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SUBLYMONAL
The year is 2011. The United States Congress passed a new program called Engitech Systems. It was supposed to be designed to track registered criminals, sex offenders, and the like. Five years later they passed a sixty-five billion dollar increase to their spending. They upgraded their systems and produced a line of new advanced tracking systems. Namely, one called Nitroware, was the most idealistic. It called for every person in the country to be outfitted with a tracking device for “safety”.
The head of the company, Saul Aarons introduced Nitroware to Congress. They deliberated for days and days and finally they passed a simple bill stating that all people fourteen and over were to have a Nitroware tracking system installed in their cerebellum.
At first, everything was fine. People went on with their daily lives; work, play, eating, etc. After a while the devices started to malfunction and would detonate inside the person’s body. A total of sixty-million people died in the first five months of Nitroware’s production.
Engitech closed down for eight years. They went back to the drawing board and developed a new system that wouldn’t detonate or malfunction at all. You didn’t need to replace it or fix it, it was invincible. About the time Congress repassed the bill for the new tracking devices, the CIA became aware of a situation involving the current president. Three months later he was impeached. The Vice President was then inaugarated into office.
On the surface, Nigel Warren III looked like a normal country loving president. However, behind the scenes he had forcefully ordered Saul Aarons to install a sort of software update to the tracking systems. The software was ordered to be progammed so that sublymonal messages could be transfered into the brain.
With this, a “zombie” army was at Nigel’s control. People expected a violent revolution, but there was none. Instead, german computer nerds and hackers smuggled themselves across the narrow gap between Russia and Alaska. They would hide out in old storage facilities and kidnap people and surgically remove the tracking devices. The hideouts they used were called “Nests”. Because of the threat of being discovered, they would always move around so they couldn’t be caught as easily.
Now a tech war rages on against Nigel and Engitech and this is where our story begins.
CHAPTER ONE
His heart was beating faster than he was running. How could they have found him? He was using a firewall. No matter, he could run faster than those damn enforcers. He ran around into a dark alley way. Screaming sirens from police cars ran past him. He took a cell phone out of his pocket. He dialed a series of numbers, nine to be exact. Dialing a regular phone number could be traced. He put the phone up to his ear. There was a ringing sound.
“Yea?”
“It’s Mack. I got what we were looking for.”
“Cops?”
“Ya they chased me past Grand Central and I’m pinned in some damn alley way waiting for a time to leave.”
“I’ll send one of the guys to pick you up.”
“Alright, I’ll be here.”
“Bye.”
He took the cell phone and stuck it in his jacket pocket. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and shook the dust from his thick brown hair.
Mack waited and waited. Finally, a figure on a sports bike appeared at the opening of the alley way. The figure signaled for the Mack to come to them. Cautiously, Mack sprinted to the figure. He stood at the bike for a moment of silence. Then the figure handed him a helmet and said,
“Get on.”
Mack nodded and hopped on the bike. The engine fire up and they took off. They zoomed past streets of houses and working districts. They were half way past Grand Central when two black cop cars pulled along side them.
“Shit! They’re enforcers!” the man on the bike screamed.
“What do you say we take the subway?” Mack replied, patting the man on his shoulder.
The man hit the brakes! Did a doughnut and took off down the street that led to the stairs of Grand Central. The black cars had already caught up with them. Desperate, the man hit his Nitro button and they took off up the stairs. They crashed through the glass doors of Grand Central. People began to scream and run out of the way as the bike flew through the air and landed on the marble ground.
There was no sign of the cops that had been chasing them. The man on the bike hit the brakes and jumped off the bike. He walked to the side of Mack and asked him if he was alright. As the man finished the sentence, a bullet came from the entrance of Grand Central and struck the man right in the temple. His limp body fell to the ground and Mack slid to the front of the bike, turned it on, and took off.
He realized that there was no real exit, so he had to make one. He started up the engine and took off towards the largest window in the building. Bullets flew past his head and shattered the window for him. He closed his eyes as the bike flew out the window and onto the street. Mack hit the brakes once more, turned around to assess the situation, checked his pocket for the objective, and took off down the street.
CHAPTER 2
Mack roared across the streets. The lights blurred as he sped faster and faster. Periodically, he looked back to see if he was being followed. There was nothing.
He came to a stoplight and slowed down. He looked around the crosswalk and streets to see if he had any pursuers; again, nothing. The light turned green and he took a slow turn to the left. When he hit the the trafficless street, he once again sped off back to base.
About fifteen or so minutes later, Mack appeared at a car garage. He stepped off the bike and put his helmet on the handlebar. As before, he looked around to see his surrounding. It was starting to annoy him, but he was safe. He came up to the giant steel door and tapped his knuckle incrementally on it. The door slowly ascended. Mack went back and propped the bike up and walked into the garage.
Once he put the bike in a appropriate place, he was ushered to a back room by two muscular bodyguards. They led him through the door. Mack bowed his head and took a seat in front of a desk.
“He will be in soon.” the bodyguard said.
It seemed like only moments before I tall lean figure came in from the door to the far right of Mack. His face was covered by a ski mask and he was wearing a expensive looking white suit. Mack gulped and wiped the sweat from his forehead. The man stretched out his hand.
“I would like to appropriate.” he said, grinning.
Mack walked over to the desk and handed the man a small box wrapped in a small bag. The man nodded and Mack went back to his seat. The man waved his hand at the bodyguards and they left the room.
“Where’s the man I sent to pick you up?” the man asked.
’He’s -" Mack was cut off.
“I know.” he said, frowning.
The man stood up and walked over to a corner of the room. There was a small safe. It was silver with a red combination lock.
“You have no idea how much this means to your cause”. the man said, spinning the lock and opening it.
Mack said nothing. The man looked at him. He had a wad of cash in his hand. He handed it to Mack. He smiled and grabbed the cash. The man nodded for him to leave and Mack slowly stood up and exited the room. He walked out to the garage and two men again ushered him to a BMW. He got in the back and the two climbed in the front. The car roared to life and they backed out of the garage and back onto the street.
“Where are we going?” Mack asked, nervous and scared.
“Headquarters.” the man in the passenger said, looking back at Mack.
Mack smiled and chuckled. The man smiled as well and they took off down the street.
Chapter 3
The car came to a halt at a large storage building. It was blandly colored and the sign read “EZ Free Storage”. Although, some letters were missing. The man in the passenger side stepped out first and opened the door for Mack. Mack hesitated and slowly climbed out. The driver came out and stretched his arms.
“Let’s go.” the driver said, almost nervously.
The three men came to a blue garage door. The driver did a series of knocks and the door creaked then slowly ascended. The driver walked in and signaled for Mack and the other man to follow.
As they walked in, two guards approached and the two men nodded and walked down a hall talking and laughing. Mack looked at them. He was alone now. One guard tapped Mack’s shoulder, signaling for him to move forward. They came to another door and the two guards walked away. Mack was confused. Was he supposed to open the door? He reached for the knob, but hesistated and pulled back.
“Funny.” a voice said coming from the back. “Funny, most people would open the door without thought. Why didn’t you?”
Mack was too scared to turn around or even answer the question. The man came around Mack so that he could see at him. He was old, but he looked young. He had long grey hair that ended at his elbows. He didn’t smile or give any hint that he had emotion. He chuckled at the site of Mack and turned to open the door.
Mack’s eyes widened. The room was huge. The walls were painted a bright blue with a red eagle on the opposite side of him. There had to be at least a thousand computers in the room. Each one manned by a different person.
“Welcome to Headquarters.” the old man said, smiling now.
Mack still had his eyes widened; in awe of the room.
“You got a theiroid problem or something, kid?” the man asked, sarcastically.
Mack lowered his eyes and scowled.
The man led Mack through a row of computers and users to an office surrounded on all sides by windows. The man opened the door to the office and Mack stepped inside.
The man sat down.
“By the way, my name is Quentin Carmichael.”
Mack nodded.
“Do you give intros or answer questions?”
Mack narrowed his eyes. He knew what the guy was getting at, but why this late?
“At the door, I mean. You never answered the question and now you won’t even give me your own damn name.”
Quentin turned around to a desk and shuffled through some papers.
Mack wanted to speak, but he hesitated. Finally, he gave in.
“My name is Mackenzie Heston, but people call me Mack.”
Quentin did not respond. He just kept shuffling through his papers. Mack rolled his eyes and began to speak again.
“I didn’t open the door because I was afraid of what might be on the other side.”
This time Quentin turned around. He smiled and began to laugh hysterically. Mack smiled and began to chuckle. Now that he thought about it, that was pretty stupid of him to admit that. Quentin stopped laughing.
“Idiot.” he said, with out emotion.
This was going to be a long night.
The year is 2011. The United States Congress passed a new program called Engitech Systems. It was supposed to be designed to track registered criminals, sex offenders, and the like. Five years later they passed a sixty-five billion dollar increase to their spending. They upgraded their systems and produced a line of new advanced tracking systems. Namely, one called Nitroware, was the most idealistic. It called for every person in the country to be outfitted with a tracking device for “safety”.
The head of the company, Saul Aarons introduced Nitroware to Congress. They deliberated for days and days and finally they passed a simple bill stating that all people fourteen and over were to have a Nitroware tracking system installed in their cerebellum.
At first, everything was fine. People went on with their daily lives; work, play, eating, etc. After a while the devices started to malfunction and would detonate inside the person’s body. A total of sixty-million people died in the first five months of Nitroware’s production.
Engitech closed down for eight years. They went back to the drawing board and developed a new system that wouldn’t detonate or malfunction at all. You didn’t need to replace it or fix it, it was invincible. About the time Congress repassed the bill for the new tracking devices, the CIA became aware of a situation involving the current president. Three months later he was impeached. The Vice President was then inaugarated into office.
On the surface, Nigel Warren III looked like a normal country loving president. However, behind the scenes he had forcefully ordered Saul Aarons to install a sort of software update to the tracking systems. The software was ordered to be progammed so that sublymonal messages could be transfered into the brain.
With this, a “zombie” army was at Nigel’s control. People expected a violent revolution, but there was none. Instead, german computer nerds and hackers smuggled themselves across the narrow gap between Russia and Alaska. They would hide out in old storage facilities and kidnap people and surgically remove the tracking devices. The hideouts they used were called “Nests”. Because of the threat of being discovered, they would always move around so they couldn’t be caught as easily.
Now a tech war rages on against Nigel and Engitech and this is where our story begins.
CHAPTER ONE
His heart was beating faster than he was running. How could they have found him? He was using a firewall. No matter, he could run faster than those damn enforcers. He ran around into a dark alley way. Screaming sirens from police cars ran past him. He took a cell phone out of his pocket. He dialed a series of numbers, nine to be exact. Dialing a regular phone number could be traced. He put the phone up to his ear. There was a ringing sound.
“Yea?”
“It’s Mack. I got what we were looking for.”
“Cops?”
“Ya they chased me past Grand Central and I’m pinned in some damn alley way waiting for a time to leave.”
“I’ll send one of the guys to pick you up.”
“Alright, I’ll be here.”
“Bye.”
He took the cell phone and stuck it in his jacket pocket. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and shook the dust from his thick brown hair.
Mack waited and waited. Finally, a figure on a sports bike appeared at the opening of the alley way. The figure signaled for the Mack to come to them. Cautiously, Mack sprinted to the figure. He stood at the bike for a moment of silence. Then the figure handed him a helmet and said,
“Get on.”
Mack nodded and hopped on the bike. The engine fire up and they took off. They zoomed past streets of houses and working districts. They were half way past Grand Central when two black cop cars pulled along side them.
“Shit! They’re enforcers!” the man on the bike screamed.
“What do you say we take the subway?” Mack replied, patting the man on his shoulder.
The man hit the brakes! Did a doughnut and took off down the street that led to the stairs of Grand Central. The black cars had already caught up with them. Desperate, the man hit his Nitro button and they took off up the stairs. They crashed through the glass doors of Grand Central. People began to scream and run out of the way as the bike flew through the air and landed on the marble ground.
There was no sign of the cops that had been chasing them. The man on the bike hit the brakes and jumped off the bike. He walked to the side of Mack and asked him if he was alright. As the man finished the sentence, a bullet came from the entrance of Grand Central and struck the man right in the temple. His limp body fell to the ground and Mack slid to the front of the bike, turned it on, and took off.
He realized that there was no real exit, so he had to make one. He started up the engine and took off towards the largest window in the building. Bullets flew past his head and shattered the window for him. He closed his eyes as the bike flew out the window and onto the street. Mack hit the brakes once more, turned around to assess the situation, checked his pocket for the objective, and took off down the street.
CHAPTER 2
Mack roared across the streets. The lights blurred as he sped faster and faster. Periodically, he looked back to see if he was being followed. There was nothing.
He came to a stoplight and slowed down. He looked around the crosswalk and streets to see if he had any pursuers; again, nothing. The light turned green and he took a slow turn to the left. When he hit the the trafficless street, he once again sped off back to base.
About fifteen or so minutes later, Mack appeared at a car garage. He stepped off the bike and put his helmet on the handlebar. As before, he looked around to see his surrounding. It was starting to annoy him, but he was safe. He came up to the giant steel door and tapped his knuckle incrementally on it. The door slowly ascended. Mack went back and propped the bike up and walked into the garage.
Once he put the bike in a appropriate place, he was ushered to a back room by two muscular bodyguards. They led him through the door. Mack bowed his head and took a seat in front of a desk.
“He will be in soon.” the bodyguard said.
It seemed like only moments before I tall lean figure came in from the door to the far right of Mack. His face was covered by a ski mask and he was wearing a expensive looking white suit. Mack gulped and wiped the sweat from his forehead. The man stretched out his hand.
“I would like to appropriate.” he said, grinning.
Mack walked over to the desk and handed the man a small box wrapped in a small bag. The man nodded and Mack went back to his seat. The man waved his hand at the bodyguards and they left the room.
“Where’s the man I sent to pick you up?” the man asked.
’He’s -" Mack was cut off.
“I know.” he said, frowning.
The man stood up and walked over to a corner of the room. There was a small safe. It was silver with a red combination lock.
“You have no idea how much this means to your cause”. the man said, spinning the lock and opening it.
Mack said nothing. The man looked at him. He had a wad of cash in his hand. He handed it to Mack. He smiled and grabbed the cash. The man nodded for him to leave and Mack slowly stood up and exited the room. He walked out to the garage and two men again ushered him to a BMW. He got in the back and the two climbed in the front. The car roared to life and they backed out of the garage and back onto the street.
“Where are we going?” Mack asked, nervous and scared.
“Headquarters.” the man in the passenger said, looking back at Mack.
Mack smiled and chuckled. The man smiled as well and they took off down the street.
Chapter 3
The car came to a halt at a large storage building. It was blandly colored and the sign read “EZ Free Storage”. Although, some letters were missing. The man in the passenger side stepped out first and opened the door for Mack. Mack hesitated and slowly climbed out. The driver came out and stretched his arms.
“Let’s go.” the driver said, almost nervously.
The three men came to a blue garage door. The driver did a series of knocks and the door creaked then slowly ascended. The driver walked in and signaled for Mack and the other man to follow.
As they walked in, two guards approached and the two men nodded and walked down a hall talking and laughing. Mack looked at them. He was alone now. One guard tapped Mack’s shoulder, signaling for him to move forward. They came to another door and the two guards walked away. Mack was confused. Was he supposed to open the door? He reached for the knob, but hesistated and pulled back.
“Funny.” a voice said coming from the back. “Funny, most people would open the door without thought. Why didn’t you?”
Mack was too scared to turn around or even answer the question. The man came around Mack so that he could see at him. He was old, but he looked young. He had long grey hair that ended at his elbows. He didn’t smile or give any hint that he had emotion. He chuckled at the site of Mack and turned to open the door.
Mack’s eyes widened. The room was huge. The walls were painted a bright blue with a red eagle on the opposite side of him. There had to be at least a thousand computers in the room. Each one manned by a different person.
“Welcome to Headquarters.” the old man said, smiling now.
Mack still had his eyes widened; in awe of the room.
“You got a theiroid problem or something, kid?” the man asked, sarcastically.
Mack lowered his eyes and scowled.
The man led Mack through a row of computers and users to an office surrounded on all sides by windows. The man opened the door to the office and Mack stepped inside.
The man sat down.
“By the way, my name is Quentin Carmichael.”
Mack nodded.
“Do you give intros or answer questions?”
Mack narrowed his eyes. He knew what the guy was getting at, but why this late?
“At the door, I mean. You never answered the question and now you won’t even give me your own damn name.”
Quentin turned around to a desk and shuffled through some papers.
Mack wanted to speak, but he hesitated. Finally, he gave in.
“My name is Mackenzie Heston, but people call me Mack.”
Quentin did not respond. He just kept shuffling through his papers. Mack rolled his eyes and began to speak again.
“I didn’t open the door because I was afraid of what might be on the other side.”
This time Quentin turned around. He smiled and began to laugh hysterically. Mack smiled and began to chuckle. Now that he thought about it, that was pretty stupid of him to admit that. Quentin stopped laughing.
“Idiot.” he said, with out emotion.
This was going to be a long night.
Last edited by Areoin on Sat Apr 18, 2009 11:09 am; edited 3 times in total
