Vending Machine Lunch (3 page)

“And what were
our discoveries? I'm sure you're as curious as we were. Well, the
first thing we discovered was, this is not actually as massive a
problem as it has been made out to be. Thanks to a certain
bandwagon created by hype from the press and certain members of the
public, it has been made out to be a total catastrophe, affected
every mother's child who calls themselves residents of our lands.
But when you take a look at the reality of things, it turns out
that less than one percent of people were affected by the Deimos
disaster. Less than one percent. And when I say affected, I am
talking about death. When not even a percent of this land's
population have been affected by the apparent issues caused by the
Deimos disaster, I don't think it deserved the amass of controversy
that it received. You'd have thought with outrage on such scale,
sixty percent of people were affected. You'd have thought, with the
criticism we've been receiving, the mass riots and further
destruction caused by angry protesters, that this is a nation on
the brink of extinction, that no-one is safe, that we were just
going to stand by and watch this. Let me tell you this, Deimos was
the first of its kind and it will remain that way. Don't assume
that things have not been learnt from this experience.”

Jonathan and
Jimmy noticed the crowd getting uneasy. They themselves were quite
shocked to hear that he didn't appear phased that less than one
percent of people have died. Less than one percent was still a hell
of a lot. Not even mentioning the amount of injuries and losses of
propriety that had occurred.

“Is he blind or
something?” muttered Jimmy.

Out of the
corner of his eye, Jonathan spotted something. A flash of red.

“Bleeding hell,
a laser!” hissed Jonathan, turning quickly and focusing on the
perpetrator in the crowd as the glass eyed leader continued to
convince the masses, “Twelve, three, eighteen, six, twenty-one,
Caucasian male, long dark hair, pinstriped shirt.”

“Got him,” said
Jimmy as he followed Jonathan's co-ordinates as Jonathan attempted
to signal 'A' in the opposite block.

“He's just put
a laser pen in his left shirt pocket, and God damn it why won't
they bleeding look so I can communicate!? Set of useless pricks!”
cursed Jonathan.

“Where was he
shining it? At the mark?”

“No, at us
bizarrely.”

“Could he be
marking us?”

“Maybe. Either
that or he was hoping to blind us while the mark was killed.”

Jimmy sighed,
“He could just be some nut-job fooling us around. Did he point it
right at us?”

“No, he sort of
swept it along the building.”

“Hmmm.” hmmmed
Jimmy, keeping his cross-hair on his temple and running a hand
through his hair.

“Keep a close
eye on him. A are refusing to look at me.”

“What are the
losers doing?”

“Well, the
spotter has gone, probably to satisfy his nicotine addiction like
he does on every job,” sighed Jonathan, “And the shooter is
covering the front crowd area it appears.”

“Goddammit!”
hissed Jimmy, “Hasn't anyone told him he can't go for a smoke
whilst on a job. Especially when Mr Robot over there is making a
speech after upsetting everyone in the land?!”

“Loads of
times,” said Jonathan, “Not that he takes any notice. He couldn't
care less about anything but himself. At least he goes away to have
a smoke now instead just giving away the position like he used
to.”

“How on earth
is he still in the job?”

“No idea.”

They stopped
talking and resumed listening to the leader, whilst keeping a
watchful eye upon the laser guy.

“...that some
people could not even begin to comprehend. We have worked hard for
this to be a success and we make it our effort to try and please
everyone. However, disasters occur, lessons are learnt and people
move on. Again, I point at the press for somehow creating an
unnecessary whirlwind of hype which has caused nothing but
destruction. Take a look at yourselves for a moment please, and see
where you are right now. You're all on the streets and for this, we
have the reports to thank! If the Deimos disaster was just given
normal coverage without the self-indulgent nonsense, none of this
would have occurred, I promise you.

“However, we
want to make sure everyone on this land is happy. I want to make
sure everyone on this land is happy; as leader, I feel it is my
duty. If you're not happy, we are not happy. So I'm sure you'll be
keen to hear what we are going to do on the matter. I repeat yet
again, a hell of a lot has been learnt. The lives lost have not
been in vain. Unfortunately, as always, no progress is achieved
without sacrifice. If there is no pain, there is no gain. And if
there is no gain, there will be no grain at the end of the day.
Many great things of this land unfortunately have blood on their
hands, as the days of beta and alpha development demonstrate
success and failure throughout. The many wars this land has
suffered demonstrates this brilliantly. Let us consider, that if it
was not for the lessons learnt in the various wars we have fought,
that the idea of the facilities such as Deimos and Phobos would
have never been conceived. I am in no way saying that what happened
at Deimos was in anyway acceptable, because it was not. If there
was any way to prevent what happened at Deimos that night, it would
certainly not have been overlooked in our investigations. As you
know, nothing could have predicted Deimos. I am simply saying that
instead of doing the thing animals do, and turn to feelings such as
hate and revenge, such feelings that the press has encouraged
throughout, (the proof of that stands before me,) we should mourn
the unfortunate and see this as an opportunity to fix the errors we
made. It should be seen as progress rather than disaster, for in
the long run, this will certainly be progress.

“So what are we
going to do in response to this disaster? Well, because it is our
duty to keep everyone on this land happy, we are going to do two
things. The first, is free healthcare for the next week.”

The crowd
murmured, some clapped, however the majority shifted and talked
uncomfortably as though this was not welcome news.

“Anyone with a
Deimos related injury will be able to check in to a hospital and
find their treatment subsidised by us, no catch, no charge. The
second thing we are doing, is offering to buy and shares from
Deimos shareholders at one rupee a share.”

Again, mixed
response from the crowd. Someone shouted something. It sounded
abusive.

“Bleeding hell,
this may just all begin to kick off,” whispered Jonathan.

“As from
tomorrow, all Deimos shareholders will have the option of selling
their Deimos shares to us, and we shall buy each share for one
rupee. We will be setting up a stall in the Convert buildings
tomorrow where shareholders can home and sell their shares to
us.

“Now, there is
one last thing.”

The crowd
murmured again. The whole 'one last thing' was something he said
often in his speeches, and it was often something that sounded
promising.

“As I said
several times, and you'll be sick of me saying this now; we have
learned an awful lot from this experience. An awful lot. And I have
also just mentioned that you can also sell your shares to us
tomorrow and Convert, however, we are hoping that will not be the
case for the majority of you, after what I'm about to announce.

“Using what we
have learnt from this experience, we are going to set up two new
areas. And these are going to be codenamed 'Swift' and 'Voltaire'.
Consider them to be the far superior children of Deimos. They are
both going to be set up where Deimos was and once built, Phobos
will be closed down, and yet again, shares will be optionally up
for sale. Alternatively, what we are hoping is that you invest in
Swift and Voltaire. Of course, this is only an announcement,
details on how this is going to work will be drawn up in the near
future, but we are confident that Swift and Voltaire will triumph
where Deimos fell.

“However, I
leave with you a warning. Do not take the press's word to heart. Do
not take them seriously in times of seriousness. Do not be fooled
by their so-called efforts to sort things out, as they are
worthless. We have nothing to apologise for-”

BANG!

The gunshot
cracked through the air, almost instantly a smashing of windows was
heard to the left of the leader. The left green flag fell down to
the floor. The audience ducked, and uttered a low 'ooohh'-ing
sound. Jonathan cursed, searching for the perpetrator, scanning the
rapidly panicking crowd. The leader, had ducked as well, looked
around whilst still in his ducked position and then pretty much
leaped through the smashed window and out of sight.

“Oh God, you
see anything?” said Jonathan franticly, still searching the windows
and crowd for anything suspicious.

“Um... yeah
actually,” muttered Jimmy, raising his eye from his makeshift
scope, “Look st-”

That's as far
as he got. A bullet cracked through the window, ripping through his
neck and propelling him backwards. Blood splattered throughout the
room, some landing on Jonathan.

“Oh man-” he
spoke out as it happened. He glanced down at Jimmy's body, the head
was almost detached from the body. Without even thinking, he leaped
onto the floor, knowing he may be next to be shot.

The second
gunshot had been heard by the crowd and Jonathan could hear them
all screaming and moving in panic. He crawled along the floor to
the window were Jimmy was. He peered up to the level of the sniper
rifle and peered through the scope, being careful not to invoke any
sudden movement. The scope was focused on A's sniper. His sight
appeared to be locked onto something nearby to Jonathan, maybe he
had caught the perpetrator in his line of sight, although Jonathan
doubted there was only one of them. Then a thought struck him.

He was still
holding his binoculars, his left hand's fingers gripped round one
the sides tightly as though his life depended on it. Making sure
his movement was out of range from outside the window, Jonathan
threw his binoculars at the left hand window where he had been
seeking.

A third bullet
smashed its way through the left window. Jonathan saw. It was A's
sniper who had tried to assassinate the leader. And now he was
trying to clean up.

“Bleeding
hell!” cried Jonathan, and scampered from the room. A's sniper saw
him, and immediately left his position. The chase was on.

Jonathan pelted
down the stairs of the empty multi-story building, hoping to reach
the suspect before he got away. He was already short of breath, but
it wasn't worth his skin to fail. Failures were not tolerated. This
man had to be caught or killed. Preferably caught, however,
Jonathan was keen to use his the K893 pocket gun they had given him
for this job, and not so keen for the suspect to use his.

Reaching the
ground floor, Jonathan stormed towards the glass doors towards the
sight of a horribly furious and scared crowd. He approached the
doors with great speed and didn't stop. With a crash, he snowballed
his way the thin glass before falling over with the pain.

The local crowd
stopped their riot and panicky escape and stared at him. Somewhere,
another gunshot was fired, sending the crowd ducking down again
before they resumed their destructive pilgrimage. Jonathan dragged
himself up, the crowd beginning to push back in to the area he had
cleared by crashing through the door. He knew the gunshot wasn't
the suspect, it was someone else. It had a totally different vibe
to it. Looking upon the large block of flats ahead of him, he
pressed on.

He forced his
way through the anxious crowd, finding it hard for the tide not to
knock him off course. Hands flailed as he barged past, upsetting
protest signs, causing aggressive reaction of many people as he
forced his way through the rolling sea of people. Just a bit
further, just a bit further. His muscles were screaming at him to
stop but Jonathan forced himself to go just a bit further. He
couldn't care less about the leader or any of the morons in the
crowd. This was in honour of his family, his children.

Jonathan
stumbled out of the crowd and through the front entrance of the
flat block. As soon as he stumbled in, he saw the assassin,
hurrying down the stairs and heading for the back entrance across
the lobby. He caught his eye. There was a slight standstill, both
there, eye-balling each other.

In a matter of
a few clicks, Jonathan ripped his weapon out of his pocket and
fired instantly. The bullet missed, and as they both took off
running, a spark on where it had hit was visible on a metal pole
sparked it's orangey sparkiness.

The suspect ran
out the back door, and slammed it shut behind him in hope to delay
Jonathan. It worked, to a small extent, Jonathan was repelled by
the closing glass door before kicking it open and continuing the
chase up a footpath climbing a hill.

They were
running through the gardens of the flats, nicey nicey park-like
area, with white lamps, benches, bins and a cobbled path crawling
up it, the rest of the area covered in synthetic grass. Jonathan
was beginning to seriously struggle as he chased, but continued
pumping oxygen into his lungs, like a machine injecting fuel, he
forced himself to continue.

The suspect,
reached the top of the hill and the end of the gardens, and hopped
over the wire-mesh fence which pitifully marked a land boarder.
Jonathan went after him, hopping over the fence, and finding
himself on another city road.

These streets
were also filled with protesters, all on the verge of riot,
probably due to the usual ignorant reply given by their leader. As
he chased, people, vehicles, windows flying past him, Jonathan
replayed what he has said in his head. We have nothing to apologise
for? He really was out of touch.