When the plane finally landed in Vegas, Rebecca and I were immediately greeted to the sounds of sirens and flashing lights. The pouring rain's sound melted into the sirens and screaming. Turns out, TJ went a little overboard.
Mark was in critical condition, and was being rushed to the hospital, and TJ had to flee the scene. Luckily for us, it meant Mark hasn't been able to say anything, or if he has, he hasn't figured out that Rebecca and I were behind him, but he already knew that.
However, a new problem arose. The police were investigating and interviewing everyone that left the plane. Y'know… the plane that Rebecca and I were still on. I had to think fast if I was going to get us out of the situation.
The police were stationed right by the exit, with flight attendants guarding the other exits. Couldn't sneak out. The police were simply asking people questions, some ID, and flight ticket. Luckily, I thought of this. While I purchased the wigs, I also made copies of different fake IDs for Rebecca, TJ and I with all the different wigs. Wasn't cheap, but I knew I'd need it in the long run.
I pulled out the fake ID and handed it to Rebecca. She held it up to her face and read it, then punched me in the arm.
"Valerie Peacock? "
I smirked.
"Not so fast, Gary Peacock has something he needs to figure out first."
We were too far back to hear the questions that the officers were asking people, but I could read their lips and figure them out.
Basic questions, who are you, where you from, stuff on the IDs, etc. Luckily, I made ours easy to remember. We're siblings who came from the local college back in Virginia. Right now, we're on fall break.
"Follow my lead."
I told Rebecca and strolled up to one of the officers.
"Hello, sir. ID and ticket, please."
I pulled out my fake ID and ticket and handed them to the officer with a surge of confidence.
"Here you go, officer, my sister and I are excited to enjoy our break. Always wanted to go to Vegas," I looked out past the officer and furrowed my brow. "Uhh, what happened?"
"We're questioning people on the flight. There's been what we can only assume to be an attempted murder. Motive is unknown, likely personal. The perpetrator escaped, however, you know of those 3 kids recently put on the FBI most wanted list?"
I nodded, following the story.
"Yeah, the kids that attacked that kid and his father, are you saying they're here?"
He nodded.
"Seems so. We're checking to see if anyone here matches their description. You and your sister are free to go, Mr. Peacock. Enjoy your vacation."
I grabbed Rebecca's hand and my ID and ticket.
"Thanks, officer! Actually, I'm studying criminal psychology at college. Could I help this case while I'm here? Get some firsthand experience? I want to become a detective sometime in the future!"
The officer looked taken aback, then put on a pleasant expression, his face softened.
"Yeah, of course, kid. Any help we can get right now would be great. Not a lot of people out here know what they're doing," The officer brought out a business card and handed it to me, which I happily accepted after pocketing my ID and ticket. "Give me a call once you're settled in here, and I'll give you the rundown and any leads we have."
"Thanks, officer!"
Rebecca and I successfully escaped the airplane, and now my next plan was set in motion. Once we were on the ground with our bags, Rebecca slipped her hand in mine.
"Well played, big brother."
I chuckled.
"We're not doing incest role-play, That'd be gross."
She laughed now.
"Oh, good. I was going to make fun of you if so. Anyway, when'd you have time to make the fake IDs?"
"I spent all night getting them forged when I got the wigs. I slipped out while you guys were sleeping, since I predicted something like this would happen. I have more, one for each of us in each wig."
She nodded, starting to understand the weight of my brilliance.
"Wow, you foresaw something like this even back then? What else did you do that night that I should know about?"
I smirked.
"A couple things, but you'll know what they are, if we need them."
"Impressive. So, what's next?"
I looked ahead.
"Well, I'm pretty hungry."
…
Rebecca and I finally arrived at one of the hotels I rented out before arriving, in order to make it harder for the Syndicate to track my purchases. However, to be safe, we'll be hopping around each hotel every night.
We had just finished eating, and I was getting ready to call up the officer we had met on the plane, since I finally purchased another phone.
A weird wave of paranoia rushed over me. The cops here probably aren't dumb. So how did he not recognize my face? But at the same time… why would he treat Rebecca and I to lunch?
It's so strange…
I focused back on the scenery, although I wasn't paying much attention to the officer himself, I still caught glimpses. My memory works like a camera, except a camera that's always recording. It's not perfect memory, but I can recall pictures with 100% accuracy up to about a year. I'm also able to store certain in my long-term memory and pull it out whenever I need it.
A very useful ability I got from one of my parents. Not sure which one, though.
Anyway, I focused back to the scene of the restaurant. I searched over the image I had pulled up of the officer, looking for anything that could be of note. Something like a wire or a walkie. Literally anything.
After going over everything in that conversation, there was genuinely nothing that seemed off-putting.
I've decided that I'll be calling the officer.
I pulled out my new phone and called the number the officer gave to me on a sheet of paper.
"Hey, officer. It's me, the kid from earlier."
And yet, before the voice even responded. I knew it wouldn't be the officer.
The voice that came through the speakers was distorted, and extremely low pitch. Nothing remotely close to the officer's voice.
"Hello, Jeffrey. I know who you are."
"You're not the officer."
I spew, unable to come up with a better answer.
The voice chuckled.
"No, but I do appreciate the performance back at the airport. Valerie Peacock? Clever. The cops had no idea, but I did. I've been watching."
I stuttered. My world was shattered. Someone else? Other than the Syndicate? Unless… this was the Syndicate, but I'm still alive. Can't be the FBI, I would still arrive at the Syndicate. So…
Something beyond the Syndicate? What could that possibly be?
"What is that you want from me."
"I want to see how far you're willing to go. I want to see what you're capable of."
The voice was calm and calculating, almost as if it knew the effect the words would have on me.
This was a game.
"Tomorrow. 10am sharp. The casino across the street from the restaurant you were at earlier. Just you. You can leave your pretty little girlfriend behind. Do not worry, we plan to leave her alone. This will be your first test. If you fail this. Well, look behind you."
With that, the caller hung up. Before I could say anything.
I spun around to the window behind me, my soul dropped to my knees as I saw it. Rebecca let out a gasp as she saw it, too.
There it was, across the street, in another hotel window, a red laser dot flickered, then it vanished.
Whoever this is can kill me whenever they want.
They're watching. Waiting.
Rebecca grabbed my arm.
"Jeffrey," She whispered. "What are we going to do?"
I smiled.
"Well, I'm going to do what I do best."
She grimaced, knowing what that meant.
"So..?"
She asked, although already knowing the answer.
"I'm going."
I said while marching towards the door.
She grabbed me by the collar and pulled me back.
"Wait. Where do you think you're off to? We still have magic items to find, and the caller said to meet tomorrow. Not today."
I sighed.
"Yes, he did say that. However, there's nothing stopping me from scouting out the place before they set up whatever it is they want to. As for the magic items, it is crucial we locate them ASAP. However, my life is also at stake, as you've seen. Now, he did say that you were safe for now, but I don't trust that."
"So, what're you going to do about that?"
"Simple."
I quickly walked over to the desk and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, a plan already formulated in my head.
"I'm going to do something. Can't tell you because this room could be tapped."
I stuff the paper and pen into my pocket and went over to the kitchen. The hotel provides free plastic cups for us, so I filled one up and sent it down on the table in the living room.
"We'll need this for later."
As I was doing all this, Rebecca stood around with her chin in her hand, trying to figure out what it was that I was doing.
"Alright, let's get to it."
I walked out into the hallway and pressed the paper flat against the wall next to our room, then slid down to around my waist and covered it with my body.
No camera would be able to see this.
I wrote on the paper:
The only thing you will ever text me is: "Dinner at 8?" Burn this when you read it.
If someone takes her and uses her phone to try to make it seem like she's texting me, I'll know. We also can track each other's phones thanks to an app we installed earlier, another failsafe.
Next, I quickly crumpled up the paper and walked back into the room. I tossed it into the trash can and made a gesture with my eyes towards it, making sure Rebecca would see. After that, I left the pen uncapped on the kitchen counter.
For the final stage, I moved a small side table up close to the door and left the cup of water on it. Since these doors open inwards, it was easy to set up. I put the tablet right so if you open it too far, it'll hit the table and spill the water everywhere, meaning anyone that isn't me would spill the water when opening the door. Not only does this give Rebecca a warning, but also helps me to if anyone decides to enter our room.
"Alright, that should cover it. Well, I'm off now!"
Rebecca gave me a quick hug before I turned and left.
…
Vegas neon flickered in puddles as I walked down the street, my mind already working through the next steps. That's when I saw him.
TJ.
Leaning against a wall outside a liquor store, hoodie up, hands buried in his pockets. He looked like hell, like a guy who just survived a bloodbath on an airplane and had nowhere left to go. His left hand was shaking, the adrenaline still wearing off, and there was a cut on his cheek, probably from Mark's last attempt at fighting back.
His eyes locked onto me.
"Jeffrey," he muttered. "You left me."
I sighed, sliding my hands into my pockets. "Had to. Things got messy."
"You think?" he scoffed, rubbing his face. "I had to bail. If they catch me, it's game over."
I nodded. "You're not wrong."
Silence stretched between us. Then, TJ leaned in, lowering his voice.
"So, what happened? Is there a reason why you and Rebecca aren't staying at the hotel we agreed on?"
I paused, choosing my next words carefully.
"Things came up, and…"
I faltered. Acting like it hurt me.
"Tell me."
TJ insisted.
"Well, we don't need you anymore."
He froze.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that you're a liability. Think about it TJ, all I needed was a clear path to get away and for you to get away. Now we have the police and maybe even the FBI hot on our trail. This didn't have to happen the way it did."
TJ flared up, standing back on his feet and loomed over me.
"This is my fault? MY FAULT?"
He roared, making the ground shake a little.
"Jeffrey, you left me. Alone. Since you didn't buy another phone, I had no way of contacting you. I thought you died. That made me stressed. And when I get stressed, I can't think. All my memories cloud up in my brain and things get fuzzy. I can't focus. That's when I get angry and let my fists do the talking. I need you to be there for me, otherwise I lose control. Jeffrey, even right now, I'm this close to breaking."
TJ turned from a boiling hot rage to a sad man with nowhere to turn.
"That's just it, TJ. All I'm hearing is you needing me, it's not the other way around," I pinched my forehead and turned to face the side. "Look, TJ. You know I trust you, but this… this isn't a world where fists solve problems. Not anymore. It's not that I don't want you around, I just… don't need you to protect me. And if you can't see that… maybe you're better off on your own."
TJ cupped his face in his hands, sobbing.
"BUT I WANT TO HELP!"
He turned and faced me with his big sad eyes.
"You can't just say that and make me magically change my mind. That's not how it works in the real world, which is where we're playing now. There are bigger things at play now, and blindly throwing punches and beating up our enemies won't work. We don't need the added stress of having to deal with the FBI or the police everywhere we go."
"I'm going to prove my usefulness."
TJ turned away, fists clenching, then unclenching. For a moment, I thought he might hit me. Instead, he just whispered, barely loud enough to hear.
"You'll see."
Then he walked off, and the rain started to pour.
Whatever the case, my job here is done. There are things I have left to do.
…
I entered the casino to lights blinding my eyes. Once my eyes finally adjusted to the scene, my brain was hit with sensory overload.
Brights lights of every color under the rainbow hit my eyes, loud music pumped in my eardrums and reverberated down my spine. Everywhere I turned, people were doing something. To my left a little, some middle-aged man in a suit playing blackjack and smacking the table because of how much he was down. On the right, a young woman, probably around 20, playing pool against some kid who probably shouldn't be allowed in here in the first place.
The mission was simply to get a feel of the place, any potential hiding spots, secret exits, and anything else of the sort. There was an old guy towards the back, playing chess against himself. What caught my attention was how every move he made was perfect, both white and black were making the best moves I could find. Playing every move I would've. This old man was calculating the same probabilities I was, at a similar speed to me.
How peculiar.
I walked over to the table, and the old man sized me up and grinned.
"Wow, you're really clever."
I blinked.
"I'm sorry?"
The old man shook his hand and waved it off.
"Sorry, they told me you were good, but you're already beyond my expectations."
I sat there for a second, stunned.
What?
"Who is they?"
Was the only question I could pick apart from the 17 others in my head.
The old man chuckled.
"Well, you play chess, right?"
He asked, holding up a pawn.
I looked down at the board.
Perfect stalemate. Neither side could make a move without immediately losing. It was almost beautiful, in a sick kind of way.
"Yes, I do. But, I think our game will reach the same state as the one on this board."
The old man gave me a mischievous smirk.
"Well, that's good, because that's what we're going to do."
"What?"
Before I could react any further, the old man wiped the pieces off the board, ruining the position.
"I hope you remember the position, and good luck calculating exactly how to get there."
I scrambled, quickly recalling my recent memories from my internal storage, and pulled up the image I took of the board from when I was looking at it just now.
Perfect, now all I have to do is calculate the best moves each side has to make up until then.
While I was thinking all of this, the old man set the board back up, putting all the pieces back where they belonged.
"Aren't you going to help an old man out?"
He said with pleading eyes.
"No, it's your mess. Plus, I need time to calculate all of this."
The old man chuckled.
"Correct answer."
Correct?
Answer?
Never mind that, I was about halfway through the position before I realized something.
If both sides played perfectly, white would win. We would reach the position, however it'd be my turn to move, meaning that I would be the one to break the barrier and lose the game.
How could this be the case? I calculated all the moves perfectly.
The old man must've seen the look on my face, because he started cackling.
"Haha! I was right! You aren't as sharp as you're made out to be."
At this point, he had finished setting up the board and had already set the clocks as well.
A minute each.
He started his clock, pushed the e pawn, then pressed the timer button.
My move.
It was now or never, I had to figure out the correct move.
If I got this one move wrong, it would mean the loss of the game.
The old man only said that I had to recreate the position, however, I was watching his game for a while. When recreating the position, as I just mentioned, depending on which side is supposed to move, it can mean the loss of a game, or the win. Meaning that the right side had to be moving when we reached that position. That side, was his.
Also, there's a chance that if I win this game, he would give me more information, which would be useful for the mission.
The clock was ticking, I didn't have a lot of time to think, and each second I didn't move was a second wasted.
What did I do wrong? Is there a better move I missed, or is there…
No.
It can't be.
I understood now what I had to do.
There was a way, and I finally figured it out.
I made the move with 10 seconds left on my clock.
The correct answer was a metaphor. Whatever game is going on behind the scenes here, is trying to tell me something.
The correct move was that I had to make an imperfect move. Purposefully make a move that was worse than some of the others. The old man wanted to show me something. He wanted to show me that sometimes the correct doesn't always make sense.
As the game continued, I had to make my moves in less than a second, literally.
Luckily, I already mapped out the entire game in my head, and whenever it was my turn, I was already ready to move the correct piece.
By move 86, we did it. A perfect stalemate, however, it was white's turn to move.
The old man lost.
He looked at the board in shock, his jaw hanging off its hinges.
"Wow, you really figured it out."
I looked up in triumph, wiping the sweat from my brow.
"Wow, that was hard. Probably the hardest I've ever had to think up until now. Aligning myself perfectly like that was difficult, but I found the right move."
The old man nodded, then turned back to face me.
"Well, a deal's a deal. Think about this game, kid. You already figured out how it plays into the bigger picture, but have you thought about the bigger picture?"
I paused.
"Do you mean the final fight against the Syndicate?"
The old man shook his head.
"Bigger."
And with that, he stood up and walked away.
I tried following him, but he disappeared the second he left my field of view.
I didn't know what he meant, but I was starting to like where this was going.
An ultimate test of intelligence, me versus the world.
Of course, like always, I'm going to win.
…
The next day finally arrived, and I made my way back to the casino. No surprise encounter with TJ, thankfully. When I got back to the hotel, Rebecca was fine, but didn't find any useful information. I decided to not tell her about the old man, didn't want to freak her out.
As I walked into the casino today, something was different.
No blinding lights, no hustle and bustle, no loud and annoying music.
In the very center of the casino, sat one man.
The officer.
He looked up at me slowly.
"The king never moves first."
With that, a shot rang out and hit the officer square in the head, and he exploded in front of my very eyes.
Behind him, the executioner. Slowly walking from the shadows, a beautiful thematic entrance, clapping.
"Well, done."
It was the old man, except now he wasn't old. He looked like a normal guy, probably late 20s, and was decked out in a full robe.
"You're special. The man speaks highly of you, and now I know why."
I froze. I couldn't move. Someone was just murdered right in front of me, and I was supposed to act like it was nothing?
"What do you want from me?"
I checked out what could see me and couldn't yesterday. All potential exits were in perfect view of snipers from other buildings, not to mention if my exit was going to be blocked, having men guard the entrances wasn't a difficult task, it's a casino after all.
"Well, Jeffrey, it's less about what I want from you, and more about what the man wants from you."
"Well, then… who's this man you speak of?"
Someone who speaks highly of me..?
Was TJ behind all this, did I really break him that hard?
Viktor? Fredrick? Someone else?
All this didn't make sense.
I needed more to go of off before I continued.
"He speaks highly of me? Yet you watched me almost lose a game of chess?"
The executioner smirked.
"You won a game of chess. You almost lost something else."
He took more slow, deliberate steps towards me, closing the distance. His shoes dipped in the blood of the officer, which was still dripping across the floor.
"This is the part where you ask the wrong question, and I have to kill you."
I grinned.
"Oh yeah? What's the right question, then?"
"That's what I want to hear from you, Jeffrey."
I thought for a moment.
"What's the next move?"
"Good choice."
Just then, a light turned on, revealing a stage behind us.
"Are you willing to bet your life?"
I turned and looked at the executioner, a gleam of confidence glowed from my eyes.
"I am always willing to die to win."
The executioner gleamed.
"Good, because we are about to play a game of death. Winner lives, loser dies."
This was it. Something I could've only hoped for in my wildest dreams. I was about to bet my entire life on my ability to outsmart someone I've never met before. This game…
This would change my life forever.