Chapter 381. Operation: Brainjack, Phase 2; Luring out the Brain (7/10)
“Alright. Everything is in place.”
“What is the point of all this?”
“The point? You haven’t figured it out yet?”
“You’re trying to get rid of the leader of Swastika, right? But, so what if you get rid of him? Swastika is still going to be around. It might cause a bit of chaos, but that’s all.”
“We’ll just have to see about that, now won’t we?”
When I took out the roll of duct tape from my fat suit, Malory asked, “What are you taking that out for?”
“I can’t have you saying anything unnecessary. So you’re going to have to be quiet.”
“Mmmmmm! Mmmmm!”
I duct-taped Malory’s mouth again. I unlocked the cuff connected to the chain between her feet and wrapped the chain between the cuffs around a bar on the back of the chair before I cuffed her free hand behind her back. This way she wouldn’t be able to pull her hands away from the chair. I also duct taped her legs to the chair so she couldn’t stand up with the chair and try to wander around.
Like this, she was completely immobilized.
Only after I ensured everything was perfect did I open up the conversation between the final target of this operation.
At long last.
Five weeks of hell.
And it all came down to this single interaction.
Everything came down to this.
The pressure weighing down on my back was unreal.
It was worse than trying to decide between which wires to cut when defusing a bomb. If I screwed it up now, this operation would truly fail. I wouldn’t ever get a second chance. How this single conversation goes could determine whether I survive this or not.
I took a deep breath in to calm my on-edge nerves.
I started to slowly type out a message using their conversation history as a reference to imitate how she communicated with him through text.
‘fatty got away’
‘but I got something really good’
‘to make up 4 it’
I slowly exhaled out and waited. There wasn’t an immediate reply back. The anxiety from waiting for his response was killing me.
One minute.
Two minutes.
Three minutes.
Fuck! Reply, you piece of shit! Your girlfriend is texting you asshole!
At the five-minute mark, my heart skipped a beat like a maiden receiving the first text from the guy they were crushing on. I’m not gay! I swear to god, I’m really not!
It’s just the nerves!
The reason for my sudden nervousness was the words ‘BF is typing.’
‘What!’
‘How!’
‘The hell do you mean he got away!’
‘We’ve spent five fucking weeks tracking down this little shit and you’re telling me you let him get away!’
‘sowwy’
‘my bad’
‘You better have gotten something really fucking good to let him get away. If it isn’t good I’m going to be cutting into bones the next time we fuck.’
A shiver ran down my back when I imagined the scene of him towering over her and slicing deep into her flesh. How she’d survived for this long was a miracle. Or maybe it was more of a curse.
The only thing that kept her going was the bottomless hatred in her heart.
I didn’t bother to explain and sent the picture to him. A picture was worth a thousand words so I let it speak for me.
‘... this is… is this real?’
‘yes’
‘This is really who I think it is?’
‘yes it is’
‘I don’t believe it, send me some more proof.’
‘is audio good enough’
‘Why not a video?’
‘this bitch kicked the phone out of my hand when I took that picture just now’
‘the camera doesn’t seem to be working’
‘it’s all black’
‘the mic appears to be fine though’
‘Audio’s good enough then..’
Thank god. He didn’t seem very suspicious. The picture alone had almost fully convinced him. He just needed one last push.
I know I said the picture was a final trump card. But it was only half of it.
I moved to a separate room to ensure Malory’s muffled cries wouldn’t be picked up. I navigated to the appropriate audio file on the keychain and started to record audio on her phone while in the app before I played a conversation through the pen. I’d placed a piece of duct tape over the cameras on the phone just in case he tried to gain access to it to verify the camera really wasn’t working. All he would get was a black feed from both cameras this way.
“Well, want to say hi to my boyfriend?”
“Who are you!”
“Now, now, that’s not important. Care to introduce yourself?”
“Where am I?”
A recorded slap played.
“Answer the question.”
“Do you have any idea who I am! I’m a celebrity, you think you’ll be able to get away with this!”
Another recorded slap played.
“I said, answer the question. Your name. What is it?”
“You bitch, you know exactly what my name is. Why else would you kidnap me?”
“Yes. Of course I do. Who wouldn’t know… Angela Divara… such a famous celebrity.”
“Then don’t make me waste my energy saying it. What are you after? Money?”
Yes, when I last met Angela at the university, I had her act out some lines for me and I’d recorded them on my phone claiming it was to help out a friend with acting. These were a few of those lines I had her act out. The second half of my final trump card.
The first half was getting her to take a picture lying down on the couch with her hands bound behind her back. I’d cut her out of that image perfectly and used one of Malory’s photos where she was holding her phone up from above over her couch to take a selfie. I’d taken a few different pictures of Angela in different poses as well but ended up going with this one.
“Money. Heheh, well that certainly is one use.”
“Fuck off. You won’t get a cent out of me.”
“Haaaah. Well, it seems she doesn’t want to cooperate very much.”
“It can’t be helped.”
“I hope this is good enough for you.”
“We can slowly change her mind after you get here. Come alone, it would be bad to draw unnecessary unwanted attention with multiple people coming over to my place right after kidnapping her.”
“Also, with someone like her, it’s hard to say whether she might buy someone off with a high enough price. She has that much money after all.”
“You’ll need to make her submit and become loyal only to you.”
I stopped the audio recording and sent it over to her boyfriend then waited patiently for him to listen to it.
Thankfully, I hadn’t messed up.
A long five minutes later, I received a single text back.
‘OMW be there in 20.’
Reading that text, all the strength drained from my body.
I’d… somehow… done it.
He was… really coming.
The brain was really on its way. Coming to me directly and all I had to do now was patiently await his arrival.
Inside Malory’s room, I removed the fat suit I had on and put it in a corner of the room. I retrieved a few things from it and stuffed them in my pockets.
I entered the living room to check on Malory and confirmed she hadn’t moved from where I left her. I put the pen down on the couch before I headed over to the entrance. By the entrance inside the small open closet where she kept her coats and footwear.
When he opened the door and closed it, he wouldn’t see me from this angle even if he turned to face the door. The door was left unlocked.
I did my best to maintain my composure, but the more time that passed, the more nervous I got. I kept playing it out in my head on repeat. Raising the gun up. Taking aim. And finally, pulling the trigger when his back is to me in his most defenseless state. I’d been simulating this exact same scene in my head for the last five weeks, mentally preparing myself. I was both prepared and resolved to die if the plan fell through and I failed.
It’d been on replay for what felt like an eternity. I’d envisioned it so many times I questioned whether I was even sane anymore. Had I lost my mind? What if I miss? What if the gun jams? What if it misfires? What if it doesn’t take him down the way I saw it in my head?
Those fears constantly encroached on my heart.
It was like walking on a tightrope in the dark. The further you walked across it, the greater the uneasiness grew.
Your footing would become unstable and you’d wobble back and forth unsteadily...
Chapter 381. Operation: Brainjack, Phase 2; Luring out the Brain (7/10)
“Alright. Everything is in place.”
“What is the point of all this?”
“The point? You haven’t figured it out yet?”
“You’re trying to get rid of the leader of Swastika, right? But, so what if you get rid of him? Swastika is still going to be around. It might cause a bit of chaos, but that’s all.”
“We’ll just have to see about that, now won’t we?”
When I took out the roll of duct tape from my fat suit, Malory asked, “What are you taking that out for?”
“I can’t have you saying anything unnecessary. So you’re going to have to be quiet.”
“Mmmmmm! Mmmmm!”
I duct-taped Malory’s mouth again. I unlocked the cuff connected to the chain between her feet and wrapped the chain between the cuffs around a bar on the back of the chair before I cuffed her free hand behind her back. This way she wouldn’t be able to pull her hands away from the chair. I also duct taped her legs to the chair so she couldn’t stand up with the chair and try to wander around.
Like this, she was completely immobilized.
Only after I ensured everything was perfect did I open up the conversation between the final target of this operation.
At long last.
Five weeks of hell.
And it all came down to this single interaction.
Everything came down to this.
The pressure weighing down on my back was unreal.
It was worse than trying to decide between which wires to cut when defusing a bomb. If I screwed it up now, this operation would truly fail. I wouldn’t ever get a second chance. How this single conversation goes could determine whether I survive this or not.
I took a deep breath in to calm my on-edge nerves.
I started to slowly type out a message using their conversation history as a reference to imitate how she communicated with him through text.
‘fatty got away’
‘but I got something really good’
‘to make up 4 it’
I slowly exhaled out and waited. There wasn’t an immediate reply back. The anxiety from waiting for his response was killing me.
One minute.
Two minutes.
Three minutes.
Fuck! Reply, you piece of shit! Your girlfriend is texting you asshole!
At the five-minute mark, my heart skipped a beat like a maiden receiving the first text from the guy they were crushing on. I’m not gay! I swear to god, I’m really not!
It’s just the nerves!
The reason for my sudden nervousness was the words ‘BF is typing.’
‘What!’
‘How!’
‘The hell do you mean he got away!’
‘We’ve spent five fucking weeks tracking down this little shit and you’re telling me you let him get away!’
‘sowwy’
‘my bad’
‘You better have gotten something really fucking good to let him get away. If it isn’t good I’m going to be cutting into bones the next time we fuck.’
A shiver ran down my back when I imagined the scene of him towering over her and slicing deep into her flesh. How she’d survived for this long was a miracle. Or maybe it was more of a curse.
The only thing that kept her going was the bottomless hatred in her heart.
I didn’t bother to explain and sent the picture to him. A picture was worth a thousand words so I let it speak for me.
‘... this is… is this real?’
‘yes’
‘This is really who I think it is?’
‘yes it is’
‘I don’t believe it, send me some more proof.’
‘is audio good enough’
‘Why not a video?’
‘this bitch kicked the phone out of my hand when I took that picture just now’
‘the camera doesn’t seem to be working’
‘it’s all black’
‘the mic appears to be fine though’
‘Audio’s good enough then..’
Thank god. He didn’t seem very suspicious. The picture alone had almost fully convinced him. He just needed one last push.
I know I said the picture was a final trump card. But it was only half of it.
I moved to a separate room to ensure Malory’s muffled cries wouldn’t be picked up. I navigated to the appropriate audio file on the keychain and started to record audio on her phone while in the app before I played a conversation through the pen. I’d placed a piece of duct tape over the cameras on the phone just in case he tried to gain access to it to verify the camera really wasn’t working. All he would get was a black feed from both cameras this way.
“Well, want to say hi to my boyfriend?”
“Who are you!”
“Now, now, that’s not important. Care to introduce yourself?”
“Where am I?”
A recorded slap played.
“Answer the question.”
“Do you have any idea who I am! I’m a celebrity, you think you’ll be able to get away with this!”
Another recorded slap played.
“I said, answer the question. Your name. What is it?”
“You bitch, you know exactly what my name is. Why else would you kidnap me?”
“Yes. Of course I do. Who wouldn’t know… Angela Divara… such a famous celebrity.”
“Then don’t make me waste my energy saying it. What are you after? Money?”
Yes, when I last met Angela at the university, I had her act out some lines for me and I’d recorded them on my phone claiming it was to help out a friend with acting. These were a few of those lines I had her act out. The second half of my final trump card.
The first half was getting her to take a picture lying down on the couch with her hands bound behind her back. I’d cut her out of that image perfectly and used one of Malory’s photos where she was holding her phone up from above over her couch to take a selfie. I’d taken a few different pictures of Angela in different poses as well but ended up going with this one.
“Money. Heheh, well that certainly is one use.”
“Fuck off. You won’t get a cent out of me.”
“Haaaah. Well, it seems she doesn’t want to cooperate very much.”
“It can’t be helped.”
“I hope this is good enough for you.”
“We can slowly change her mind after you get here. Come alone, it would be bad to draw unnecessary unwanted attention with multiple people coming over to my place right after kidnapping her.”
“Also, with someone like her, it’s hard to say whether she might buy someone off with a high enough price. She has that much money after all.”
“You’ll need to make her submit and become loyal only to you.”
I stopped the audio recording and sent it over to her boyfriend then waited patiently for him to listen to it.
Thankfully, I hadn’t messed up.
A long five minutes later, I received a single text back.
‘OMW be there in 20.’
Reading that text, all the strength drained from my body.
I’d… somehow… done it.
He was… really coming.
The brain was really on its way. Coming to me directly and all I had to do now was patiently await his arrival.
Inside Malory’s room, I removed the fat suit I had on and put it in a corner of the room. I retrieved a few things from it and stuffed them in my pockets.
I entered the living room to check on Malory and confirmed she hadn’t moved from where I left her. I put the pen down on the couch before I headed over to the entrance. By the entrance inside the small open closet where she kept her coats and footwear.
When he opened the door and closed it, he wouldn’t see me from this angle even if he turned to face the door. The door was left unlocked.
I did my best to maintain my composure, but the more time that passed, the more nervous I got. I kept playing it out in my head on repeat. Raising the gun up. Taking aim. And finally, pulling the trigger when his back is to me in his most defenseless state. I’d been simulating this exact same scene in my head for the last five weeks, mentally preparing myself. I was both prepared and resolved to die if the plan fell through and I failed.
It’d been on replay for what felt like an eternity. I’d envisioned it so many times I questioned whether I was even sane anymore. Had I lost my mind? What if I miss? What if the gun jams? What if it misfires? What if it doesn’t take him down the way I saw it in my head?
Those fears constantly encroached on my heart.
It was like walking on a tightrope in the dark. The further you walked across it, the greater the uneasiness grew.
Your footing would become unstable and you’d wobble back and forth unsteadily...
