A crowd gathered outside of the Orlando parliament, their screams slowly increasing. Thousands more attempted to get to parliament, many re-directed by riot police blocking the main roads. I glanced at my watch 10:20pm, they're 40 minutes early. 

The glass elevators doors opened behind me. I took one last look at the city and exited the elevator, shifting my backpack. Editors yelled requests or ran back and forth, resulting in a dull roar. Grinning, I tipped my head down, scrolling across random info on my phone. It really wasn't necessary, no one would cast two looks my way. Better safe than sorry. 

I walked to the main editors office, staring intently at the old, fat man inside. My heart hammered as the door recognized me, sliding open. As I entered, it locked behind me. An electric current ran through the glass, making it translucent. The editor looked up of his computer and nearly fell out of his seat. A pistol slid out of my coat sleeve, held now with both hands, aimed at his stomach. Moments passed, he remained speechless. My grin vanished. I growled "Desmond, you need to start talking. Who gave you that story?!"

His mouth moved, but no words came out. My chest warmed and the window behind Desmond cracked with a silenced round. Whiter than a ghost, he finally managed to say "Th- they didn't give me..." His voice rose "A name!"

My eyes narrowed with rage. You had one chance to prove yourself. A low growl escaped my lips "I hacked into your computer. I've seen E-mails Desmond... I hoped that you could have served your role properly. You were incapable of even that!"

I slid my backpack of my shoulder, using one hand to aim the gun at him. The backpack slid out of my left hand, flying onto Desmonds desk. He cringed, practically crying. I continued "Onyx needs you. If you want a chance to redeem yourself, stay here until I call you. You will not ignore this call."

With that, I strolled out of his office, his door locking behind me. I took the elevator, strolled out of the building and synced my phone up with his office camera. Shaking, I said "Desmond, stand up straight, wait a second, then grab the backpack."

I watched the door to his office unlock. He nervously stood up, waited a second, then slung the backpack around his shoulder and walked out of his office. The feed cut out, glass warped and shattered, falling sixteen stories half a block away from me. 


After a few hours, I modified the video to make it look like he entered his office with the backpack and destroyed the office. Satisfied, I sent the flawless, finished product to the news. A file appeared with it, linking him to the government. Days later, the protests increased drastically at parliament, with Onyx's spokesperson at the fore-front. Three more days... check-mate. 


The End

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