Busted and broken
"Fuck, my head" he moaned in English as he struggled back to awareness.
He felt like he'd been kicked in the head by a footballer, and for a good while, all he could do was lie curled up holding his head as best he could, his wrists pinned together by handcuffs, crying over the pain. Eventually, though, it eased off enough for him to be able to raise his head and open his eyes. He winced as a bright light seared through his brain, and swore again as a lance of pain struck through him. Blinking against the pain, he looked up to see a man in a long black coat towering over him. He tried to force his eyes to focus, to get a better look at the man, but they refused to comply. Giving up, he let his head slam back down on the floor as consciousness slipped away and his world faded back into black.
When he next awoke, things were better. The pain had dulled to a tolerable ache, and he could sit up without being hit by waves of nausea. He pushed himself into a sitting position and looked up again. The black-clad man was still standing over him, and Michael felt very small in his presence. The man reached down and passed him a glass of water
"Drink this, you'll feel better," he said gruffly.
Michael began to sip it slowly, feeling his stomach do cartwheels as his body fought to eliminate the drugs from his system. The man was right, though, the water was slowly bringing him back to some sort of useful consciousness, though he wasn't sure that was such a good thing as he felt the fear return.
"Where the hell am I?" he thought,
it really did not look like any sort of police station he'd ever been in, not that he'd been in that many. He glanced up, debating whether to ask the man in front of him, when he heard the clicking of a door handle, and a younger, smaller woman came in.
"Amon, the Boss wants to see you with him, right away." She announced, glancing at him curiously.
"Well, that was one good sign, they were at least all speaking Japanese, so at least I haven't been taken out the country." He chuckled to himself,
that would just be too ironic, saving his parents the airfare by getting abducted to the US.
The man reached down to him and pulled him up by the arm, not harshly. He scrambled to his feet, relieved that the man retained his grip as the world began to spin uncontrollably.
"Just breathe" he heard from far away,
He took huge, gulping breaths to try and slow the spin. Gradually it eased, and the man looked him up and down before leading him out of the room and across to an elevator block. He walked slowly, still not feeling good. He had a strong urge to put his hands out to balance, and the inability to do this, because of the handcuffs, made the vertigo worse.
"The drugs hit you hard, you must be young." Said the man curtly.
Michael glanced up at him, his glossy black hair hung at the sides of his face and his eyes looked ahead, impassively. He did not look that old himself, thought Michael.
"I'm 14," Michael eventually replied, tentatively.
"Hmm," The man called Amon grunted, "Very young."
"Very young for what?"
thought Michael as the elevator activated, carrying him upwards.
He mulled over the worrying words whilst at the same time trying to regain his composure after the drugs, the two were fairly mutually exclusive, so he settled for a vague, almost certainly drug-induced, calm.
Entering the office, Michael had to restrain himself from gagging on the smell. Stale cigar smoke mixed with the odour of a man who worked long and hard hours, and the boy felt his headache begin to pound again. He held his breath and willed the pain to go away, he sensed that if there was ever a time he needed to be together, this was it.
"Take a seat" a deep voice said.
Michael jumped, he had been so busy dealing with his headache, he had not noticed the man seated behind a large desk.
Hoping that his flinch had not been noticed, he took the seat in front of the desk, and sat in what he hoped was an appropriate manner, sensing that something serious was happening to him.
"So you're our hacker then?" The man continued,
"Umm, I think so" Replied Michael nervously, sensing from the way the man paused, that some admission of guilt was required.
"May I ask why you felt the STNJ was a worthy target?" continued the man.
Michael blanched slightly, and quickly ran through options in his mind. What could he say that would make him seem any less guilty? What about his past hacks, would they come back to haunt him? How much should he admit to? He ran options through his mind, and decided that in this instance, the truth, no matter how unbelievable it sounded, was his best recourse.
"Because it was there" he answered, trying to sound as sincere as possible, after all, it was the truth, well, most of it.
The older man looked for a second, then nodded at the black-haired man, who Michael knew was called Amon. Amon grabbed Michael around the neck, holding him in such a way that it was clear that his neck could be broken with the minimum of effort. The younger boy gulped as best he could against the hold.
"So," Continued the boss "Why did you hack into STNJ? Who paid you and why?"
"Honestly, sir" Michael's voice rose in fear, and a tremble appeared in it which had not been there before "I only did it because I saw it mentioned in police reports and was curious. You've got to believe me, nobody paid me. No one's ever paid me to hack, I only do it for fun!"
He realised that his voice was starting to sound frantic, but he could not help himself. He was terrified.
"So why is there a plane ticket in your name for a flight to America, flying out tomorrow? Why had you got plans to get away?"
"Shit!" Michael thought.
His bloody parents, first they were going to send him away, now he was going to get killed for it! Dammit, it was typical things would work out that way!
"No, you misunderstand, sir, with all due respect. My parents were going to send me away to some American school for troubled children" he blushed slightly as he spoke, he sensed that it was not such a great idea for this man to know that even his parents thought he was a delinquent.
"I think you're lying" responded the man, and he nodded to Amon, who tightened the pressure around Michael's neck.
"No, I swear, I swear it's true. Christ" he swore in English "I don't know how to convince you, but it's all true, it's not the first hack I've done, but no one paid, it was just for fun"
"Just for fun? Are you having fun" the boss chuckled, without humour.
Michael fumed momentarily, he longed to shout "Do I look like I'm having fun?" but Amon had tightened his grip momentarily, and he could not speak.
"So" Boss continued, "why should I not just have you killed right here? You seem like an intelligent young man, I'm interested in your opinion"
Michael realised the need to tread carefully, this was not a good position for him to be in, and he was well aware that any minute, his neck could be cracked and he would be dead. Vaguely he wondered what it would feel like. Not something he wanted to experience, he decided, and thinking for a second, he responded
"Because I know your system, I've seen its weaknesses, and I know how to fix them. I also know that you don't have anyone to coordinate hunts, and so hunters have got injured because no one really knows what is going on."
He took a deep breath and decided he had nothing to lose from going for the hard sell
"I can fix those problems. You don't realise it yet, but you need someone like me, and it seems silly to kill me, then for you to have to wait for a long time for someone else like me to come along." He took a breath, hoping that he had not over-egged the pudding.
"Hmm," The Boss looked thoughtful, and Michael braced himself for the snap,
"I must admit, you make some interesting points, Michael Lee. I will have to consider it. Amon, take him downstairs,"
"Umm," Michael interjected nervously "my parents will be expecting me, they'll worry." He trailed off.
"Michael, think about it, an open window on the ground floor and you knowing that they were going to send you away tomorrow. For someone who claims to be intelligent, you are not thinking very logically. As far as they are concerned, you have run away. When I decide what to do with you, the next phase will be activated. that is all you need to know for now"
With that, Amon released his hold on the boy's neck and hauled him upright, before escorting him out of the office and back down to the holding cell, undoing the cuffs and lowering him onto the floor before exiting, locking the door as he went.
Michael sat on the floor for a good while, thinking. He had done his best in front of the boss, he really did not want to die. It would be just ridiculous, to get killed for a hack he'd only done by accident, and had only been caught at by his own stupidity. He started to cry, and had to dig his fingernails into the palms of his hands to make himself stop. He did not want to show any weakness in front of these people. But as the hours wore on, he was unable to maintain control, and finally, overtaken by frustration, fear, exhaustion and anguish, he curled up in a corner and sobbed and sobbed until he fell into an exhausted sleep.
He was shaken awake, though not roughly, by Amon.
"Zaizen wants to see you again" he said, simply.
Michael got up slowly, stiff from sleeping on the cold floor and wiped his face on the hem of his T shirt.
"Come on" continued Amon, "we can go past a washroom on the way so you can tidy yourself up."
A few minutes later, Michael was again standing in front of the boss, whose name he now knew was Zaizen, shaking with fear, sure that this would be it. He had noticed that Amon was wearing gloves this time, and was poised, waiting for a signal, to do the deed and dispose of him. He trembled slightly, feeling a chill across his skin and a sudden desperate need to visit the toilet. He tried to suppress these feelings, trying to remain together and in control in front of the man who held life in his hands. He almost wished for the drugs, at least before they had taken the edge off his fear and had hidden the emotions of terror from him. Then Zaizen spoke.
"You have caused me a great deal of thought, Michael Lee. By rights, your life is mine, and I should have you killed right here to prevent what you now know getting into the hands of my enemies. But, you are right, you do have useful skills. I have been looking at your files and the reports from the analysis of your computer system, you have definitely been around the virtual country, so to speak, and you appear very talented. So, I have decided this. I will not kill you today."
Michael glanced up, a slight glimmer of hope appearing in his mind.
"Provided" he continued "you agree to certain rules. You will work for us, you will only hack to obtain information necessary for us, and you will commit yourself to this organisation. You will be expected to give your entire loyalty to STN-J and SOLOMON and to the Hunt. To ensure this, you will have all ties with your old life broken. You will not leave the building without my express permission, which, let me tell you, I will not grant lightly. You will be dead to the outside world, you will have no connections with it aside from those which are necessary for your work, and you will commence a new life here, working for us. Should you break any of these conditions, you will die. Should your loyalty waver, you will die. Make no mistake, this is not an easy path. If you cannot tolerate it, it is best for you to say now, and die painlessly, than break a rule and die later."
Michael sat, speechless, for several minutes. He could see the stark choice laid out in front of him, slavery or death? He supposed it was only what he deserved for having the stupidity to get caught, but that did not make the choice any easier. After a long time, he reached a decision.
"I don't want to die" he said simply. "I will do my best to stick to the conditions"
The Boss cocked his head to one side and looked intently at the boy, who was trembling before him. He nodded, then glanced at Amon. Lost in his own thoughts, Michael failed to notice the meaningful look which passed between then, and was therefore taken by surprise when he was grabbed in the same neck-breaking hold as before.
"Shit" he thought to himself, he had agreed, he had humiliated and abased himself and now they were going to kill him anyway. Instead, Zaizen got up from behind his desk and wrapped a necklace around his neck. It was held by chain, with a dogtag attached, but the chain was so short, to prevent him pulling it over his neck, he could not read what was on the tag.
"Sit still" commanded the Boss, as he reached to his desk and picked up a soldering iron, lighting it, he soldered the chain onto the dogtag, it was unremovable.
"That is your tag, Michael. It will serve as a reminder of what you agreed. it will remain around your neck until the day you die, however far away that day is. Now Amon, show our latest recruit to the office, please."
Michael followed, numbly. One leg in front of the other, in auto-pilot, hand swinging loosely by his sides. How had it come to this? A prisoner, no, a slave, for life. A sentence handed down by "boss," judge, jury and executioner and him never to see anyone he loved ever again. He had a sudden visualisation of his mother receiving word he had died, presumably they would as he had run away, then "find a body" in another couple of days. With visceral clarity, he envisaged her pulling the sheet away from a body in a morgue and collapsing with grief, sobbing into the arms of his father. He could not help but gasp at the enormity of his revelation, he still loved his family, even though they had planned to send him away. At that moment, in his mind, he heard the noise of a prison door slamming shut, and just as he walked into the main office, he knew, beyond all doubt, that all choice had been taken away, and his life was now in the hands of another. Taking a deep breath, he walked into the main office as though he were walking into a cell.