Genre: Drama, angst, friendship
Spoilers: End of series 2, "The Reichenbach Fall"
Warnings: Spoilers, angst, some violence, mentions of drugs, swearing
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Simulation Software
I fact, I can call myself fortunate, for I seem to have gained Morbier´s trust and he let me in to the innermost circle of the web. He told me enough to make me, Sigerson, salivate, for I know that as long as Rieger is safe and obedient, there will be money to gain, a lot of money.
But Morbier is very much a man who is fixed on his own interests and he will hire, and kill his subordinates without too much regret. I am his puppet, as Lelord and everyone else in his troupe of killers and criminals is.
This is actually getting tiresome: acting on Morbier´s behalf and at the same time avoiding the traps the other members of his team set me, the young, aspiring addition to Morbier´s emporium. To treat them with arrogance, a sharp tongue and rage helps a lot. After all these weeks of not acting as myself, I can finally release some of the strain and land a blow on the faces of people I despise and consider somewhat less than innocent. They start to treat me with respect, keeping a healthy distance.
It is a long week at Morbier´s manor, the first week of the New Year, and it doesn´t bear a promising perspective. The timescale for the web´s coup on the financial markets is already set, and I will need to act before it can be carried into execution. This gives me two more months to gather evidence, something I can deliver to the Belgian police.
In the meantime, the endeavors of the European Parliament to stabilize the Euro are intensifying. Morbier has bribed or threatened nearly all of the finance ministers of the European Union. The management board of Standars & Poors and further influential rating agencies are fast under the influence of the web and are forced to change ratings continually. The chaos Morbier wants to spread is already undermining all efforts of unity, thus allowing the web leeway for further criminal activities.
It is exactly the sixth of January I return to Rieger in Paris. I would nearly not have taken notice of the date would I not have passed a bookstall with the "Daily Mail"´s headlines screaming at me in a motorway restaurant. "Exclusive report on Fake Detective´s Life" it reads, and there is a picture of me and John. It is an odd birthday treat, but I can´t leave without paying and taking the newspaper with me to the car. Several kilometers down the motorway I stop at a parking area. The story is simple and full of incorrect facts, still claiming that every single one of my achievements was faked, that I was a deranged, self-conscious depressant seeking attention. What pains me, though, is that the author states that John only once, at my funeral, gave a statement to the press. He said he will "always believe in my best friend".
This is no proof at all that he is getting on well, but it is enough to make me linger in the car after I have abandoned the paper, staring into the void, seeing nothing, reminiscing. At last, I turn the ignition and drive away, much faster than necessary, fleeing from feelings which are not called for and dangerous at the moment.
Rieger awaits me with contempt. I can´t blame him, since I am one of the bad guys in this game. I threatened him, and I am his keeper for the next month. The task is tedious: making sure he will work on his computer programme without trying to contact people who are not connected to Morbier. My predecessors have set up a daily routine as well as a strict procedure for passwords and security checks.
The life at Rieger´s office is absolute hell for me, as the daily tasks include no destraction except watching him closely, checking the security, going out to buy food and sleep for some hours. What once was a perfectly nice and modern flat in a modern, well-designed building is now a prison. As the blinds on the windows are to stay closed and no widow is to be opened, instead making use of the air conditioning, the situation gets unbearable.
February is nearly past, when one day I doze off unexpectedly. Rieger and I haven´t talked much in the past weeks, he busying himself with his task, I retreating into my mind whenever possible to shut out my surroundings and be able to last under these conditions. To my surprise, I find Rieger grabbing my shoulder, talking to me. Still dizzy with sleep, I can´t grasp what he tells me.
He backs off when he sees I am awake, slumping down on his chair.
"What is it?" I manage to ask coldly.
"Bad dream,",he says. "You were screaming."
Did I sleep that fast? How negligent. "Not your concern," I snarl.
"I thought you were going to attack me," he answers. "You were uttering threats at someone. You muttered something about a gun and a bomb. And a heart."
"None of your business. Back to work," I reject him, realizing that the emotional strain of my task is taking its toll. The meeting with Moriarty at the pool has ceased to haunt me for a while, but shortly after the incident the idea of the criminal going after John was enough to drive me into relapsing. These memories recurring does signify that I am strained to the limit, and need to be even more careful.
Watching Rieger´s back, I ponder my chances when my mobile rings. "Hi Eric," Lelord greets me with false cheer, "hope you are still in charge?"
"What is it?" I ask.
"Ohhh, already the big boss of the computer lab, are you? Morbier wants the programme, now. Grab a memory stick and move your ass to Brussels. Didier will take your place."
"Why Didier?" I ask, knowing all too well that he is as apt with firearms as Lelord is.
Lelord chuckles. "You know quite well why. Not yet time for you to get your hands dirty. The stick might suffer irreparable damage."
I cut the line, assuring Lelord of my imminent departure, then leave. On my way back out of Paris, I stop only briefly to call the police to Rieger´s office.
