The Inner Circle
"...to protect the Brotherhood with my life against all enemies. So help me God." I stood in the middle of a dimly lit room, my right hand raised, the left one placed on an old, frail bible, committing perjury.
Nearly one year had passed since I had seen Michael in the hospital. I had made it into the inner circles of the Brotherhood, far enough to receive now those secret words and information I would need to find their counterparts in the Matrix.
I had spent the past months denying myself completely. I had even started to date one of Hagen's daughters. Of course it was a purely platonic relationship, something that pleased Hagen very much. I had made clear that sex before marriage was something unthinkable for me.
I had gotten so used to lying that using his daughter to solidify my cover-up did not cause any headaches. In fact I had gotten used to so many things I could hardly tell wrong from right. Or my motifs from those of the Brotherhood and those of the Zion Intelligence Service.
Now the chairman embraced me as a welcome.
This was it. May God condemn my soul to hell for all the sins I had committed to get here, I didn't care. I had gotten so close to my goal, I would have done anything to keep going.
What goal?
That was indeed a very good question!
One I tried to evade constantly.
Not having time to meet either Gianni nor Flynn, canceling appointments minutes before they were due. Their request became more and more urgent but they had no means to press on me because that would have ruined my cover.
I was untouchable!
The knowledge of my utter safety kept me calm for a very long time.
Then they got me:
One of my clients in the psych ward, Garner, had been found dead, killed with an overdose of synthetic morphine. The syringe used carried my fingerprints. I got arrested under suspect of murder.
I have never been in jail before. The psych ward seemed to be paradise in comparison to the cells here! Even the interrogation-room to which I was brought after 36 hours was a relief. Well, the room was, not the procedure.
"Isn't it true, Carl, that Garner never let an opportunity slip away to give you a hard time?"
"Most of them do. They are sick, that's why they are in the psych ward." I answered.
"Not all of them throw their feces at you. Or deliberately vomit over your shoes. Huh?"
"No." I admitted. Garner had been an asshole! He did everything to humiliate his wards. Especially me, for whatever reason.
"Monday you were alone and you decided it was enough. You pretended to give him his vitamin-shots and killed him with an overdose of morphine. He trusted you and you killed him in cold blood. Wasn't it so?" the officer's hand slammed down on the table right beside me. My frayed nerves made me jump.
"No!"
"You killed him! You killed a dependant!"
"NO!" I yelled with a shaky voice. I was on the edge of a breakdown. I had been forced to spend one and a half day in an overcrowded cell full of crude guys with zero privacy. After witnessing a near-rape I didn't even dare to use the toilet, or to close my eyes.
The door opened.
"Thank you, officers. We're in charge now." Gianni and Flynn! My very personal saviors.
The cops left with a pout. Flynn let me use the bathroom, then gave me a coffee. It was obvious they had knowledge of how badly the last hours had been for me.
"Carl, why wouldn't you come to the last meeting?" Gianni asked with concern.
I was startled. What a change in subject!
"I – uh, I had no time. Work and all..." I managed to say.
"Listen Carl, you need to re-focus on your goals. We can get you out of here in no time if you agree to cooperate. But if you go astray, you'll be back even faster. You wouldn't like that, Carl." They were so friendly, so concerned and I was so scared. I did not want to get back. I would have been easy prey for those brawny, drooling guys.
I nodded and quickly re-calibrated my mind-setting to literally save my ass.
Gianni and Flynn produced fool-proof evidence for my innocence and three hours later I was free.
"...to protect the Brotherhood with my life against all enemies. So help me God." I stood in the middle of a dimly lit room, my right hand raised, the left one placed on an old, frail bible, committing perjury.
Nearly one year had passed since I had seen Michael in the hospital. I had made it into the inner circles of the Brotherhood, far enough to receive now those secret words and information I would need to find their counterparts in the Matrix.
I had spent the past months denying myself completely. I had even started to date one of Hagen's daughters. Of course it was a purely platonic relationship, something that pleased Hagen very much. I had made clear that sex before marriage was something unthinkable for me.
I had gotten so used to lying that using his daughter to solidify my cover-up did not cause any headaches. In fact I had gotten used to so many things I could hardly tell wrong from right. Or my motifs from those of the Brotherhood and those of the Zion Intelligence Service.
Now the chairman embraced me as a welcome.
This was it. May God condemn my soul to hell for all the sins I had committed to get here, I didn't care. I had gotten so close to my goal, I would have done anything to keep going.
What goal?
That was indeed a very good question!
One I tried to evade constantly.
Not having time to meet either Gianni nor Flynn, canceling appointments minutes before they were due. Their request became more and more urgent but they had no means to press on me because that would have ruined my cover.
I was untouchable!
The knowledge of my utter safety kept me calm for a very long time.
Then they got me:
One of my clients in the psych ward, Garner, had been found dead, killed with an overdose of synthetic morphine. The syringe used carried my fingerprints. I got arrested under suspect of murder.
I have never been in jail before. The psych ward seemed to be paradise in comparison to the cells here! Even the interrogation-room to which I was brought after 36 hours was a relief. Well, the room was, not the procedure.
"Isn't it true, Carl, that Garner never let an opportunity slip away to give you a hard time?"
"Most of them do. They are sick, that's why they are in the psych ward." I answered.
"Not all of them throw their feces at you. Or deliberately vomit over your shoes. Huh?"
"No." I admitted. Garner had been an asshole! He did everything to humiliate his wards. Especially me, for whatever reason.
"Monday you were alone and you decided it was enough. You pretended to give him his vitamin-shots and killed him with an overdose of morphine. He trusted you and you killed him in cold blood. Wasn't it so?" the officer's hand slammed down on the table right beside me. My frayed nerves made me jump.
"No!"
"You killed him! You killed a dependant!"
"NO!" I yelled with a shaky voice. I was on the edge of a breakdown. I had been forced to spend one and a half day in an overcrowded cell full of crude guys with zero privacy. After witnessing a near-rape I didn't even dare to use the toilet, or to close my eyes.
The door opened.
"Thank you, officers. We're in charge now." Gianni and Flynn! My very personal saviors.
The cops left with a pout. Flynn let me use the bathroom, then gave me a coffee. It was obvious they had knowledge of how badly the last hours had been for me.
"Carl, why wouldn't you come to the last meeting?" Gianni asked with concern.
I was startled. What a change in subject!
"I – uh, I had no time. Work and all..." I managed to say.
"Listen Carl, you need to re-focus on your goals. We can get you out of here in no time if you agree to cooperate. But if you go astray, you'll be back even faster. You wouldn't like that, Carl." They were so friendly, so concerned and I was so scared. I did not want to get back. I would have been easy prey for those brawny, drooling guys.
I nodded and quickly re-calibrated my mind-setting to literally save my ass.
Gianni and Flynn produced fool-proof evidence for my innocence and three hours later I was free.