Broker

The old theme park was a ruin now. The Ferris wheel had collapsed over the arcade, bits of twisted steel scattered across the main thoroughfare. The remains of one of the roller coasters were strewn over the old log flume, the statue of the lumberjack crushed by one of the remaining cars. The smell of smoke permeated everything, mixing with the scent of blood and an odd tang that hinted of ozone. It was a scene of utter devastation.

He shot a look towards Nate, the field producer. The muscular man was leaning over a folding table where a few computers had been set up beneath the production tent. Nate looked up from the screen and held his fingers up before beginning to count down. Five, four, three, two, one.

A man’s voice popped into his earpiece. <”...and now we head over to southern Tennessee with Jay Cash. Hey, Jay, that’s one heck of a mess. What are we seeing?”>

Jay raised his microphone a little. “Well, Randy, I’m standing here at the site of the defunct Sonnyworld, where a dungeon had formed shortly after the Liberty War,” he said. “Just a few hours ago a group of villains calling themselves the ‘Cryptids’ attacked the dungeon while it was being assessed by a Pandora scouting crew. According to what we know, the fight was pushed out of the dungeon and into the park.” He turned and gestured around himself. “You can see the aftermath.”

“What happened to the Cryptids?” Randy asked into his earpiece.

“The Pandora official here at the scene has informed us that three of the five members of the Cryptids were arrested by the scouts that held their ground and the responding heroes that arrived shortly thereafter,” Jay said before turning his eyes towards another man standing off to the side and watching him carefully. He met the man’s eyes and restrained the urge to smile. “Agent Lindt is actually here with us right now. Let me see if I can get a word with him.”

Jay heard a small chuckle in his earpiece as he made an inviting gesture towards the official, who scowled openly at him. A moment later, they were standing side-to-side, with Agent Lindt doing his best to keep a straight face. “Agent Lindt, thank you for taking the time to talk to us!”

Lindt, a man in his mid-thirties with brown hair tied neatly in a ponytail and a carefully styled beard, gave his best diplomatic smile. “Always a pleasure, Jay,” he said.

“Any chance we can know which heroes intervened to save the day?” Jay asked.

“It’s a small mixed team of Liberty War veterans and heroes from the Tennessee and Mississippi guilds,” Lindt said. “For operational security reasons, I can’t disclose who is who. I hope you understand.”

Jay raised an eyebrow. “It’s a shame we don’t have anyone to thank for holding down the fort for us. How long is their tour here going to be?” he asked.

“A few weeks before they get cycled out for the next group,” Lindt said. “I can’t be specific. We’re coordinating with the Governor to make sure that all bases are covered while the team patrols and hunts for the remaining monsters from the dungeon break.”

Jay straightened a little, catching onto a juicy tidbit. “Coordinating with the Governor? The last report said that the Pandora Committee rejected support from the Tennessee National Guard. Has that changed?”

Lindt’s expression didn’t change, but his body language shifted slightly. “While the National Guard is a valued and important part of the United States’ homeland defense, and they have made strides in anti-monster preparedness with post-Pandora munitions, this is a matter that involves villains and monsters far stronger than hounds and lurkers,” Lindt said carefully. “As such, the bulk of the forces here are Pandora soldiers.”

“You haven’t had any problems with using foreign soldiers to occupy land on US soil?” Jay asked pointedly and got a cough in his earpiece. He wasn’t going to relent, though. “And is there any truth to the rumors that the towns and cities here and abroad that were destroyed during the conflict are currently being converted into Pandora bases?”

Lindt’s body language turned even more guarded even as he laughed. “I’m afraid that’s a bit above my pay grade to have any solid information for you. I do want to remind you that the Pandora Committee is a neutral, UN-aligned organization. It’s a peacekeeping body that has bylaws about impinging on sovereignty.”

“Wouldn’t it be more accurate to say that the UN is Pandora Committee aligned-” He was cut off as a chime rang in his ear, letting him know that headquarters had moved on to a new topic and they were no longer live. He scoffed and lowered his microphone while Lidnt glared at him. He shrugged good-naturedly at the guy only to get a cold shoulder as the man walked away. Jay rolled his eyes. “So much for transparency.”

“Went in a little hot there, Jay?” Nate called over to him.

Jay walked over and set his mic down next to the computer. “Oh please, that was nothing,” he said and squinted at the screen. “What are the execs saying?” he asked and looked back at Nate. Nate was a big guy who would have fit in without issue at a professional wrestling event. His nearly bald head was covered in a thin layer of black hair, and his chin was shaved to a nearly shiny clean. 

Nate clicked his tongue. “Mikey loved every second of it. So despite pissing off the Pandora official who’s in charge of our security, it looks like you might just be getting that next big gig.”

Jay grinned. “It’s all about asking the right questions, man,” he said and clapped Nate on the shoulder. “Lunch ready?”

The producer checked his watch. “It’s gonna be crowded over at that tent. Might want to wait.”

Jay shrugged and turned away with a smirk. “I’ll bring something back for you,” he said and wandered off from the production tent towards the small town of tents, RVs, and trailers that were set up around the area. He walked past one of the metal trailers and checked himself in the reflection. Jeffrey “Jay” Cash was a good-looking guy, not a model by any stretch of the imagination, but he was confident in his looks. He had long, strawberry-blonde hair pulled back into a lazy ponytail and a narrow face. His eyes were a deep brown, almost black, that clashed pretty sharply with his gregarious demeanor.

He left his reflection behind and wandered towards the crowded center of the tent village, hands in his pockets as he eyed the cluster of people and fell into the flow. One step forward, another to the left, two steps to the right, pivot, a step forward, sidestep, and one more step forward. He stopped in front of the table and smiled at the woman standing across from him, who was frantically trying to keep up with orders with the rest of her team. She turned to him and blinked with surprise. “Ah! I didn’t see you there!”

He grinned. “No biggie,” he said and snatched up a pair of pre-wrapped trays. “One for the boss,” he said and took a lazy step back before she even had a chance to respond. He was out of the crowd and walking back towards the producer’s tent before anyone even realized he was there. 

Some light-touched could fly. Others could throw flames from their hands or even impose their will on the force of gravity. Jay? Jay could always find the path to his destination. It wasn’t a matter of luck or manipulating one force or another. It was all about timing and control over his body. Hitting every green light? Piece of cake. Making his way through a crowd? Child’s play. With deft hands and a keen eye, he was like a ghost.

Jay set the trays down on the table next to Nate’s computer, and the producer looked up at him in surprise. “You’re back already?”

Jay shrugged. “Wasn’t that busy.”

Nate squinted at him and looked towards the crowd. “Uh-huh, that’s cheating, Jay.”

“Nobody noticed.” Jay said with a smirk.

“Alright, fine, thanks for the food, man. I’ve got some good news to wrap up your day,” he said and picked one of the trays up, unwrapping it. “Oh, meatballs. Nice.”

Jay picked up his own tray and peered beneath the foil. He’d eat later. “What’s the big news?”

“Execs got some inside information about the next set of preliminaries for the ASTA thing,” Nate said. “You're going. Looks like pissing off Lindt paid off, Mister Cash.”

Foil crinkled as Jay went still and looked up to meet a smiling Nate’s eyes. He set the tray down and crossed his arms, glancing around surreptitiously to make sure nobody was listening in. “Where am I going?” he asked.

Nate leaned in. “Dharan. Chernovna’s got something big planned.”

Jay whistled appreciatively and plucked his tray off the table, raising it up a bit in a faux toast. “You’re the best, Nate. Drinks tonight?”

“Sounds good. Take a load off, I got work to do,” the producer agreed.

“Will do,” Jay said and walked away, making for the small cluster of trailers that were designated for their broadcast company. A nervous thrill ran through him as he walked, his eyes fixed on one trailer in particular. He was suddenly hyper-aware of the phone in his pocket. He needed to make a call before he did anything else. His easy smile slipped into a blank expression as he pushed unnecessary and damning thoughts out. In this new world, it was dangerous to focus on the wrong thing at the wrong time.

He arrived at the door to his trailer and unlocked it quickly, pushing down on the handle. He paused when the door didn’t open right away. It felt heavy. His stony expression went almost brittle, and he swallowed before putting a bit more strength into it and the door gave way. It felt like it weighed over a hundred pounds. He stepped inside and moved to shut the door only for it to become weightless again. He felt a bead of sweat drip down his brow as he locked the door.

The snarky remark he had in mind died as he considered how to present himself. Old habits from a life as a con man and pickpocket roared up into his thoughts. He cleared his throat and set the food on the counter before making his way through the door that split the trailer in half. While the previous space was basically a cramped lounge and kitchenette, this new space was a mixture of bedroom and office. The floor beneath him creaked slightly, and he looked to the desk where a man was waiting for him.

He was old, probably in his sixties or seventies, his skin pale and wrinkled. His sharp eyes were set deep into his face and gleamed with keen intellect. He wore a dapper suit and top hat to cover his wispy white hair. The feature that drew Jay’s attention the most, though, was the cane the man was leaning on. The metal floor beneath it bowed slightly under it. Jay cleared his throat. “I hope you weren’t waiting long, sir.”

Maximilian chortled. “Hardly, son. A few hours in a nice trailer like this is good for these old bones. I got a nice rest.”

Jay nodded. “Good to hear. I got the gig at the ASTA event.”

The old man grinned. “Then you have a call to make.”

Jay reached for his pocket, and the old man held up his hand. “No, no,” he said. “That’s too insecure. I was sent to facilitate a different form of communication.”

“I didn’t know you had that kind of ability,” Jay said, his habitual curiosity getting the better of him before he could shut his mouth.

“I don’t!” Maximilian laughed and rose to his feet with an easy movement that belied his age. He stepped to the side and gestured to the desk. “Sit down.”

Jay nodded and walked over to the desk, pulling out the chair and sitting down while Maximilian reached into his coat and pulled out a pouch and what looked like a memo pad. The old man flipped through the memo pad and mumbled to himself before approaching the desk and opening up the pouch. He started to sprinkle a fine powder onto the desk that glittered with what looked like metal flakes that Jay didn’t immediately recognize. The powder was drawn into a circle with a number of odd lines and symbols. They were unlike anything he’d ever seen, and he’d done a little reading up on the occult in high school.

“What is this?” Jay asked as the old man took off his hat and reached into it.

“Magic,” Maximilian said and plucked a glass sphere from within the hat. He placed it in the center of the circle.

“An ability?” Jay pressed.

“No,” Maximilian said with a chuckle and met Jay’s eyes. “Son, he sees the world very differently from the rest of us. With that comes knowledge and truths that we can only begin to imagine and comprehend. Just roll with it.”

Jay swallowed hard and looked down at the sphere of glass as Maximilian checked his notes. He mumbled something before pulling a match from his pocket, lighting it, and touching the dust. It ignited immediately, and Jay nearly pulled back before the flames vanished and turned into glowing lines of light that rose off the table and spun. They collapsed inward before slamming into the glass ball.

The ball began to glow.

Jay felt a thrill spiderwalk its way up his spine.

A golden eye appeared in it.

“Drifter,” a hard voice said. “You have a report for me?”

Mimir. I thought I might be reporting to The Major or something, but… He realized he was still holding his breath and coughed, nodding quickly. “Yes, sir, I do. I got the gig for the ASTA Competition. They’re sending me to Dharan.”

The glowing eye went still for a moment before the voice came again. “I see. She’s going to use clearing the break as the preliminaries for her game. Follow through. I will send Max with you. He knows what he needs to do. Do your job and continue with your role - undermine the Committee and ASTA. Make sure the public is asking questions.”

Jay nodded quickly. “Is there anything else?”

“I may have you take on a more active role for this,” Mimir said. “Remain flexible. You’ve done good work so far. Keep it up, Vigilante.”

“I would have gone villain if it wasn’t for you guys,” Jay said. “I won’t let you down.”

“I’m sure you won’t. Good luck, Drifter.”

JOIN THE DISCORD!