Conspiracy by Zanna
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Chapter or Story 
Chapter or Story
I am not going to even try to type an intro for this one folks, since I found a quote that neatly summons up future events in this realm. Oh yeah, sensitive readers should scram, especially if you don't like violence,
"We all have a darkside, it's bullshit to say that we don't. At some point we are going to have to face that." - Sarah McLachlan
Zanna
Conspiracy
part 9
by Zanna
Jarod's house
Blue Cove, Delaware.
Broots and Steven had completely taken over Jarod's dining room. Computers, printers and display screens were everywhere and the delivery menu of the nearest pizza parlour was firmly fastened next to the phone. They had been at it for nearly 18 hours and with Broots helping Steven with the more difficult parts of hacking into the Centre, they had cut the time with nearly an eighth. Steven had told Broots that the five minute thing was only a fluke and the virus was actually set to activate five hours before zero hour.
They had approximately 145 hours of five days left so Broots wasn't worried. Debbie was back at school and that weirdo that had been stalking her had apparently decided to disappear for a while. Jarod and Miss Parker was at the Centre, trying to follow up at all the people who were possibly connected to the Blue Files. Sydney and Angelo had moved into the loft. Broots grinned. He had never thought that Jarod's house would be able to house seven people. Jarod and Miss Parker was still civil with each other, maybe a little friendly, but it looked like their days of bunking together were over.
The doorbell rang. Broots made certain that he carried the panic button that Jarod had made him and Debbie wear in case of an emergency.
"Pizza, dude." The young punk at the door said.
"But we ..."
"Don't worry Broots, I ordered on-line." Steven shouted.
"In that case, thanks."
Slamming the door shut behind him, Broots opened the lid to check out the toppings.
"Pineapple and banana ?"
"It's delicious, you should try it sometime. What time is Debbie coming home ?"
"About three. Whose credit card did you use ?"
"Jonathan's. He won't know what hit him until it's too late."
***
James Buchanen High School
In the lovely town called, you guessed it, Blue Cove
"What do you think was the relationship between Hamlet and Ophelia after his parents declared him mad. ?" The teacher asked with boundless enthusiasm.
Debbie was astounded how someone could remain so excited about a subject which had been picked apart five years in a row. Debbie had long since decided that English was to be her homework period and since the class was usually one of the first that she had every day, so much the better. It wasn't that she didn't like Hamlet, nor Shakespeare for that matter, it's just that she didn't want to mess up her ideas and visions of what happened to Hamlet and the rest of his tragic tale.
"Miss Broots, would you like to comment ?"
Oh shit.
"Oh um, well I think that Ophelia knew that Hamlet was only pretending ..." somehow that word had taken on an entirely different meaning "... and that she had wanted to help him with whatever he had planned."
"In that case do you think that she ever truly loved Hamlet ? Or was she just in love with his crown, his image that he presented of himself ?"
"She was in love with *him* because when her father ordered her to stay away from Hamlet, she was more upset over the prospect of not seeing him than breaking up their relationship. Remember, she also went mad when Hamlet rejected her at the start of his 'madness'."
"Thank you, Miss Broots. Mr. Lange, what was the repercussions on Hamlet after Ophelia's death ?"
Debbie started tuning out again and focused on her math homework. Steven might be a genius with math, but he couldn't explain even if his life depended on it. Strangely enough, it had been Miss Parker who had sat with her until the wee hours of the morning explaining everything until Debbie would be able to do the work at three a.m.
Debbie's attention wandered from her algebra to the stalker who had surprisingly calmed down these last couple of days. It didn't mean he was gone though, because somehow she could still feel his eyes on her.
***
The Centre
"Okay, let's recap. In the past fifty years an experiment and later standard Centre procedure for all assassins was called the Revelations project, aka the Blue files. From what we can gather our dear friend Senator Whitehead was one of the first candidates to ever undergo the procedure. Later the Pretender or NuGenesis project was merged into the Revelations project, giving birth to Purple files or the Omega group." Jarod put his face into his hands and started to massage his temples.
"So, what you are telling me is that we have Pretenders who are the elite of the Assasins guild and the Centre denies their existence ?"
"That's about it. My supposedly unlimited access isn't that unlimited after all. I keep banging my head against this Triumvirate password."
"How many characters ?"
"Two."
"Oh, that's easy. " Miss Parker typed in two numbers and the computer beeped its approval.
" 28 ?"
"The Centre was established on the 12th of March, 1957. Do you know how numerology works ?"
"Yeah, you take numbers and add them together until you get one number."
"Right, but for a bit more exited they made it two. So take the numerical values of the date ..."
"1957-03-12"
" ... add them together and you get ..."
"...twenty-eight. I can't believe I missed that !"
"Yeah, and you're supposed to be the genius." Miss Parker smirked.
There was a knock on the door.
"Come !"
Enter Jonathan Midea with a sportsbag stuffed to the gills.
"Since you have taken Steven over I suppose it's only firring that you take his stuff." He slammed the bag on the worktable and turned around to leave.
"Midea, wait." Jarod stood up.
"What ? Do you also want his bedsheets ?"
"Just a little bit of information. The only thing it'll cost you is that your very cooporative tongue of yours keep wagging for a while."
Jarod forced Jonathan to sit in the chair and locked the door. Miss Parker saw what Jarod had in mind and pulled out her gun.
"Now, what do you know of the Revelations project ?"
"I don't know what you are talking about."
Miss Parker gently caressed his hairline with the barrel of her gun.
"Really ? That's not what our source says. And does our source lie ?"
"Never Miss Parker." Jarod struggled to keep his laughter contained. He never tired to see her interrogate someone, to see her scare the shit out of them. She leaned forward and the gun started to drift downwards. She moved towards his left ear, and almost seductively, started talking.
"You know Midea, I really don't like it when people lie to me. I really don't. I mean, I understand why you are doing it, bit it REALLY pisses me off." With the last couple of words she jammed the gun into his crotch.
"So unless you want to keep what you don't use anyway, you had better start talking."
Jarod could see Midea's eyes sweep the room, looking for means of escape and finding none, looking for a way to outsmart his captors. Jarod mentally wished the man luck, knowing how long Miss Parker's stamina could last and her enjoyment of tasks like interrogation. When he looked into her eyes he could see the bloodlust threatening to overwhelm her. His blood boiled behind his eyes, he could feel the lustful call of the violent acts that they were about to perform. In his mind, he could already feel the exquisite pain the Midea would feel and the sadistic pleasure of Miss Parker applying years of experience in the torture department to certain nerve endings.
Miss Parker cocked the weapon and moved the nozzle towards his kneecaps.
"I think I'll start here. Now Midea, assume I know nothing, so why don't you start with what the Blue Files is ?"
"I'm telling you. I don't know what you are talking about !"
Miss Parker shot his left kneecap. His pitiful screams echoed across the Simlab and the people who walked past the lab thought nothing of it. As Miss Parker said earlier: This is the Centre and the day that people don't hear screams of pain or anguish echoing through the halls was the day that they knew that they were dead.
"I think Miss Parker was very generous, don't you Midea ? After all, she could have blown your balls off." Midea nodded, in too much pain to think straight.
"Don't worry Jarod, I'll bet there as soon as I run out of joints to shoot. Shall we try again Jonathan ?"
'Oh hell' thought Midea 'I'm a dead man already, what does it matter if the bitch kills me after I give her the info ?'
"What do you want to know ?"
"Absolutely everything."
"We all have a darkside, it's bullshit to say that we don't. At some point we are going to have to face that." - Sarah McLachlan
Zanna
part 9
by Zanna
Jarod's house
Blue Cove, Delaware.
Broots and Steven had completely taken over Jarod's dining room. Computers, printers and display screens were everywhere and the delivery menu of the nearest pizza parlour was firmly fastened next to the phone. They had been at it for nearly 18 hours and with Broots helping Steven with the more difficult parts of hacking into the Centre, they had cut the time with nearly an eighth. Steven had told Broots that the five minute thing was only a fluke and the virus was actually set to activate five hours before zero hour.
They had approximately 145 hours of five days left so Broots wasn't worried. Debbie was back at school and that weirdo that had been stalking her had apparently decided to disappear for a while. Jarod and Miss Parker was at the Centre, trying to follow up at all the people who were possibly connected to the Blue Files. Sydney and Angelo had moved into the loft. Broots grinned. He had never thought that Jarod's house would be able to house seven people. Jarod and Miss Parker was still civil with each other, maybe a little friendly, but it looked like their days of bunking together were over.
The doorbell rang. Broots made certain that he carried the panic button that Jarod had made him and Debbie wear in case of an emergency.
"Pizza, dude." The young punk at the door said.
"But we ..."
"Don't worry Broots, I ordered on-line." Steven shouted.
"In that case, thanks."
Slamming the door shut behind him, Broots opened the lid to check out the toppings.
"Pineapple and banana ?"
"It's delicious, you should try it sometime. What time is Debbie coming home ?"
"About three. Whose credit card did you use ?"
"Jonathan's. He won't know what hit him until it's too late."
***
James Buchanen High School
In the lovely town called, you guessed it, Blue Cove
"What do you think was the relationship between Hamlet and Ophelia after his parents declared him mad. ?" The teacher asked with boundless enthusiasm.
Debbie was astounded how someone could remain so excited about a subject which had been picked apart five years in a row. Debbie had long since decided that English was to be her homework period and since the class was usually one of the first that she had every day, so much the better. It wasn't that she didn't like Hamlet, nor Shakespeare for that matter, it's just that she didn't want to mess up her ideas and visions of what happened to Hamlet and the rest of his tragic tale.
"Miss Broots, would you like to comment ?"
Oh shit.
"Oh um, well I think that Ophelia knew that Hamlet was only pretending ..." somehow that word had taken on an entirely different meaning "... and that she had wanted to help him with whatever he had planned."
"In that case do you think that she ever truly loved Hamlet ? Or was she just in love with his crown, his image that he presented of himself ?"
"She was in love with *him* because when her father ordered her to stay away from Hamlet, she was more upset over the prospect of not seeing him than breaking up their relationship. Remember, she also went mad when Hamlet rejected her at the start of his 'madness'."
"Thank you, Miss Broots. Mr. Lange, what was the repercussions on Hamlet after Ophelia's death ?"
Debbie started tuning out again and focused on her math homework. Steven might be a genius with math, but he couldn't explain even if his life depended on it. Strangely enough, it had been Miss Parker who had sat with her until the wee hours of the morning explaining everything until Debbie would be able to do the work at three a.m.
Debbie's attention wandered from her algebra to the stalker who had surprisingly calmed down these last couple of days. It didn't mean he was gone though, because somehow she could still feel his eyes on her.
***
The Centre
"Okay, let's recap. In the past fifty years an experiment and later standard Centre procedure for all assassins was called the Revelations project, aka the Blue files. From what we can gather our dear friend Senator Whitehead was one of the first candidates to ever undergo the procedure. Later the Pretender or NuGenesis project was merged into the Revelations project, giving birth to Purple files or the Omega group." Jarod put his face into his hands and started to massage his temples.
"So, what you are telling me is that we have Pretenders who are the elite of the Assasins guild and the Centre denies their existence ?"
"That's about it. My supposedly unlimited access isn't that unlimited after all. I keep banging my head against this Triumvirate password."
"How many characters ?"
"Two."
"Oh, that's easy. " Miss Parker typed in two numbers and the computer beeped its approval.
" 28 ?"
"The Centre was established on the 12th of March, 1957. Do you know how numerology works ?"
"Yeah, you take numbers and add them together until you get one number."
"Right, but for a bit more exited they made it two. So take the numerical values of the date ..."
"1957-03-12"
" ... add them together and you get ..."
"...twenty-eight. I can't believe I missed that !"
"Yeah, and you're supposed to be the genius." Miss Parker smirked.
There was a knock on the door.
"Come !"
Enter Jonathan Midea with a sportsbag stuffed to the gills.
"Since you have taken Steven over I suppose it's only firring that you take his stuff." He slammed the bag on the worktable and turned around to leave.
"Midea, wait." Jarod stood up.
"What ? Do you also want his bedsheets ?"
"Just a little bit of information. The only thing it'll cost you is that your very cooporative tongue of yours keep wagging for a while."
Jarod forced Jonathan to sit in the chair and locked the door. Miss Parker saw what Jarod had in mind and pulled out her gun.
"Now, what do you know of the Revelations project ?"
"I don't know what you are talking about."
Miss Parker gently caressed his hairline with the barrel of her gun.
"Really ? That's not what our source says. And does our source lie ?"
"Never Miss Parker." Jarod struggled to keep his laughter contained. He never tired to see her interrogate someone, to see her scare the shit out of them. She leaned forward and the gun started to drift downwards. She moved towards his left ear, and almost seductively, started talking.
"You know Midea, I really don't like it when people lie to me. I really don't. I mean, I understand why you are doing it, bit it REALLY pisses me off." With the last couple of words she jammed the gun into his crotch.
"So unless you want to keep what you don't use anyway, you had better start talking."
Jarod could see Midea's eyes sweep the room, looking for means of escape and finding none, looking for a way to outsmart his captors. Jarod mentally wished the man luck, knowing how long Miss Parker's stamina could last and her enjoyment of tasks like interrogation. When he looked into her eyes he could see the bloodlust threatening to overwhelm her. His blood boiled behind his eyes, he could feel the lustful call of the violent acts that they were about to perform. In his mind, he could already feel the exquisite pain the Midea would feel and the sadistic pleasure of Miss Parker applying years of experience in the torture department to certain nerve endings.
Miss Parker cocked the weapon and moved the nozzle towards his kneecaps.
"I think I'll start here. Now Midea, assume I know nothing, so why don't you start with what the Blue Files is ?"
"I'm telling you. I don't know what you are talking about !"
Miss Parker shot his left kneecap. His pitiful screams echoed across the Simlab and the people who walked past the lab thought nothing of it. As Miss Parker said earlier: This is the Centre and the day that people don't hear screams of pain or anguish echoing through the halls was the day that they knew that they were dead.
"I think Miss Parker was very generous, don't you Midea ? After all, she could have blown your balls off." Midea nodded, in too much pain to think straight.
"Don't worry Jarod, I'll bet there as soon as I run out of joints to shoot. Shall we try again Jonathan ?"
'Oh hell' thought Midea 'I'm a dead man already, what does it matter if the bitch kills me after I give her the info ?'
"What do you want to know ?"
"Absolutely everything."
