Anarchy Novel "Will" Chapter 4

Hi steemers! I am happy to present my new anarchy themed novel, hot off the press! I will post the entire book for free via steemit posts, a chapter or two at a time.  

Title: Will 

Genre: Science Fiction, Political Thriller, Comedy 

Synopsis: Early 30th Century Earth is literally divided by a mysterious wall. On the dark side of the wall, millions suffer from mind control, despotic rulers, war, pain, and suffering. On the light side of the wall, it is the complete opposite. There is peace, freedom, and prosperity. One day a man from the dark side manages to get to the other side, a fateful event which will change the world forever.

 Happy Reading! Please share!  

 Please note: To begin reading from the beginning, refer to my earlier steemit posts or download the book for free on my blog @   Makingtheoligarchyobsolete.blogspot.com     -

Chapter 4

  The young intelligence operative 0020 was speeding along in his nondescript black SUV down a misty back road in the heavily wooded hills. He was extremely upset at how his meeting with Galvin Creedy had ended. No money? Not yet? What was the hold up? Something didn’t sit well in his stomach. The young spy was normally cool and collected, but this was eating at his nerves. “I’ve gotta talk to agent 0011. He’s the only other person that worked on this project, at least that I know of. He’s logistics, and I’m ops,” he wondered to himself. Continuing to grow more apprehensive, “Why would I be sent to deliver the package? 0011 is technically my superior. Somethin ain’t right, I know it.” Growing defiant, the mercenary thought to himself, “I’ll get my money, one way or another. Just talk to 0011. Those bastards are gonna gimme my money!”     

  After an hour of reckless driving and his mind running itself ragged in circles, the young soldier of fortune was back in the city. He parked the SUV about a block away from his destination, just as protocol demanded. 0020 was a good order follower. He was ignorant and ambitious, which made him extremely easy to manipulate. Now, on top of those undesirable qualities, he was angry.     

  The young man approached a bright little corner shop which had a neon sign that read “Candyland”. The little shop stuck out like a sore thumb in a mostly residential neighborhood of old style duplexes and rusty iron gates. He rang the doorbell as it was after hours and a voice came over the intercom, “Candyland, state your business,” came a terribly nasal female voice. “Special delivery, 20 kilos of sugar,” came the hurried response. He waited for a moment for the door to open and impatiently thought, “Damn automated security systems.” The door popped open accompanied by a loud buzzing sound.      

  He walked briskly through the shop, past candies of all colors, shapes, and sizes. Enough candy inside to keep vast multitudes of dentists in a comfortable amount of work for years. He hurried to the back of the tacky little shop and went down a staircase to the basement. Once in the dingy basement, he approached a clock on the wall, which promply scanned his tongue. After his identity was verified, the worn brick wall parted ways and a secret room appeared. After entering, the wall closed itself immediately.      

  The room was fairly dark except for a desk lamp on one of the broad oak desks which were randomly scattered about. One of the desks was littered with piles of paper of various sizes and colors, some flat as a pancake, others wadded up in disgust. A man’s face was planted in the oak desk amidst the sea of papers. Disgusted with what he saw, 0020 yelled, “Wake up lazy ass! We’ve got problems!” The slouching man in the office chair with his face planted remained that way. This caused an eerie sensation to creep up the spine of the young spy. Rushing over to the motionless creature, 0020 grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him, slowly at first, then growing more violent as the obvious truth emerged. It dawned on 0020 that the icy hand of death was in the room. He broke out in a cold sweat.      

  There was no blood, no evidence of struggle. There were no weapons. Could it be a coincidence? No, don’t be that gullible, he thought. Taking a deep breath, the apprehensive agent tried to reason. Who would do this? And why? Am I next? Should I do anything with the body? Where should I go? Higher, that’s where I need to go. This is big. I was with Galvin Creedy just hours ago. Something’s way wrong. I need to safeguard myself. For now, though, I need to run.     

  If you like what you just read, you can find more of my writings for free on my blog. makingtheoligarchyobsolete.blogspot.com 

You can get a paperback version @ 

http://www.lulu.com/shop/todd-borho/will/paperback/product-22837973.html