Seán continued to crawl through the air vent. It went straight ahead, every seven feet having steel grates that gave access to the rooms of the third floor. He watched the live video feed on his glasses, observing the two men staring down at Jameson, who was helplessly thrashing in his the wooden chair he was strapped in. The two lunkheads stood proud, arms crossed, and having a grin on their faces that made Seán's blood boil.
"Which room is he in?" The agent whispered, determination to save Jameson coursing through his veins.
"He's in the last room. Straight ahead," Robin answered, "May I ask who is Jameson?"
"He's an old childhood friend of mine," Seán recalled, picturing himself in his early elementary days, "As a matter of fact, it's the first time I'll be seeing him in years."
"The question is why is he here?"
"I guess we're gonna have to find out. We'll get him then the BDSM device - That name, God," He cringed, tightly shutting his eyes for a second and biting the inside of his cheek.
"Dark's device is in the room beside the one Jameson's in. You could easily get there through the vents right after you rescue your friend."
"Got it."
He approached the vent cover that overlooked the said room, spotting fancy-dressed Jameson just beneath him through the vent cover's grills. Laying flat on his belly, Seán shifted a little and saw the two henchmen with their backs turned, now walking towards the door and exiting the room.
Seizing the opportunity, Sean pushed down the lid but grasped it in his hand, preventing it from falling to the floor some eight feet below. He then pulled it back inside and stuck his feet out in the open, carefully lowering himself inside the room.
Suddenly, the tear in his pants got caught in the corner.
With a soft whimper, Seán was flipped upside down. The added weight caused his pants to tear even more. He was dangling by a piece of cloth caught in the corner of the aluminum vent.
Jameson looked up and inaudibly gasped upon seeing his face just a foot away from Seán's.
"Hey Dapper," Seán greeted, "Uh... Spider-Jack to the rescue? Heh," The YouTuber forced a half-smile, feeling his face heat up as blood rushed to his head.
Jameson tilted his head to the side like a curious child, mouth hanging open and unable to answer as he watched Seán struggle to get himself down.
"These pants are nothing but trouble," He sighed, looking around the room as he slowly spun around like the toys hanging over a baby's crib.
The room was mostly empty save for a couple of crates stacked up in one corner near the door. The place was mostly painted in the same dull grey as the outside, and brightly illuminated by two fluorescent lights on the ceiling. There was a window, but it had bars roughly an inch thick.
"So, my old friend, how have you been?" The agent asked as he faced Jameson, his hand reaching up to the tear in his pants, "It's been years."
Finally being able to get a closer look of his friend, Seán saw bruises on Jameson's cheek and forehead, the latter looking like blunt force trauma. He was most likely hit in the head and knocked out before being brought here.
"Seán, you better hurry it up," PixlPit frantically said, "Hurry it up before-"
The door swung open with a piercing squeal.
"Oh look! An Irish Piñata!" A stranger's voice said.
The agent's heart dropped to his stomach, even though it should've dropped to his head since he was upside down.
Shit. The men have returned. And they were armed with aluminum baseball bats.
"Agent JacksepticSPY," The blonde-haired leader said, "Last time we met you were a damsel-in-distress."
"Haha, cute," Seán fumbled for his belt.
The two surrounded him. But before they could do some damage, Seán slipped off the pants and landed on the other henchman, teabagging him with his now-exposed flamingo shorts.
He then sprung to his feet, kicking the baseball bat from the downed goon's hand up to his own, grabbing it in mid-air. The swift movement sent a cold gust of wind up his shorts, giving him goosebumps.
The leader was at least six feet, slightly taller and bulkier than Seán's meager five-foot-ten height. The man pounced, swinging his bat at the YouTuber who in turn crouched down, his body barely clearing the direction of the weapon. Seán feeling the weapon brush past strands of his green hair on the top of his head.
Still in his crouched stance, Seán grabbed his bat with two hands and jabbed it up at the goon, landing a solid blow to his jaw. A loud, pained grunt came from the blonde leader, clutching his throbbing chin from the pain.
The Irishman kicked him away, "Who you calling a damsel-in-distress, bitch?" He gloated, brushing his messy green hair to the side.
Suddenly the second goon grabbed both ends of Seán's bat, bringing it up and trapping him in a chokehold. The agent felt the cold aluminum press on his neck, restricting the airflow into his throat. He gasped for air as the man pulled him back, pulling the weapon up higher until the agent's feet barely touched the ground.
However, during the struggle, Sean was able to kick Jameson to the side, knocking him off balance and breaking the wooden chair.
With all his strength, Seán desperately tried to counter the bat, pushing it away from his neck. His heart raced, seeing the leader regain his senses and see him incapacitated. He released one hand and repeatedly hit the man behind him with his elbow, hitting the gut countless times.
Just as the leader came within reach, Seán used the leader as leverage and pushed him against himself, flipping over the other goon and ending up standing behind him. With a powerful kick to the back of the knee, the agent sent the second generic goon to his knees before finishing him off with a roundhouse kick to the side of the head.
Then Seán felt pain on his side. He had taken a hit from the baseball bat.
"FUCK! That hurt," The agent fell to the floor, the blow significantly weakening him.
"Duh," The leader towered over him, hitting him again, the impact making a loud thunk on his back.
Seán rolled on his back, looking straight up at his assailant.
"This is the end for you, Jack. Any last words?" He raised the bat over his head.
"Yeah," Seán flashed a smirk, "You gotta stop having your cliché one-liners. You just bought him time."
"'Him'?" The leader saw the Irishman's brilliant blue eyes dart from him to behind him.
The second he turned around, Jameson swung as hard as he could with a piece of the chair's backrest, hitting the man in the face, the impact breaking the backrest into pieces.
Catching his breath, he looked up at Jameson who raised an eyebrow and held a thumbs up, his gesture asking: 'Are you alright?'
Despite his friend being mute, Seán was able to understand what he meant.
"I'm fine, Dapper," He grunted, taking Jameson's hand reaching out to pull him up.
Jameson wiggled his tiny black mustache, pulling out his pocket watch. He pulled Seán into a hug first, pointed at him then at the watch.
"I know, man. I haven't seen you since-"
Dapper held up all ten fingers.
"Yeah, ten years," Seán nodded, "What are you doing here?"
Jameson shrugged at little but then gasped, and he appeared to recall a bit.
'I think they're coercing me to help them with something,' He gestured.
"Well, looks like you're in pretty deep shit, Dapper," The agent dusted himself off.
Jameson answered with a nod.
"Robin, wh-?" He reached for the earpiece on his right ear but finding it missing. The agent looked around. Then he saw a small pancaked ear bud on the floor, there was an outline of a sole on it. "Oh shite."
Suddenly on his left lens, a message popped up, much like a Facebook chat with the message in a bubble. It read:
Sean, you gotta get outta there. The men are coming your way! - Pixl
"Time to go, man," He pulled the crate from the corner and dragged it under the opening on the ceiling, feeling quite relieved that his legs were now free from those tight slacks.
After pulling Jameson into the air vent with him, he retraced his steps, stopping before another exit that led to the adjacent room. And right on cue, Robin's message popped up:
That's the BDSM room.
Seán shook his head, "I wonder if he meant by BDSM if it's the room where Dark's device is or it's the room filled with kinky shit found in Fifty Shades of Grey."
He peeked through the slits, seeing the room lit in the same dim light as the one they had previously been in. It was crowded in there. From what Seán saw, there were different types of equipment, ranging from tiny transmitters to large, full scale satellite dishes he could remember some were on Dark's Space Station. In the middle were five rows of tables, much like one would see in a school laboratory, overflowing with spare parts and new inventions. The room had a window, but it too, was reinforced with steel bars. Nothing gets in and nothing gets out.
Seán took out his phone from inside his coat and texted Robin. Within seconds he got a reply, popping up on his lens:
It's the one where a single spotlight shines down on, much like a very important object subtly highlighted in video games.
"Alright," Seán took off the lid but stopped and looked at Jameson, "You wait here, I'm just gonna get something down there."
Dapper nodded, smiling a little and wiggling his mustache.
Seán dropped down in the room, immediately crouching between the tables. Okay, it's the one highlighted among the other generic props. He told himself as he moved forward, treading the straight path in front of him.
Upon reaching the end of the aisle, the YouTuber moved to the adjacent row. His eyes immediately caught the obvious; right at the end of the hall sitting on top of a table was a shoebox-sized device with a single desk lamp shining down on it.
Bingo. Seán thought.
Just as he was about to make a move, three of Dark's men emerged from the other side equipped with guns, all aimed at him.
Seán retreated. He hid behind the side of the table as bullets flew everywhere, blowing holes in the wall and other equipment in the line of fire.
Another window on his glasses popped up. It was a sent by Robin showing the video feed of the very room he was in. He saw himself hiding behind the counter, the camera being situated on the corner above him.
To his surprise, he saw goons closing in on him from every direction. It was like a pack of wolves approaching their prey for the kill.
How the fuck am I gonna get out of this shit now? He bit his lip, his heart rising to his throat and his pulse beating faster than he could ever imagine it doing. He drew out his gun and cocked it.
He was suddenly startled by a notification on his lens:
S.H.V.R. Filter Upload Complete.
It was followed by yet another message from Agent PixlPit.
Use it. NOW.
The urgency of the message made Seán follow it without any doubt. He tapped the side of the frame of his glasses. A single sweep across his lens turned everything white; the tables, chairs and gadgets were converted into white polygons. However, the video feed of him in the room remained, giving him still some semblance of the real world.
He turned his head and looked around the corner. The three men who were firing at him were now turned into red humanoid figures, contrasting the blinding white of the environment.
"It accurately predicts their move before they can even make the move," An AI voice said, "Super Hot VR mode activated."