speak a word about all this. If you do, don’t expect to live very long. I believe, from my sources, that one other person escaped The Game today, so it is a good day to be a player. This offer will never happen again. But you go free. You can’t go back to your normal lives, but it’s the closest to having your freedom you will get. We can’t have people asking questions if you both return to normality.”
Heather and Kieran found it hard to contain their astonishment. Heather staggered and Kieran caught her. Delta was fuming behind them, wanting to say something, still held immobile by the soldier.
“One more thing, guys. I've watched the footage. It’s clear that you are attracted to one another. Don’t let your judgment of us get in the way of a potential future happy life together. Choose wisely.”
Kieran looked at Heather.
Delta stood up. “What the fuck are you doing? This is absurd, you can’t let them walk.”
Mr. Jones turned towards Delta. “I’m not letting them walk, I’m setting them free. Free from reins you strapped on them for your own selfish game. You realise how many sponsors we lost because of you in those last few hours? Your worth will not even begin to pay back what we have lost.”
Delta started to say something else before Jones stopped him: “If I were you, Delta, I would think carefully about
ever
interrupting me again. Now, shut up. Boris, if he moves again, knock him out.”
Boris, the soldier beside Delta, nodded once. Delta remained quiet. He sank back to a squatting position.
Mr. Jones turned to Heather.
Heather knew they had no choice. Her father had left them in this crazy position. They would have a free pass whichever way they chose to go. Which was a much better future prospect than they had been expecting thirty minutes beforehand.
Mr. Jones smiled. He tapped the envelopes. “So. . . What’s it going to be?”
FORTY-THREE
Kathryn finished her second coffee of the morning. It was just after nine on a warm summer’s day. She gave up on the French newspaper after the third page. She would learn to read French properly, it would just take some time. She stood up and leant over the balcony, taking in the view. The sun burned gently on her arms, neck and shoulders. She admired the sunrise, a smile on her face.
Three months ago, the plastic tunnel had taken her and Hannah to freedom. The soldiers didn’t follow. No one shot them, they were home free. An Audi had been waiting for the two women. Hannah had explained that it was Iain’s car. He had little hope of escaping The Game, but he had made preparations in case that unlikely event happened. The route home was even programmed into the car’s GPS.
The impossible had happened.
And, afterwards, Kathryn had realised her dream of living in France, and it had happened sooner than expected.
Although Hannah had wanted to be taken home. Kathryn had insisted she come with her, because she was worried about her safety. But Hannah had declined the offer. Hannah waved to her friend as she drove away after taking her home, her future uncertain. Kathryn didn’t ask for her phone number, and she never saw Hannah again.
On the route back to her home, Kathryn had stopped for a rest. She curled up on the back seat of the car and slept for thirteen hours. When she woke up, she had a crick in her neck, but the sleep had done her good. The subsequent drive home was relaxed and quiet.
Once she was at home, she was worried that The Company would find her. But she didn’t notice anyone suspicious following her, no characters in black suits or shady looking characters hanging around her neighbourhood. After forty-eight hours, she decided to sell the car. She didn’t need it, and Iain had obviously gifted it to her, hers to use or sell as she wished.
When she opened the car’s boot, Kathryn found a box, similar in size to a laptop. It had her name on it in small black letters. TO KATHRYN, it had read.
A bunch of keys were inside. Four folders sat within, each with a photograph attached and several sheets of paper inside. A photo of a man, Asian in origin, sat on top. A blonde woman's photo was next, coupled with a good-looking man's, then Kathryn's and finally, a demure looking man with a dog collar. Detailed notes on each, neatly written by hand, detailed their lives.
Kathryn wondered who they were.
Francisco and Heather and Kieran and Rupert
. Did Iain know them? Were they the other contestants? Kathryn shook the thought from her head and placed them aside.
There was also a letter, handwritten from Iain himself. It instructed her to sell the car and his house and use the money for her future. He also gave her the keys to his French home. Even posthumously, Iain had kept his promise. After a month, everything was sold and Kathryn was booking a one way trip to France.
That had been three months ago. Kathryn had a tan now, a basic grasp of French and an obsession with Brie cheese. She had Iain to thank for her new life. She never heard again from Hannah. And The Company never sent anyone after her.
And she made a decision to never tell anyone about her ordeal. She had seen enough conspiracy movies to know that to do so would be a bad idea.
After a year, she met Patrice. They married within twelve months.
Three years later she gave birth to her son. She called him Iain.
***
After their terrible experiences, Heather and Kieran found life difficult at first.
It took them a year to finally realise their feelings for one another.
Six months after that, Heather told Kieran about the erotic dream she’d had about him soon after their first meeting, confirming the strong feelings she had for him.
Kieran asked her to marry him a week later.
They attributed the delay in admitting their true feelings about each other to the trauma of the incidents they’d shared. Neither of them spoke about the horrors they’d experienced, everything was too raw, and, besides, it all seemed too bizarre to accept anyway. The fact that they had a billion pounds sitting in an account, for them to spend as they wish, was still weighing heavily on their minds. What was weirder was getting used to their new names: Frank Smith and Charlotte Sutherland.
In the privacy of their new American five-bedroom home, complete with pool, sauna and three-car garage, they would use their original names to address each other. If anyone asked why, they explained that ‘Heather’ and ‘Keiran’ were pet names they used. Not that many people asked. The couple lived a fairly secluded life, a desire for solitude perhaps being a reaction to the events of The Game.
One day, Kieran tried searching for The Game online, but didn’t find it. He shared his frustration with Heather: “All this money they’ve given us, and they won’t even let us view what happened.”
“Why would you want to?”
Kieran didn’t have an answer for that. For several nights he stayed up late, searching the internet, constantly refreshing his Google search with new keywords. But there was no trace. Nothing. The Game did not exist. Which is what The Company wanted the world to think.
He gave up his search after two weeks. The couple put the past behind them. They started enjoying the lives that had so nearly been taken from them. They never found out what happened to Delta, no one seemed to know. They never heard again from their saviour, Mr. Jones, either. But he was watching them, they could somehow feel it.
When Kieran/Frank proposed, Heather/Charlotte said yes immediately.
After all the trauma they had been through together, they knew that they would be together forever after.