Episodes 9-20 of The Coup Conspiracy (dystopian cryptocurrency novel)

Hi guys! As promised, here are episodes 9 thru 20. Apologies for the delay. I'm deep in my current work-in-progress, a supernatural zombie thriller.

Previous Episodes

• Episodes 1-3 of The Coup Conspiracy
• Episodes 4-5 of The Coup Conspiracy
• Episodes 6-8 of The Coup Conspiracy

The United States is in slow-motion economic collapse. The Three Strikes Act funnels the unemployed masses into a national network of work camps for the most trivial of infractions.

Lando Cruz is a scrappy rebel who risks his final strike on the streets of Philadelphia by trading illegal currencies under cover of a burrito stand. He spends his days bribing dirty cops, fending off undercover federal agents and shepherding his little sister through adolescence.

Lando is getting by until beat cops seize his savings and kidnap his sister for ransom. He has thirty days to raise the hard cash he needs to free her before she is sold into sex slavery. His only chance is a lucrative job offer from the black market rebellion's paramilitary startup, the Core. He risks both his life and his principles to get his sister back before time runs out.

Episode 9: Fault

Lando wheeled his cart up to the corner of 7th and Arch, in front of the Fed. No sign of cops. They’re probably on at night. “Breakfast burritos here, delicious low-carb breakfast burritos!” Lando yelled. “They’ll fill —“

A hand slammed down on Lando’s shoulder. “You got your video camera running, Juan Valdez?”

The three cops broke out into laughter.

“Well, good morning, gentlemen!” Lando said. Please, please, don’t get out of hand.

The three cops immediately quieted. Kowalski licked his lips. Sarge scowled. The tall cop wiped his nose.

“Dry mouth, bad breath, bloody nose, yes, I see you fellows have been up all night enjoying some product. You must be starving. How about some nice breakfast burritos and coffee?” With some laxative on the side. Lando suppressed a chuckle.

Sarge punched Lando in the nose.

Lando bent down. “Not the fucking nose again!” Lando danced in pain. He touched his nose. No blood but damn that hurts! “Before we start,” Lando said, “I need your names and badge numbers.”

Kowalski kicked him in the shin. Lando hit the ground.

“That was Kowalski. You’re Sarge. And—“

The tall cop pulled a piece of paper out of his front shirt pocket and threw it down at Lando. “Jaffari: J-A-F-F-A-R-I. 7345. Now, hand over the tablet.”

Lando struggled to get to his feet. “Afraid I can’t do that gentlemen. You see, I donated all my bitcoin to Our Lady of Mercy Hospital early this morning.”

Kowalski’s radio crackled. “All units, all units. Code 4413, high-speed chase. Feds requesting assistance. 5th and Arch. All units, a federal request for assistance.”

Jaffari looked at Sarge. “4413?”

“IPEC. That’s pharma.” Sarge thought for a moment. “Let’s move our meeting around the corner.”

Kowalski’s radio crackled again. “Sergeant Johnson, the Intellectual Property Enforcement Commission requests your assistance at 6th and Arch. Code 2. Sergeant Johnson?”

“Shit,” Sarge said. “Okay, you two, grab his —“

Lando bolted. In one clean motion, he disabled his cart’s brake, separated the food cart from the bicycle and peddled across the street. Lando looked back to see the food cart rolling toward the street. My cart.

Jaffari ransacked the food cart. Kowalski and Sarge ran after Lando, holding their hats tight to their heads and their sidearms to their hips. An old Volkswagen Beetle with huge wheels and a roaring engine came flying up the street. They stopped short to avoid getting hit by it. The Beetle swerved to miss a parked car, almost hitting Lando.

“Sarge, there ain’t shit in this cart!” Jaffari said. He kicked Lando’s food cart into the street.

Kowalski and Sarge took a step into the street again. A police car, sirens whining, flew up the street. They stepped back. Lando’s food cart rolled into the street.

Lando stopped to watch and outstretched a hand. “No!”

The police car slammed into Lando’s food cart. The sun-beaten plastic walls disintegrated into shards. The refried beans splashed onto the windshield and top of the car. A wheel got stuck in the police car’s wheel well, causing it to swerve to the right. The awning collapsed onto the windshield. The car careened into the lobby of the Federal Reserve Bank of Philadelphia and came to a stop. Glass tinkled to the cement.

Lando sniffed the spicy tang of crushed jalapeños in the air. I always wanted to get my beans into the Fed building.

A black helicopter approached the scene. Sarge, Jaffari and Kowalski ran around the corner, then ran back. Sarge grabbed his shoulder mic. “Charles ninety-six arriving on scene with backup. Patrol officers down. We’ve got this covered. Call off the chopper.”

The reply came back, “Negative Charles ninety-six. IPEC chopper. Render assistance. Over and out.” Sarge punched the air. “Go pull those guys out of the car. We’re about to have the world fall on us. I’ll handle the kid.”

Two black SUVs rolled down the street. An angry eagle with a red sash in its claws adorned the vehicles’ front doors. Four men in sunglasses and suits got out and strode straight for the crashed police car.

Jaffari ran to catch up with them. He got in front of them and put out his hands. “Hold on guys. Philly PD. We gotta get our guys out of the car, first, then you can wipe your asses in triplicate and seize any pirated merchandise.”

The shortest man in the group whipped off his sunglasses and took a wallet out of his breast pocket. “Federal Intellectual Property Enforcement Commission agents. We’re taking control of this scene. You may secure your officers. Then set a perimeter. We will be conducting interviews.”

The black chopper hovered above the street. A man dressed in black combat gear observed the scene through a rifle scope.

Jaffari pointed up. “Is that really necessary?”

Lando came running up to agents. “Hey, your guys destroyed my —“

An IPEC agent broke off from the pack and pushed Lando into a parked car. “Back off!”

Lando pushed the agent back. “Don’t you push me. You’re going to take my report. I can’t get paid by insurance without it.”

Kowalski ran over. “Hey, IP man, I got this. Go interview some bootleg vegetables or impound some raw milk.” Kowalski grabbed Lando’s shoulder and pushed him to the ground. “By the way, Mr. Federal Agent, did you get that guy?”

“Yeah.” He turned to go.

“And what did you get him on?” asked Kowalski.

“Unlicensed penicillin manufacture without a permit.”

Kowalski took his hat off and scratched his head.

Lando groaned. “Penicillin was supposed to be free for everyone to use and manufacture as they like.”

Kowalski slapped handcuffs on him and pushed him onto his knees. “Stay down,” he said.

“I demand you fill out a report for this. The city has got to pay for my cart!” Or at least the insurance.

Sarge walked up to Lando. “Empty his pockets.”

Kowalski pulled an envelope of small bills out of Lando’s front pocket, his keys, wallet and his tablet.

Jaffari and Sarge high-fived. “The mother lode,” Jaffari said.

“Leave him ten grand in cash, so he can get another cart,” said Sarge. “We’re not these bastards,” he said jerking his finger towards the IPEC agents. “We don’t put people out of business. We just ‘tax’ ‘em a little.”

Kowalski laughed.

Jaffari opened Lando’s tablet. It demanded a passphrase. Jaffari looked at Sarge.

Sarge opened Lando’s wallet. “Lando J. Cruz. 717 South Hutchison Street, Phila PA 19147.” Sarge bent the plastic card back until it turned white from stress. “How much you pay for this, Cruz? I know you’re not legal.” He turned to Kowalski. “Run him.”

Kowalski pulled a thin rectangle out of his pocket and unfolded it to four times its original size. It beeped. He read Lando’s details into the device. The reply printed out immediately on the screen. “Address confirmed, Sarge. Born February 18, 2011. Dropped out in the tenth grade.”

“Too cool for school, huh?” Sarge snickered.

“Mother deceased. Father receiving disability payments, diagnosed with terminal colorectal cancer. He has a doctor’s appointment next week. Sister, 14 years old, still in school.” Kowalski licked his lips. “Two strikes.” He looked up at Sarge. “One, standard printed material. One 3D. Both copyright-related.”

“I already got that part. What’s in the extended file?” Sarge asked.

“Citizenship granted February 26, 2028. Known agorist. Suspected of tax evasion, financial terrorism. No other indications of violent tendencies. That’s it, Sarge.”

Sarge massaged his chin. “Okay, Cruz, here’s how it’s gonna go. You enter your password. You pay your taxes. We accept bitcoin, for your convenience.” Sarge smirked. “You go back to work tomorrow with a new cart and you pay us forty per cent of what you make every day at 4 PM on the dot.” He grabbed Lando’s collar and yanked him off the ground. “In return, we keep the Secret Service off your back, we don’t look too closely at your citizenship, your dad’s disability checks or your little sister. What’s her name?”

“Mariana Andrea Cruz,” said Kowalski.

“We leave your little sister alone — for now. Deal?” Sarge picked Lando up onto his feet and dusted him off. “There you go. I think that’s more than fair, don’t you guys?”

“Oh, yeah, Sarge. No doubts,” said Jaffari. He pushed Lando in the back. “Right, Cruz? Now what’s your password?”

Lando glared at them, each in turn. These bastards will take everything and come back tomorrow for more.

Sarge put his arm around Lando. “It’s simple, my friend. What’s more important to you? Your money and your cause? Or your family?” Sarge studied him. “Just make your choice, and we will live with it, either way. No skin off our teeth, right, boys?”

Lando hung his head. “How am I supposed to support my family, with you guys bleeding me dry, huh?”

“Your family? ‘Your family,’” Jaffari whined, mocking Lando. “I don’t give a fuck about your family.” He backhanded Lando across the face.

“It’s a dog-eat-dog world, Cruz,” said Sarge. “And we’re throwing you a bone. Now take the nice bone and be a good little doggie.” Sarge wrapped his arm around Lando’s neck and dragged him behind a parked car. He pulled out his sidearm, released the safety and pointed it at Lando’s head.

Lando squirmed. “Fuck you!”

“Put him out of his misery, Sarge,” said Jaffari.

“Won’t be the first time we had to put down a rabid dog.” Sarge cocked the hammer. He pushed the barrel of the gun into Lando’s forehead and inched his finger towards the trigger.

“Kid, I wouldn’t stall if I were you. Sarge doesn’t play games,” said Kowalski.

Lando’s mind shut down. Just resist. His breathing accelerated. Mari. What will happen to Mari?

Sarge squeezed the trigger. The firing pin clicked. “Oh, gee, forgot to rack the round,” he said. He whipped Lando with the gun on the side of his head.

Lando hit the blacktop. He closed his eyes and held his breath a second. A trembling coursed through his body. A trickle of blood ran down his ear.

Sarge racked the slide to a metallic, grating sound. “Yep, you heard that. There’s one in there now.” He put the gun to Lando’s forehead again.

“If you do it, you’ll never get my password,” said Lando. Is this how I go?

Sarge frowned. “He has a point there, boys.” He put the gun to the back of Lando’s knee.

“Don’t find fault, find remedy,” Lando yelled.

“What the hell?” said Kowalski.

“Type it in,” said Sarge.

“Bingo,” said Kowalski. “Transferring —.”

“To my account,” said Sarge.

Kowalski looked at Jaffari. “We’re gonna get our cut though, right Sarge?” Kowalski held up a plastic card to the tablet. He typed a number, then hit enter. Lando’s balance went to zero.

“Don’t question me,” Sarge said. “Is it done?”

Kowalski nodded.

“Get him up,” Sarge said. “Take off the cuffs. Give him his tablet back.” Sarge picked Lando up and threw his arm around his shoulder. “Now that we’re partners, old buddy, I know you’re not going to run off to your agora organization thing —“

Kowalski grunted. “They won’t be around much longer anyway.”

Jaffari snickered and high-fived Kowalski.

Sarge shot him a look. “Like I was saying —“

“What do you mean they won’t be around much longer?” asked Lando.

“Listen, kid, partners gotta stick together.” Sarge grabbed Lando’s arm and shook him. “And it would be a real shame if I had to send you to the camps. Your sister out here, all alone. Anything can happen to you in there. Stays can be extended. Illegals can get deported. You could get killed in a fight. Am I right or what?” Sarge pushed him away. “Now run off. You work for me now. So, I expect you back on this corner tomorrow morning at 5 AM sharp selling tacos.”

Lando trudged towards his bike. He saw the remains of his food cart and dug through the shards for the serial number strip. He found it and stuffed it in his pocket. There was no sign of his camera. He turned the corner and continued south on foot.

Kowalski looked down at the ground. He bent down and picked up an oversized shiny coin. He held it up to the sun in his fingers. Then he dropped it — and listened. “Sarge, check this out!”

Episode 10: Broke

“Lando, is that you in there? I didn’t know you were home,” said Mariana. She knocked on the bathroom door.

Lando lay in the bathtub. God, I wish I had my own room already. He wiped the tears from his face. He raised his voice. “Yeah, totally fine. Out in a minute.”

Mariana waited outside the bathroom. After a couple minutes, she said, “I’m kinda hungry big —”

Lando stepped out of the bathroom dressed in a towel. “Dinner will be ready in —“

Mariana drew her breath in fast. She laid her soft hand on Lando’s face. “What happened to you? Again? Today?”

Lando studied her face for a moment. She’s so scared. “Mari, they took everything.”

Mariana ran to the kitchen. “Where is your cart, Lando?” She swiveled her head from side to side. She looked out the window. “Where is your cart!” She ran back to Lando and kissed the top of his head. “Okay, calm down. Now, where is your cart?” She pulled her fingers away and stared at the blood.

“Cops destroyed it. Ripped to pieces.” Lando looked up at her. “And,” he cleared his throat, “they took my coin. All of it.”

“But you have a backup,” she said, her eyes big.

“They put a gun to my head, Mari. I had to give up the passphrase. They know where we live. They’ve got the coin already. There’s nothing I could do.”

Mari sat down hard on the floor. “But you have a backup! Why would you carry it all with you?”

“The backup’s useless if they already transferred it to their wallet, Mari! And I have to carry it. You never know when a big deal might come up.”

“We’re broke,” she said. Mariana sobbed. “What are we going to do now? I need that new computer for school next week. And we’re out of groceries. And Dad’s medicine. And —”

“It’s going to be okay,” Lando said.

“Why did they destroy your cart? Why did they have to do that?” She sobbed.

“I wouldn’t give them what they wanted. I only gave them my coin because they had a gun to my head,” said Lando.

She snapped her head up to look at him. “Well, why didn’t you just give it to them! Then we would still have the cart! Then we could eat!”

“Because I won’t live under anyone’s thumb.”

She sighed. “What about your silver stash?”

Lando hardened his face. “That belongs to my customers, Mari. You know that. I’m just holding it for them.”

Mariana furrowed her brow. She walked to her room and slammed the door.

Episode 11: Advice

Lando sat down at the kitchen table. He logged into the server and examined the video recordings made by his cart. He fast-forwarded to the moment when the police car destroyed his cart. He skipped backwards and played it again. Then again. Here. Gone. Here. Gone. He laid his head on the table. Move. Move. I have to do something.

He selected the choicest footage from yesterday and today and uploaded it to his website along with a summary of events. “I’m especially concerned,” he added at the end, “because one of the cops told me that the agora was going to be shut down.”

He waited a minute for comments. There were none. He set the tablet aside. Nobody will care. Why should they? This stuff happens daily.

A comment appeared. It was from Snowball. “Lay low for a little while, then start over on another corner. These guys are all about a quick fix. They’ll forget about you in a week. I sent you that coin from yesterday to help you rebuild. Good luck, Lando.”

“I paid for that spot,” wrote Lando. “And I like the statement I’m making: an agorist bank right next to the Federal Reserve Bank.”

“Maybe that’s why they targeted you, you idiot! All you agorists are idiots and terrorists. You’re destroying this great country by ripping off other people’s inventions and hard work. You all belong in the camps, where you can do something useful for the country for once. Fuck off back to Somalia!” posted an anonymous commenter.

Lando put his tablet away. He closed his eyes for a moment. His shoulders sagged. Alright, then.

He pulled Dad’s medical marijuana stash out of its cubbyhole in the living room and rolled a joint. He entered the hallway and looked both ways. They must be watching a screen. He snuck into the bathroom, lit it at the window and took a long toke. He held the delicious burning feeling in for several beats before letting it out. He did it again. And again.

Episode 12: Agorazon

Lando laid down on the couch. A pleasant feeling of peace washed over him. It’s gonna work out. He unfolded his tablet and searched Agorazon for food carts. Maybe Snowball is right. Maybe I can start over on another corner.

He brought up the best-seller. “Solar-assist engine and warmer. Four warming stations. Awning.” Looks good so — $115,000? Are you for real?

Lando pulled out the envelope Sarge left him. He counted the cash. Ten grand? What am I going to do with that? Maybe I should sell the silver and pay the depositors back later. He steeled himself against the idea. I’d be selling my reputation.

Lando brought up Craigslist. His ear buzzed. It was David. “Hey are you okay? I saw the video and I’m really sorry about your cart,” boomed David’s voice in his ear. Lando turned down his earbud volume by adjusting a slider on his tablet.

“Eh, not really,” Lando replied. “Hey I —“

“I know a guy. He’s got an old cart. It’s not in bad shape but you’d have to do some cleanup work. He says $25,000 is the minimum.”

Lando sat up. “Does it work? How many warming stations does it have? Can I get an installment plan?”

“I’m sending over pics,” David said. “Take a look. I can show it to you tomorrow if you want.”

Episode 13: Give it Up!

Lando got up off the couch and stretched. I must have another fifteen grand around here somewhere. He headed for the bathroom closet.

Dad blocked the hallway.

“Did you eat the brow—“

“Your sister told me what happened.” He rubbed his hands together in front of him, circling them again and again. “The landlord came by today, Lando.”

Lando smacked his forehead.

“You missed your appointment with him. He canceled the deal you two worked out and he wants the back rent again. He wants it now. And these Secret Service men came by today. They want to talk to you.”

Lando slumped against the wall. “Dad, I lost everything.”

“The silver, too?” he asked.

“Dad! The silver belongs to my customers. I’m just holding it for them, like a safe deposit box. I can’t use it.”

“I know, son. I know.” Dad was quiet. “How much is there?”

Lando looked at him. “You can’t ask me that.”

Dad sighed and spread his hands. “Son, look, the place next door is abandoned. We’ll squat there for now.”

“Dad! No!” yelled Mariana from behind him.

He quieted her with his hand. “We’ll fix it up the best we can. We may have to go without some luxuries — like running water, but at least we’ll have a roof over our heads. We’ll figure out the electricity hookup. Maybe we can recover before winter.”

Lando hung his dead. “I failed you, Dad. I failed you.” He began to sob. He put his head on Dad’s shoulder and hugged his neck. “I promise you. I will fix this.” I swear.

Dad laid his hand on Lando’s shoulder. “This is the perfect opportunity to get your life in order. You’re still —“ He grimaced in pain and hunched over. “You’re still young enough to make a full comeback from this. But you need to get a government —“

“I won’t work for the government!” Lando said.

“A government job, son, pays well. It is not too demanding, they give you good healthcare, a good pension and they will never fire you. We have had enough ups and downs. You tried being a street hustler —“

Lando stood up straight. “Street hustler? I operate the longest-running agorist bank in Philadelphia, maybe in the world! I’m working towards a cause. I’m an activist —”

“For what? What is this grand cause of yours?” Dad asked.

“Liberty, Dad. Freedom. Self-determination. Letting people do what they want as long as they don’t hurt others,” Lando said. “That’s what we —“

“Be that as it may son, you and I have an agreement. You can’t —“ He let out a grunt of pain.

“Dad, are you okay?” Mariana asked. She wiped tears from her cheeks.

He waved her off and collapsed to a seated position on the floor.

“Do you see, Lando? Look at the pain he is in and still you insist with this business! Why? Why? Why?”

Lando’s cheeks flushed with anger. He guarded his mouth. He sat down on the floor, too.

“Son,” he said through the pain, “you and I have an agreement and I am calling in my option. I’m vetoing anything but a government or corporate job. Give up this crazy dream of yours, son. Give it up!”

Episode 14: Lando 2.0

“Alright,” David said with a beaming smile. “Time to relaunch. It’s Lando 2.0!”

“Let’s just take a look at it first, before we get excited,” said Lando.

David led him down an abandoned street. The houses were charred ruins. The street was full of holes and it was black with burnt carbon in other spots.

“What happened here?” asked Lando.

“I think this is the neighborhood,” said David, “where those guys created that squatter community.”

“Occupy?” asked Lando.

“Yeah. You remember. They filled like ten blocks. Then the cops bombed it,” said David.

“I didn’t know it was this bad. It’s a good thing we are all spread out.”

A pack of six stray dogs approached them.

“Don’t worry,” said David. “They’re probably trained just to attack cops.”

They got to the end of the burned out houses, turned left to avoid a block of obvious drug houses and hopped three fences. A jagged broken glass fence top slashed Lando’s right calf.

“Okay, if we don’t arrive in the next five minutes, I am going to call for a helicopter taxi to get me out of this maze,” Lando said. He fingered the gash in his leg. It stung.

David laughed. “Relax. It’s right here!”

David’s friend was waiting for them. “I’m Freak. What took you guys so long?”

Lando nursed the hole in his pants where the fence slashed him. “Let’s just see this food cart.”

Freak led them into a detached garage. He pulled a canvas cover off of the food cart and sent dust flying everywhere. Lando sneezed.

“Can you turn on a light in here?” Lando asked.

“Sorry, chief, no electricity until 8 o’clock.”

Lando eyed the cart. It was an old trailer type. I can’t pull this one on my bike. “Does it at least work?”

“You bet it works. I just fired it up last winter for the Eagles tailgate party. Works like a charm,” said Freak.

“Fuel?” Lando asked.

“Propane,” said Freak.

“I’ll give you fifteen grand,” Lando said.

Freak covered it up. “I ain’t letting it go for less than $25,000.” He turned to David. “I thought I told you that.”

“Twenty large. Cash,” said Lando.

Freak studied him. “I’d rather have bitcoin.”

Episode 15: Cadre Mutual

Lando passed a tiny supermarket and pulled open the creaky doors of Cadre Mutual. These guys are never going to pay out without a police report but I need that fifteen grand.

Under a faded Bank of America sign, an agent sat in a teller’s booth behind bulletproof glass. The two were alone.

“Good morning. I purchased —“

The agent held up a finger and continued typing on his workstation.

Lando turned around and observed the bums cooking their lunch over a makeshift grill across the street.

“Next.”

“Yeah, I have a policy for —“

The agent raised his finger again. “Cadre Mutual, the agora’s first real insurance company. Get a piece of the agora. What would you like to get coverage for?” He listened.

Lando grimaced. He turned towards the street again. A bum chopped a chair into pieces and stuffed them between some bricks. Another bum threw vegetables into a large metal pot.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“The waiting period is currently around three months.”

“Yes, we’re suffering, too, sir. Thank you.”

The agent turned to Lando and cocked an eyebrow.

Lando looked down. “I purchased insurance for my food cart and a police cruiser destroyed it yesterday. I need to file my claim and get paid so I can start working again. I’ve got the cart picked out and ready, so I need the money now.”

The agent cracked a thin smile and shook his head from side to side. “Police report.”

Lando frowned. “The cops destroyed it. They rammed it with a cruiser while they were shaking me down. They won’t give me a report.”

“It seems like if they really wanted to shake you down, they would have given you a report so they could take your insurance payment.”

“Here is the VIN plate. I picked it out of the wreckage. Can I get the payment today?”

The agent stared at him. “Fill this out.” He passed him a tablet and a stylus.

Stupid forms. “This is three pages long!”

The agent did not look up.

Lando wrote out a detailed description of the destruction of his cart. “Here you go. How much can I get?”

The agent set the tablet aside. “It’s going to be three weeks to study your claim, since there is no police report. Payouts are currently running three months.” The agent set to typing on his computer. He looked up. “Thank you very much and have a nice day.”

Lando rolled his eyes. “Three months? You can’t do any better than that? I’ve been paying premiums here for three years! I was one of your first customers! I expect agorist businesses to provide better service, not the same or worse service than the corporate ones.” Lando leaned forward. “You need to do better than that!”

The agent blushed. He studied Lando for a moment. “I’m sorry, Mr. … Cruz but IPEC keeps hitting us with injunctions and fines. They shut down three branches in the last three weeks. I’ve had to change location four times already this month. They’ve frozen my accounts. There isn’t much I can do.”

“At least tell me how much the payout will be,” Lando said.

The agent typed. “It says here you insured it in 2028 for $7,500.”

“That sounds right, but inflation has gone way up since —“

“We have a hard time keeping up with inflation. With depreciation, the maximum Cadre Mutual can pay out on your claim, if it is approved, is,” the agent paused, “$2,500.”

Lando waved his arms in the air. “I can’t buy another cart for that! That’s barely enough for a couple days of raw materials.”

Episode 16: Silver

Lando sat down on the curb across the street from Cadre Mutual and pulled out his tablet. The bums argued over portion sizes from the street soup they prepared. He brought up his website and opened the chat.

“Lando, did you lose any of our bitcoin?” said one comment.

“No,” he replied. “I don’t hold bitcoin for customers.”

“What’s the status on our silver? Can we make withdrawals?” someone asked.

Lando ignored that one. You should know better than to ask about silver openly. “How are your businesses coming along, guys?” he typed.

“You’re an idiot, Cruz. You can’t beat the man. You’ll never change anything. You’ll never make it,” posted one commenter.

“Thanks, officer Dimwitted from the FBI. Does trolling for the state still pay big bucks? Any chance you have a job opening? I’m admittedly getting quite desperate,” wrote Lando.

“Hang in there, Lando. We’re behind you. I know you can come back from this. There’s always some ass out there waiting to drag you down. Don’t let them get to you,” said another commenter.

Lando folded up his tablet and put it in his back pocket. He pulled an old burrito out of his front pocket and went to town.

Episode 17: Agora Business Alliance

Lando opened the door to the Agora Business Alliance. There were people everywhere. A robotic greeter approached him. “Welcome to the Ag… uh …” The machine made a whirring noise and stopped.

Lando approached a desk. “Excuse me, but I —”

The lady didn’t look up. “Speak with Samuel, the greeter, please, sir.”

“Its batteries seem to have run out.”

The lady looked up and smiled. “I am so sorry.” She covered her mouth and twisted her body. “That happens from time to time.” She picked up the phone. “Sammy is out again! Can you recharge him? I know we need — You know what our situation is.” She snuck a glance at Lando before hanging up the phone. “So, what can I help you with, sir?

Lando smiled without showing any teeth. “I’m applying for a micro-loan?”

“Oh, sure. Just head over there to the last line against the wall and they will be right with you.”

“Got it.” Lando took a step towards the other side of the room.

“Oh, uh, sir?” said the front desk lady. “The end of the line is right here.”

Lando looked at the end of the line. He looked at the front of the line all the way across the room. Is that the same line? I am going to be here all day. He fell into line.

“Hey!” A fat finger tapped him on the back of the neck. “I was here first. I just went to get a drink of water,” said a woman.

Lando looked at her. Then he looked at the line. He took a step back. “Whatever.”

Episode 18: Takoda

“Alright, Mr. Cruz, your application for a microloan has been received and we will respond to you within twelve weeks,” said the male clerk with a mechanical smile. “Have a great day and thanks for visiting the Agora Business Alliance. Next!”

“Hold on now,” Lando said. He extended his open palm behind him to stop the next person in line.

“Come on buddy, everybody gets their shot. Move along,” said the man behind him.

“Now, listen,” said Lando to the clerk. “I’ve been paying my dues —“

“Yes, sir,” said the clerk. “For thirty-eight consecutive months. Thank you for being a long-time member, sir. Next!”

Lando extended his hand behind him again.

“I can’t wait twelve weeks. The cops —“

“Mr. Cruz —“

Lando shot his index finger into the air. His eyes went big.

The clerk rolled his eyes and slumped. “Popcorn, anybody?” he mumbled.

Lando continued, lowering his voice. “The cops destroyed my food cart yesterday. That’s how I earn my living. That’s how I keep my family fed, housed, clothed and drugged.”

“Have —“ started the clerk.

Lando waved his index finger and glared. “They also stole my bitcoin. I’m about to be evicted and the only thing keeping my dad alive is cannabis.” Lando laid his head on the counter. “Come on, you can do better than this for me.”

The clerk studied him. He typed into his workstation. “It says in your file, Mr. Cruz, that you owe $197,000 and change in medical expenses, you’re being evicted and,” he typed some more, “you still have a pending loan balance of $7,567.39 with the Alliance.” He leaned forward. “And you want to go deeper into debt?”

The man behind him put his hand on his shoulder. “Buddy,” he said, “we all got it bad. My wife just died, my sister got fired, my baby daughter is sick and the cops raided my place last night. They killed my dog. Just put in your request and try something else.” The man smiled at him. “It’s gonna be alright.”

Lando stared at the man for a moment, his mind quiet. He turned around to the clerk. “Well?”

“Next!” yelled the clerk.

Lando frowned at him, then stomped away towards the front door. He sat down in a row of seats at the back of the office, next to a large picture window. He leaned back and looked at the ceiling. I would do just about anything right now. I just need a path.

“Hey, buddy.” It was the man behind him in line. He sat down next to Lando. “You okay?”

Lando made two fists and put them to his forehead. “I just feel like I’ve done everything right, you know. And when I need something, nobody’s there.”

The man nodded.

“And, now, just to survive I might have to sell out and take a government job.”

The man laughed. “If you can even get one.”

Lando sighed. “I just can’t work for those bastards. They killed my mom. I can’t support them with one ounce of my energy. I won’t do it,” Lando said. “But I have people who depend on me.”

“They killed your mom?” asked the man.

“Cops,” said Lando.

The man nodded. “Listen, the ABA is under assault from the feds just like you and I are. There’s no sense in hanging around here. It could be years before they’re able to recapitalize.”

Lando did not look up. He wiped his eyes. “I —“ His voice squeaked. He cleared his throat. “I understand.” Lando stood up. “Thanks for the 411.” He turned to leave.

“Hey, let’s get a cup of coffee. There’s a great place next door,” the man said.

Lando narrowed his eyes at him. What does he want?

The man rubbed his hands on his pants. “How rude of me. My name is Takoda. Come on!” He smiled and led the way.

“I can’t,” Lando said. “I’ve got to keep looking for some way to raise fifteen grand.”

“That’s exactly what I want to talk about,” said Takoda. “Money!”

Episode 19: Run!

“IPEC has been on the ABA’s ass for months now,” said Takoda. He paused to take a swig of coffee. “Those guys are relentless and the corporations fund them beyond their official government budget. They seize the ABA’s capital investments. They sue their customers into bankruptcy — especially the ones that owe them a lot of money!”

“Bastards.” Lando emptied the tiny diner coffee cup and swirled the grounds in the bottom. That was like one mouthful. They sat at the back of the diner, far from the front door. Next to them, a floor-to-ceiling picture window showed a dark alley.

Takoda looked at Lando and laughed. “If you’re nice enough and give her a tip, you can get endless refills here.” He winked at the waitress and got them both refills. “One hand washes the other.” He took a long swig.

“I serve my customers big cups of coffee every day but I never drink any myself.” Lando took a sip. “That is good!”

“Anyway,” Takoda continued, “our little agora is too big for its britches, according to IPEC. The Fed announced that the underground economy is now fifteen per cent of national production. These guys are paperwork stormtroopers. We do business, as you probably know, without licenses, permits, patents or royalty agreements.”

The waitress appeared and refilled their cups. Lando smiled at her but her craggy face offered no reaction.

“They hate that shit! It’s like they took all of the third-rate anal-retentive tax collectors from all over the world and put them into the Department of Commerce, Intellectual Property Enforcement Commission, Washington, DC!” Takoda guffawed.

Yeah, hilarious. Lando frowned.

“Anyway,” said Takoda, “my point is to forget about the ABA. They can’t do anything for you. They probably won’t make it themselves.”

Lando leaned forward. “What do you do?”

“I clean up crime scenes. Business is booming,” he whispered.

Lando’s eyebrows shot up. “Can you get me in?”

“Sorry, the Feds are taking it over. They say they have to ‘standardize’ it across the country. Make sure everybody cleans up the blood and guts the same way and disposes of it in accordance with environmental regulations X, Y and Z. Psssh.” Takoda waved his hand toward Lando.

“You gonna get a job with the government then?” Lando asked

“No!” Takoda said. “According to them, since I haven’t taken their bullshit tests, I know zip all about cleaning up crime scenes.” He took another gulp of coffee. “I’d have to pay for three months of training. And then I’d only get one-fourth of what I earn now. That’s before taxes.”

“What are you going to do?”

“There’s always the corporate job office.” Takoda looked away.

“That pays worse than the government, it’s easier to get fired and they make you work longer hours,” Lando said. “That’s what I hear.”

“The agorist job office has a few jobs sometimes.”

“If you know how to handle a gun!” Lando laughed.

“Loan shark in a pinch, I guess,” said Takoda.

Lando turned up his nose.

“There’s always organ donation.”

Lando rolled his eyes. “I need my kidney, thank you very much.”

Takoda nursed his side. “I know how —”

The glass double doors of the diner burst open and shattered. Philadelphia police in black body armor and face masks poured into the diner. A small, round drone came in after them. Its cameras rotated under a translucent dome that hung underneath the rotors.

“This is a routine terrorism inspection,” said a recorded announcement from the drone. “Remain calm. Do not move. Cooperate and answer our questions without hesitation. Get your wallets out.”

A waitress grabbed a rag and started to clean broken glass off of the countertop. A cop smacked the butt of his rifle into her hand and she screamed out in pain. “Sarge said not to move!” the cop yelled. The waitress fell to the floor.

Takoda tensed. “I can’t be here.” He looked to his left. The police inspection approached him. He looked to his right at the big, glass picture window.

Lando’s legs started to shake. It can’t be him. “I think I know that cop but I can’t tell with the mask on.”

Takoda eyed him. “If you know him, then we’re in the same boat. Sarge?”

Lando’s eyes got big. “Yeah.”

“Follow my lead,” Takoda whispered. He pulled a pistol out of his waistband and chambered a round.

Lando grabbed his hand. “What are you going do? I’m not ready to go out in a blaze of glory yet,” he whispered.

Takoda chuckled. “I’m just —“

“You two, over there,” yelled one of the cops, “quiet!”

“Get ready,” Takoda whispered. He pointed the gun at the picture window and pulled the trigger. Tiny bits of safety glass rained everywhere. He flipped the table and was out and into the alley.

Lando froze. His ears rang.

The cops opened fire.

Takoda reached in, grabbed Lando by the collar and pulled him. “Run!”

Episode 20: The Core

“I think,” Lando wheezed, “we lost them.”

Takoda pulled him into an alley. “We should split up now.”

“Right.” Lando smiled. “Hey, it’s been an adventure.” Lando shook his hand but Takoda wouldn’t let go.

“There’s something else.” Takoda walked to the edge of the alley and stuck his head out. A cop car flew through the intersection, sirens whirring, going the other way. “It’s just a rumor. I don’t have confirmation on this. But I’ve heard it from three reputable sources now.”

Lando crossed his arms. Here it comes.

“It’s called The Core. Word on the street is that the top agorists are ponying up big money to take the fight to them, kind of like an agorist CIA.”

Lando snickered. “What, to carry out assassinations? Seriously?”

“Seriously. We’re fighting back and in a big way. The story is that they have veterans from the Egypt War and some ex-Mossad training them.”

“I hope they can do something fast. I’m about to lose my house.”

Takoda rolled his eyes. “That’s exactly what I’m trying to tell you, Lando!” He grabbed him by the shoulder. “They’re hiring.”

A beat cop came around the corner and into the alley. “Hey, you two!”

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