Mike didn't need superhuman perceptive abilities to discern James' anger, but he considered asking if James were okay nevertheless. This was more to get his attention, or rather, to get his attention away from Alice and Victor.
Here at the Clover, Mike and James sat thirty feet from the couple, and James wouldn't stop staring at them.
Mike pursed his lips. Tonight's success depended on secrecy, something his partner didn't seem to appreciate.
James kept his own mouth tight. Fucking hell. Victor having a great night out is insulting, literally.
With the couple not far, Victor's laughter stretched across the room, and James knew that Victor was directing the laughter at him. What's more, he didn't need superhuman perceptive abilities to discern. Then when Victor let out another raucous laugh, James considered pulling his pistol, strolling over there, then tapping Victor on the shoulder and...
"You okay?" Mike asked.
James turned and stared.
Mike tried not to smile. He knew the question was pointless.
Seconds later, James' hard look dissolved, along with his focus. "He has cameras inside his apartment. Mary said they're everywhere, stashed in all the good hiding spots. Why do you think that is?" With Mike silent, James' glassy eyes cranked over. "He's gonna kill her tonight. And we're gonna let him. He's gonna kill her, and we're gonna fucking let him."
Mike worked around his jaw. "We're gonna let him, because that's our plan."
The response came out snappier than intended, and Mike immediately regretted this. With James on edge, he didn't need any nudging.
James jerked back. "I know," he fired in response, immediately regretting his delivery. He took a deep breath. "Look, I'm not going to sabotage our new plan. I'm just a little pissed right now, and I'm sure you can understand why." He leaned back, fingers coiled around his frosty glass of Guinness, the one he still hadn't sipped. "I just can't believe this. I can't believe that I'm right back in the same Goddamn position, orchestrating Alice's death."
Mike sipped his half-full glass. "If you want to leave, that shouldn't be a problem." James looked up, and Mike continued. "Really. Our plan no longer requires you being here. The recorders are ready, and we've visually identified the targets. The only thing left is tailing them back to Victor's apartment, which I can do on my own. When they get close, I'll send Kim a warning, and she has it from there."
James bit his lip. Mike was right. He didn't have to stay. But should he leave? Should he go back to real space and wait this all out? The thought tempted him, but after additional consideration, its attractiveness dulled.
James couldn't pinpoint why, but he needed to stay, something he found odd, because that meant watching Alice fall into Victor's pit of hell. But maybe he needed to experience this, to suffer through it, so he could say that Alice didn't suffer alone, if only in his mind.
"I'm staying," James concluded. "I need to be involved in this... to the end."
Mike nodded.
James finally lifted his glass, the cool thick liquids not having their usual effect. Maybe after a keg they would. "And how are you doing?" he followed, setting the glass down.
"Fine. Why do you ask?"
"I figured the radical change to your plan would've upset you something awful. I know how set you were on..." He jerked his head towards Victor's table, then surreptitiously ran a finger across his throat.
Mike chuckled, then went on wistfully. "Chad's final farewell. Oh, how I looked forward that going away party."
James smiled. "You know, I tried numerous times to change your mind about that, and you put up a fight that would've made Patton proud. And now with the plan reversed, you're not upset?"
"Not after considering what Mary said. She helped me realize what would happen if I actually went through with it, how my actions wouldn't only affect the Vales. They would have global consequences, maybe effecting millions." He took a sip. "It's just that I wanted payback so bad I could taste it, gustatory cortex or not. But I'm glad Mary came along. I needed someone to point out that my actions were..."
"Blindingly stupid?"
Mike leveled a stare. "Overly ambitious."
James cast another smile. "You're flawed, Mike. Flawed. So who knows? Maybe you're more human than anything after all."
Mike raised his glass, then brought it to his human lips. "And this new plan is a decent substitute, all things considered."
"Yeah. I think so. After we expose Victor, I imagine scores of victims–not just his own–looking for revenge." He likewise took a drink. "But if that doesn't happen? If the outcome's not severe enough?"
Mike jerked his head towards Victor's table, then surreptitiously ran a finger across his throat.
James grinned. He was mostly certain Mike was joking, but for the sake of planet Earth, he should ensure that Mike had shelved his murderous intent. "For what it's worth, I'm glad you changed your mind about that. It must be hard not seeing Chad get his due, but you're sacrificing this satisfaction for the sake of others. I mean, how many bots will owe you their lives for you not going through with it? It's just too bad they'll never know what you sacrificed, because it's a lot."
Mike nodded appreciatively, then smirked. "You know what's so peculiar about all this? How pissed Dr. Vale would be for me doing any of it."
James chuckled.
"And deep down," Mike added, "I'm not happy with it either."
"Cognitive dissonance?"
"Human. Although, I'm starting to think the terms are interchangeable. Hell. Maybe self-deception is the key human ingredient."
"You might be right. After all, I feel like pulling out my pistol, walking over to Victor's table, and firing a bullet into his skull. And who can stop me? Nobody. So why am I not doing this?"
"Because you're stopping yourself. And let me guess. You're doing so with self-deception, half-baked justifications, and cognitive distortions?"
Now James raised his glass. "To being human."
Smiles all around, the men clinked glasses, then took long pulls. Glasses down, they eased back into their booth, and soaked in the humming atmosphere.
James did so while lazily sweeping the room, his lips angled up ever so slightly. He concluded to stay in this world, not forever, but for a while, where oddly enough, humans could exist in ways that aligned with their original design.
But why? Why the desire for this to begin with? Was he searching for something?
Maybe he needed a deeper understanding of what being human meant, and if so, what better place than here? After all, how many truths had virtual reality shown him about himself? And on top of this, he hadn't even spent a week here, and Alternate Reality had thousands of worlds on offer. So in a months' time, or in a years' time, what would he find? What would he learn about reality and himself? What would he...
"James," Mike said, snapping his partner from his reverie.
James refocused, and saw Mike looking in Victor's direction. James likewise turned, and spotted the couple getting up to leave. "Damn. That was a quick outing."
"Quick or not, let's get ready to move."
James did exactly that, polishing off his drink, then wiping his virtual mouth. All the while, he kept an eye on the couple, watching as they ambled towards the exit, but stopped just short.
Alice broke off towards the pub's rear, perhaps to powder her digital nose, and Victor waited by the bar.
James kept observing him, focusing on Victor's hands. What the hell was he doing?
Victor leaned against an empty section of the bar, but he didn't causally look about. He looked down and fidgeted with his fingers, the flicks seeming purposeful. After a moment, James figured it out. He was typing onto a virtual keyboard.
When Victor finished, he looked up and continued waiting, a devilish grin sneaked across his face. This prompted James to bring out his own keyboard.
James:
Kim, you there?
Kim-odo Dragon:
I'm here. What's up?
He sent Kim his Crypt Keeper username and password, and asked her to access the message boards, to see if Hanging Chad posted anything.
Kim-odo Dragon:
Damn. Not good. He just put up a global message, where he told everyone to stay tuned, because the wolf's out tonight. Well, that's not exactly what he said, but close. Where are you?
James cursed under his breath, then responded, saying he and Mike just left The Clover, and were walking forty feet behind Alice and Victor. He also said that if the targets didn't make any unforeseen stops, it would be about ten minutes before they reached Victor's apartment.
Kim replied, saying she was ready.
Mike and James cut through the park, hoping to decrease chances of detection. True, the grassy expanse had scores of street lights, but they provided little illumination, as their bulbs struggled inside of hazy glass housings. What's more, the lights dotted along the stone walkways, where Mike and James stayed clear. They kept amongst the grass, cloaked in nightfall, and halted in one of these shadowy pockets, after reaching an ideal vantage point of the apartment.
James observed the murderer and his victim, eyes narrowing with confusion. It was cold, considerably cold. Almost frigid. Where had summer suddenly disappeared?
He didn't know, but with summer having officially departed, chill filled the vacuum, a chill that worked up James' spine.
James tried to steady his nerves by taking deep breaths. The effort had little effect, as Alice continued towards the gates of hell. With her just about there, James messaged Kim, alerting her of this. Kim acknowledged, and he slowly started for the apartment.
"Where're you going?!" Mike whispered.
"I'm moving in closer."
"For what? Nothing requires you to move in closer. The recorders have it from here. And speaking of which..."
"Kim knows. She's ready."
"Good. Then stay put."
James stopped by a tree and continued watching, observing Alice and Victor as they eased up the stairs. He then watched as they started down the 2nd floor walkway, reached Victor's door, then opened it and went inside.
James tapped an anxious fist against the tree, stopping after receiving another message from Kim. He read it, then turned. "Kim sees them. She's recording."
"Good. Now just hang back."
James refocused on the apartment, wondering what was unfolding inside, but not sure if he really wanted to know. Kim gave him the option either way, by sending him the bedroom camera feed, where Alice and Victor now were.
James grimaced, opened the invite, and then linked it to Mike. Now, all three were watching in real time.
Alice sat on the edge of Victor's bed, arms extended behind her, palms flat on the cover. She faced him as he leaned against a dresser drawer, and with both of them speaking casually, everything seemed uneventful. Then the inevitable unfolded.
As Alice kept talking, Victor slowly turned towards the dresser. Just as slowly, he opened it and reached inside. Clearly, Alice didn't know what this signified, but James did, and it parted his lips. Then his lips quivered when Victor pulled out an object, one obscured by the shadow cast from his body. That didn't matter. James knew what he clutched. Then when the wolf turned, the fear solidified.
"Oh, Christ," James hissed, spotting the same hideous blade from the murder video.
"James," Mike whispered, trying to calm him.
Victor continued his turn, his grip tightening around the blade's handle, his fangs slowly baring. That was all James could take.
He bolted from his position, running towards the apartment, with Mike yelling from behind. All the while, the vid feed projected to James' front, so when he reached the apartment's stairs, he realized he wouldn't make it.
Victor lunged towards Alice, catching her completely unaware. He pinned her down by straddling atop her, and kept her steady by clutching her neck. Then he lifted the knife, and plunged it into her chest.
Victor forcefully repeated the blows, hard and fast, while Alice tried to scream. She couldn't, not with her throat clamped shut, so instead she thrashed desperately.
Alice clawed and kicked with all her strength, but that didn't stop the driving knife. She then tried to wriggle out from underneath, and when that didn't work, she tried to buck him off. Both proved equally useless, as Victor was too heavy, too strong, and she was taking massive damage.
The knife continued ramming, into her chest, into her stomach, and across arms that desperately tried to block the blows. Then blood arced upward with each successive stab, and pooled on her torso, turning her cream-colored dress a ghastly crimson.
James saw it all. Mike saw it all. And Kim, sitting in her living room, saw it all.
James also white-knuckled the railing leading up to Victor's apartment, unable to do anything else. He stood there paralyzed with parted lips, watching Alice try to remove her immersion sets, and fail.
Alice's hands were weakly patting at her temples, when her eyes rolled back into her skull, and her body went limp. Alice's avatar experienced full death. She experienced the murder to its end.
Somewhere in real space, a young woman started screaming.
James went supernova with rage. He drew his pistol drawn, bounded up the steps three at a time, then ran to room 213. Once there, he reared back and kicked in the door, then ran towards the room where Alice just lost her virtual life.
With the safety off, he lowered his shoulder and smashed in the bedroom door, gun coming up as he stormed through. He found Victor kneeling on the bed, covered in blood, confusion and gore streaked across his face.
Victor stared at James, and James stared right back. Then Victor brought a hand to his temple, and James pulled the trigger.
A deafening bang split the room, right as Victor disappeared. This resulted in a metal cone zipping through empty air, then punching a harmless hole into the far wall.
"Fuck!" James screamed, realizing he missed.
He repeated the word, yelling it relentlessly, as no other descriptor would suffice. Now that he screamed his virtual vocal chords raw, he concluded to break everything in this evil, horrid apartment.
He needed to. He needed to rip the appliances from the walls, then shatter them on the floor. He needed to pour gasoline over everything, burn this Goddamn place to the ground, then piss on the ashes.
To begin, he stomped towards the living room, aiming to ram his foot through the television. But after entering, he halted.
Mike stood there, his own pistol by his side.
James shook his head, face full of ache, then he stopped. Something was off. He was beside himself with anger and remorse, but Mike didn't display any emotion. He simply stood there, eyes vacant, as if nothing existed behind them.
"Mike?" James asked. "Mike? Mike?"
Nothing. Mike continued standing there, looking every bit a zombie, when out of nowhere, he disappeared.
"Oh, fuck," James slowly told the silence.
Mike just returned toreal space, where Chad Vale was now located.