Techno wakes up with the worst headache he's ever had.
And coming from the guy who regularly pulls consecutive all-nighters and substitutes proper sleep with caffeine, that's saying something. His mouth is dry and tastes distantly bitter. While Techno licks his lips, he blinks up at the ceiling.
He got kidnapped.
He was walking home from the store after school and then he got dragged into an alley. Techno hisses at the pounding pain between his temples, lifting his hand. His knuckles are red, which definitely indicates he didn't imagine punching a guy. But that means all the rest also actually happened. He could be in pretty deep trouble right now.
Or he should be. What Techno notices as he blinks some more and clears his vision from the last traces of unconsciousness, is that he's lying in a bed. A very comfortable one, though that's not saying much considering what Techno has as a reference point. The bed he has back in his dorm is basically a mattress on the floor with half a pillow and some blankets. The frame had to be taken apart when he moved in, and Techno hasn't gotten around to reassembling the dumb thing. This bed is so much better by comparison though. Large and soft and very plush.
That doesn't make sense. When you kidnap somebody, you don't usually tuck them in for a good night's sleep, do you?
Well, not that Techno has a lot of experience - on either side of the kidnapping dynamic - but he's seen enough movies to know you're supposed to be wrenched awake by some bad guy throwing a bucket of water into your face while you're tied to a chair, as a prelude for the torture to begin. A nice bed isn't often part of the equation.
"How are you feeling?"
The question makes him jolt, especially since he can't really move right now so the voice kind of comes out of nowhere. With more effort than should be needed, Techno manages to turn his head to the side and look at a man sitting next to the bed in an armchair.
Techno doesn't recognize him. He can only assume it might be one of his kidnappers, though this man isn't wearing any of the same dark and foreboding clothes. He's in a simple black jeans, green sweater combo. He's blond, older than Techno would have assumed from a distance. Or maybe he has a really good skincare routine. He rests his cheek in one hand as Techno watches him, lounging back in the chair with crossed legs as if the scrutiny doesn't bother him. Sluggishly, Techno pulls his eyes away again.
His glasses are neatly folded on the bedside table. Techno slowly grabs them and puts them on, looking around so he can take the room in properly. It does seem to be a bedroom of some kind, if one that is sparsely decorated. Anonymous might be the word used to describe it. Across from the bed stands a simple wardrobe, and against the wall sits a desk with a chair. All the normal furniture doesn't detract from the uncanny feeling Techno gets when he notices the cameras in the corners, placed deliberately so as not to have any blind spots. A red light blinks lazily on each device.
Pushing the blanket off, Techno looks down and sees he's still wearing the exact same outfit too, including the jacket he'd normally never sleep in. They only removed his shoes, which are standing neatly side by side right next to the bed. Techno struggles to put them on before getting up, keenly aware the man is watching him do so with an amused grin. Has he been watching Techno sleep? What a creep.
"Okay, so what's going on?" Techno eventually asks, legs a bit too wobbly for his tastes. The man looks up at him, unbothered. "Is this some sort of new gang induction ritual I'm not caught up on?"
Techno has come to the only possible conclusion that he has either been kidnapped by the nicest criminals in the city or by a group of criminals who want to not piss him off more than he already will be given the situation. The second option is way more likely. And also happens to coincide with the fact that there is one group Techno can think of who would yoink him specifically. A group that has been pulling on his sleeve for nearly a week because they need something from him.
That would make this man part of The Crow Network.
"Why don't you sit down so we can have a chat?" the man asks pleasantly, gesturing at the bed.
"I think I'd rather stand," Techno says. The refusal is somewhat petty, but Techno doesn't want to sit on the nice, fancy cashmere sheets. It makes him feel weirded out. If his legs give out because the drugs aren't entirely out of his system, he'll take the concussion over sitting down when told to.
The man keeps smiling. "Suit yourself." He leans back in the chair impossibly further, maybe so his neck doesn't have to crane up as much if he wants to make eye contact with Techno. "I'm sure you've figured out who I am at this point?"
"Yeah, Jerry from elementary school, right?" Techno drawls. "Are you still pissed that I didn't invite you to my eighth birthday party?"
The man reacts to the joke with a loud chuckle of surprise. "Ah, you're funny. That's good, maybe some humor will ease tensions along."
Techno doesn't know what that means but he's sure he'll find out soon enough.
"My name is Philza Craft. Feel free to call me Phil." The man sticks out his hand for a handshake.
Crossing his arms awkwardly over his chest, Techno squints down at him. "You're the Crowfather? I didn't know you did your own dirty work."
Phil visibly shudders at the nickname. "Please, nobody calls me that aside from lackeys who mistake it as a form of flattery, or people I'm about to kill." He plays the denied handshake off with a little wave, turning his wrist over. "The media comes up with such dramatic monikers to use, doesn't it? I'm sure you'll agree. What was it they called you? Cyberknife?"
Swallowing, Techno looks away. Obviously The Crow Network has to know who he is if they managed to kidnap him. He doesn't like it though. He doesn't like it at all.
"I usually go by Dave," he mumbles.
"I know you do, Techno." Phil tilts his head, smiling wider.
Balling his hands into fists in a way he hopes isn't too noticeable, Techno tries to meet Phil's gaze. His eyes are blue, sharp. Observing his reactions carefully.
"So, I denied your generous job offer and you decided to resort to force. Real classy," he says. "If you have somebody in your corner who can figure out my identity, why don't you ask that guy to fix your leak? What happened anyway, somebody tried to download a suspicious Fortnight gift code to get those free V-bucks?"
Phil laughs again. Techno knows he falls back on sarcasm and making quips when he's nervous, often it helps him through social interactions or spoken exams. He never thought it would end up coming in handy when kidnapped by a criminal empire. Funny how life can turn out.
"I owe you an apology," Phil says eventually, when his laughter dies down. "I really regret we had to resort to such extreme measures."
And then the mob boss even apologizes for the kidnapping. Techno doesn't think there is any movie that could have prepared him for this part. When Phil stands up from the chair, Techno automatically leans back. But Phil just sweeps past him and into the middle of the room, talking as he goes.
"You really are the only person we can trust with this. I promise we don't go over a matter like this lightly. We have somebody in charge of cybersecurity who meets all our daily needs, but the current situation is above his skill level. He wouldn't be able to find you either if he had to start searching from scratch." Phil looks over his shoulder to grin at him. "You certainly know how to cover your tracks, mate."
"How did you find me then?" Techno asks.
Phil hesitates for a small moment before nodding. He turns around fully, facing Techno again. "Hm, I suppose if we want this to work, honesty is important. One of our methods is gathering information on things early. Anything or anybody that seems interesting, we keep records on. In case it might turn out useful to us later. An information network, if you will."
Techno doesn't give the little reference to how they got their name as much as a smile. It does shed some light on how The Crow Network manages to do what it does without law enforcement tracking them. "So you've been stalking me?"
Phil seems unfazed by the accusation. "We 'stalk' a lot of people." He raises his hands to put air quotes around the word, maybe to diminish the negative meaning it carries. "It's not a big deal."
Techno thinks it's a pretty big deal, but decides not to start an argument about semantics with the gang leader.
"How long?" he asks.
"I think you first popped up on our radar when you were in high school," Phil admits plainly. "You stole some money from the Seraphine family. They were helping launder funds for us, so we looked into it. Your work was pretty clean for a teenager." Phil phrases it almost as if it's supposed to be a compliment. Techno will choose to take it as one then. "We've kept tabs on you ever since."
"That's…" Techno begins then trails off. That's insane, he wants to say. Because it is. If the residue of the drugs weren't keeping him feeling pleasantly numb, he probably would be freaking out more. As is, he has to put at least half of his energy into not sitting down on the bed after all. Can't give Phil that satisfaction.
"We're thorough," Phil says.
Techno glances around the room again. No windows, and only one door. He's really worked himself into a corner here - proverbial and literal.
"Let me guess," Techno says. "If I still refuse to take the job, my apartment will mysteriously burn down and my charred corpse will be found inside. Signs of faulty electrical wiring will point at an innocent accident as the cause and my remains will be too burned to bother with an autopsy, especially as no foul play will be suspected."
Phil raises an eyebrow as he listens to Techno's prediction, based entirely on what he has heard on the news. The Crow Network isn't the only one able to do research. "You did your homework, that should make all of this easier," Phil says. "There's no need for any of that to happen though. I'm sure we can work out a better deal."
The implication that if they can't work out a deal, Techno's words will become a horrifying reality is left unspoken.
"What's the deal?" he asks.
"We're willing to offer you double of your usual pay," Phil says. "And a counter favor. No limits, no questions asked. If you need us in the future, we'll be at your beck and call." Phil throws in a charming smile, perhaps trying to sweeten the deal.
Techno has more pressing things to sort out. "And you won't kill me once we're done?"
"You have my word," Phil promises.
"For as much as that's worth," Techno shoots back.
Phil can say whatever he wants. He could offer Techno the moon and stars, but he has already shown the lengths he's willing to go if it means getting Techno to take this job. Kidnapping, threatening murder. The Crow Network is famously good at getting away with pretty much anything. Techno can't imagine they get that reputation by letting witnesses walk away.
He has seen Phil's face. He's going to see the insides of their security too. And Techno is supposed to believe Phil will let him go back to his normal life as a university student after this?
But there's not much of an alternative. Phil just waits for his answer, that constant grinning quickly slipping into obnoxious territory.
"Fine," Techno says. "But you'll need to get me my equipment. I'm not working on some random system without my hardware."
"That can be arranged," Phil says brightly, posture relaxing. "What do you need?"
Techno reaches into the pocket of his jacket, pleasantly surprised to find his home keys are still in there. He throws them at Phil, the older man catching them sloppily with both hands. Heh.
"Bring me my laptop and all three hard drives in the desk's top drawer," he says. "Any USB drives you find lying around too. I also need you to bring me whatever device you use to moderate your security, assuming it's not already here. And a proper internet connection with a proxy would be great."
"I'll get right on that." Phil starts to walk towards the door, stopping at the last second. "All of this might take a hot second. Be patient with us. Wilbur will pop by to keep an eye on you in the meantime since I have shit to do."
"So you actually do your own dirty work?" Techno chuckles. There's something comical about that. Though he could have guessed, since Phil clearly was there during the kidnapping.
"You know what they say, mate. If you want to do something right, you gotta do it yourself."
Wilbur turns out to be the guy Techno punched.
His knuckles don't hurt anymore, but the bruise on Wilbur's face probably does. There's a little satisfaction Techno can get out of that. Wilbur doesn't look half as intimidating when he's not dressed all kidnapper chic or whatever fashion statement he was trying to make in the alleyway yesterday, but Techno knows better than to let his guard down because of it. Phil didn't look like the scariest guy around either. That doesn't mean he is any less capable of running a criminal empire. Techno isn't taking any chances.
"Are you hungry?" Wilbur asks pretty much immediately upon opening the door, no introductions or nothing.
Techno touches his stomach automatically. He's been too anxious to have much of an appetite, but he can also definitely tell it's been a while since he ate. He doesn't know how much time has passed exactly, they took his phone and there are no clocks in the room. Techno got kidnapped before dinner and was unconscious for what was probably several hours though. So it could easily be half a day.
"I could eat," he says.
"Come on then." Wilbur steps back, leaving the doorway free. When Techno doesn't react quickly enough, he rolls his eyes. "I'm not going to hurt you, if that's what you're worried about."
"It's not," Techno says testily. He gets up from the chair at the desk. After Phil left, Techno briefly inspected the room but found it unenlightening, and the door had been locked by Phil. So he sat down and drummed his fingers on the wooden desk to pass the time. Classic ADHD hobby, to be honest.
Wilbur waits for him to come out into the hallway, the first time Techno leaves the bedroom since being brought there. He sees another door directly opposite him, and then one on the end of the hallway to the right. It's different, iron and with a bunch of deadbolts on it. While Techno is still staring, Wilbur suddenly grabs his arm and tugs him along in the other direction.
"Don't do anything stupid," Wilbur says, voice calm but with unmistakable harshness hiding beneath. "That's the only exit and it's locked up tight. This entire place is an underground safehouse, so don't bother trying to find a window either."
Techno wrenches his arm free. "Maybe if I'm not supposed to look at things, you should have blindfolded me."
Wilbur doesn't respond to that, but leads the way into a large room that looks like it's both a living room and a kitchen at once. There's another door too. Wilbur nods at it. "If you need to use the bathroom it's in there."
As Wilbur walks to the fridge, Techno awkwardly sits down on a high chair at the kitchen island. Now that he has more of an idea of how big this place is, it feels incredibly cramped. And no windows, just like Wilbur said. They're underground somewhere. Like a bunker. Techno isn't claustrophobic, but it's enough to put him on edge.
A bowl and plate are put down in front of him. And then Wilbur starts piling other random food items onto the kitchen island too. A box of cereal, a banana, chocolate chip cookies, some saltine crackers. Techno is a little flabbergasted by the apparent randomness of the stuff put out for him. When Wilbur notices his expression, the other man smiles sheepishly.
"We don't use this safehouse much," Wilbur says.
"Did you check expiration dates?" Techno asks wearily, picking up the banana and turning it over. Aside from a few brown spots, it looks fresh enough to eat.
"Should be good," Wilbur dismisses. Techno puts the banana back down again and opts for the crackers instead. Hacking with food poisoning is a bit of a pain.
"Do you drink coffee or tea?" Wilbur asks, turning towards an electric kettle on the counter.
"You don't happen to have any energy drinks?"
"Tommy might have left some in here." Wilbur opens the fridge, sliding aside a bag of tomatoes. Techno nibbles at the edge of a cracker, feeling his stomach protest to the attempt, unwilling to perform its normal functions when it's tied into knots.
Wilbur does find a bright blue can eventually. Not a brand Techno would normally go for, but beggars can't be choosers. He cracks it open and takes a sip, allowing the overwhelming saccharin taste to wash away some of his nausea.
"That's not really a balanced meal," Wilbur observes, grinning at Techno's one hand curled around the energy drink and the other still holding a cracker that's barely missing a corner. Techno looks away.
"Yeah, let me know once you guys have figured out proper room service."
Wilbur laughs, reaching a hand into the cereal box and grabbing some. Gross. And he dares get on Techno's case for his eating habits?
After a moment of silence - tense and uncomfortable - Wilbur sighs. "Look, I know Phil probably already apologized for the whole kidnapping thing and told you why we really had no other choice. But I'm sorry too. For uh, throwing you into a wall and all."
Techno snorts, leveling Wilbur with a deadpan stare. "Thanks."
"You know, this is the part where you could apologize for punching me," Wilbur says.
"I'm not in the habit of apologizing for something I don't regret." Wilbur makes a noise half chuckle and half huff, almost entertaining in the way his face twists in annoyance. "Also, Phil didn't tell me."
A genuine surprise passes over Wilbur. "He didn't?"
"He told me you guys are desperate and all, but never explained what exactly is going on. Something about one of your members being in danger?"
Phil had been pretty vague about the details, and aside from Techno's whole 'not working with criminals' boundary, he usually didn't agree to any job before knowing exactly what he was doing and for what purpose.
Wilbur considers this, probably trying to decide if he should tell Techno if Phil hasn't. Then he shrugs. "Since you listen to what people say about us on the news, you probably have a pretty negative opinion of us-"
Techno interrupts him by holding up a hand. "If you're about to try and convince me you're not a bunch of criminals, save it for somebody who will actually believe you."
"I'm not," Wilbur says quickly. "I'm not denying anything. What I'm trying to say is we're more than just a bunch of criminals. We're people, we have lives outside of what the news shows. And we have loved ones to protect."
Techno stares at Wilbur, hoping to relay how unimpressed he is with the sob story. Not even a sob story, this is barely an attempt to pull at his heartstrings.
"My brother, Tommy. He's fifteen years old," Wilbur says. "He's trying to live a normal life. I want that for him too. He goes to school and to the arcade and other teen shit like that. He has friends. And if somebody found out what he means to me, what he means to Phil. He could be in serious danger."
Wilbur seems sincere enough, making Techno shift slightly in the chair. "He wouldn't be in danger if you weren't pissing off other criminals."
"Maybe, but it's a little late for that now. The leak spread information that made deals go sour and ruined plans that were months in the making. We can cope with that. If Tommy's identity goes public…"
"I get it," Techno says, tersely. He doesn't even know why he asked. Maybe curiosity. But it doesn't matter. None of this matters. Techno is going to help them anyway, or he's going to end up dead.
Wilbur squints oddly at his reaction. He shoves some cereal into his mouth while Techno continues to half-heartedly nibble at the saltine cracker again. Techno almost thinks the subject is closed, back to uncomfortable silence! For an introvert like Techno, that's still better than uncomfortable conversation. However, after a few seconds more, Wilbur clears his throat.
"Do you have family, Techno?"
Wilbur is making an effort to smile at him, though for Techno it's mostly undercut by the fact that he never told Wilbur his name. And also, he probably already knows the answer if what Phil said about them stalking him is true.
Thankfully Techno is saved from needing to answer by the sudden buzz of a phone. Wilbur fishes it out of his pocket, looks at the screen for a moment, then types something back. It's almost immediately followed by another buzz, and Wilbur typing some more. Techno shoves more of the cracker in his mouth. Either he can use it as an excuse to never talk to Wilbur again, or he'll choke and die. Sounds like a win-win situation to him.
After a bit of back and forth, Wilbur sighs deeply and puts the phone down on the kitchen island. He glances at Techno, as if about to say something, then shakes his head. "I'm going to take a piss." With that crude remark, Wilbur turns and heads for the door he pointed out earlier. Techno waits for him to close it behind him.
Then he picks up the phone.
From a glance, Techno can tell it's not a normal smartphone. Maybe it's a burner device of some sort. The screen is small and rounded, bulging a bit out of the plastic. There aren't a ton of buttons on it. Techno turns it over, wondering if he'll even be able to call 911 with this. And if he can, what is he going to tell the operator? 'Yes, hello, I've been kidnapped. No, I don't know where I am. Guess I just wanted to let you know so you can water my house plants'.
While he's still considering what to do, the phone starts to buzz again.
And keeps buzzing. Not a message. Somebody is calling it. Techno peeks at the door, but it remains firmly closed. He presses the green button and puts the phone to his ear.
"Hel-"
"WILBUR! What the fuck do you mean 'get home on your own'. You're supposed to pick me up every Friday. You promised! Remember the last time you broke a promise? Worst birthday of my life, and yeah I'll bring it up again. I'll bring it up forever if you keep being a dick to me!" The voice on the other end sounds reasonably young and pitches higher into whining at the end of the tirade. Techno flinches, keeping the phone a few inches away to prevent hearing damage.
"You must be Tommy," he says.
The voice goes very quiet for about five seconds. Then the screaming picks back up again. "Who the fuck are you? Where is Wilbur? If you've done something to him, I'll kick your ass!"
"I haven't. I can get why you'd assume that though, he's insufferable."
Tommy sputters on the other end of the line, trying to decide between laughing or cursing Techno out some more. He ends up doing a bit of both.
Techno winces as Wilbur grabs his wrist, not having noticed the other man was done in the bathroom. The phone is snatched out of his hand. "Tommy. I'll call you back." He hangs up, shoving the phone into his pocket before glowering down at Techno. "I told you not to try anything."
"I'm not," Techno defends. He hisses when Wilbur squeezes harder, painful and bruising.
"Phil asked me not to break your hands, but I'm pretty sure you don't need legs to sit behind a computer," Wilbur says.
"What happened to apologizing for throwing me into a wall?" Techno manages to force out without sounding too pinched. Wilbur releases him, frowning, not quite guilty but close enough.
"If you behave, nothing bad needs to happen," he says coldly. Then he turns and walks away, already busy on the phone again. Techno rubs at the skin of his wrist, wincing. That's exactly what he meant about not underestimating these guys. He reaches for the cookies with a sigh.
If he's going to be murdered, might as well do so on a full stomach.