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Description
A young man across the world sweated. He was both hot, as it was always
hot here, and excited. His job was fun, but serious. He played
games all day, in an old warehouse, on an old computer. However, he had the
responsibility of recording, hacking, and generally noticing anything
unusual within the games. After all, the online multiplayer games could be
accessed from any country, by anyone, in any position.

The sweaty man's programming skills allowed him invisibility in a
game room. Today, he saw something completely out of the ordinary.
Outlandishly, some text and numbers, that probably belonged to someone
and something important, appeared in a game room. He understood what he saw.
His capture program immediately print screened the data, then deleted it from the
game window, as if it were a program glitch. Next, he grabbed the copy from the printer,checked its legibility, and ran out of the warehouse.

Amidst noise and dirty human obstacles, the young spy scurried toward a
group of big camouflaged soldiers, who wore berets and smoked cigarettes.

"Look, it's the geek!"

"Yes, I have very important information for the Captain."
The sweaty man thrust out the paper toward the soldiers.

One of the guards taunted, "Did you figure your weight in camel dung?"

Undaunted, the sweaty spy shook his head, and again thrust out the paper. A
Lieutenant retrieved and studied the data. He then turned and opened a
gate. He crossed the sandy courtyard, and took his time to reach the
interior guards. They let him pass unhindered, into a shady building, where
dust hung in single light beams. The Lieutenant unlocked and opened two
doors, then knocked on the last door.

"Come."

The Lieutenant entered, and stood at attention.

"What's that in your hand?"

"Outside the gate just now, my men received this intelligence."

The Captain reached for the paper. He examined the data with experienced
dark eyes.

"Mm hm. Someone was careless. You never saw this."

"Yes sir."

The Lieutenant departed. Now the Captain had some work. He adjusted his
chair to access a dirty computer terminal. He injected the spy data from
the sweaty paper into CRON, "Crack Remote Objective Network". The program
was an ongoing project for deducing weaknesses in foreign governmental
structure. It was a spy program.

One weak link in the chain of digital information could be leveraged into
another, then another. Spies slowly and deliberately cracked full and
incomplete codes. When codes didn't check out, or spies made up fake codes
for self-promotion, execution followed to keep spies honest. Decades of
covert activity, phone taps, infiltration, bribes, interception, thefts,
and modern hacking formed a crude, but useful, archive. The streamlined
database belied its bloody procurement.

The old computer slowly correlated Ceasar's work and personal information.
His piece of the puzzle fell into place. Now the Captain had a face to go
with Ceasar's slip-up.

Soon, the Captain rose and patiently navigated his own set of doors. Each
room was more austere than the next, until he quietly approached the back
of an older, dark man. The man did not need to turn.
"Captain."

"It seems a leak has sprung through the cracks. This data could be
important."

"Who was the messenger?"

"Olafa, our programmer liaison."

As the older man slowly turned, the Captain observed his covered head,
thick eyebrows, long beard, and glassy stare. Disconcerted, the Captain
handed him the paper, along with Ceasar's photo and location, then quickly
withdrew. The man remained fixed on the doorway, then gracefully turned to
a small bookshelf. He pulled a large book, sat, and opened the book to an
embroidered, cloth bookmark. Side by side, the book and intelligence papers
waited for the man's preparation.

He began to copy the symbols in the book onto the back of the data paper.
He then repeated some words from the book's text. A sudden breeze lifted
the book's pages. When finished, the dark man clasped his weathered hands,
closed his eyes, and concentrated.

Now hotter and more alert, the sweaty man zealously scanned his game. Quite
proud of himself, Olafa was confident of a promotion. He knew that spy
intelligence was more productive than brute military maneuvers. "Now they
see that I'm smarter than any soldier." He laughed.

Olafa thought he heard someone. A rogue breeze blew his hair. Since he was
alone, he brushed off the thought. Suddenly, extreme self-congratulation
overtook him.

"Yes, I'm the best. It was really hard work. Yes, I take amphetamines to
stay awake. That's how I'm so keen, through sleepless diligence. Sure, I
could take some now, since I've worked so hard."

He was surprised at himself. "Oh well, I do deserve it."
He downed a little pill, and soon felt the effect.

"This feels great. Yes, it could feel even better, but I shouldn't take
anymore. Yes, I'm strong. Oh yes, I could do my job even better. Don't I
think I'm worth it? Oh yes. I really don't want anymore, but I guess so."

Hesitant to swallow the pill, Olafa finally took the plunge. Now he was
doubly dosed. Eventually he was manic.

"Oh, my heart is beating so fast." He completely soaked his clothing in
sweat.

"What? I didn't take that other pill? I thought I did. I didn't take
any pills? Surely I did, I'm sweating so much. Yes, it is hot. Take
a pill? Um, no, I don't think so. It will calm me down? How? Sometimes
amphetamines calm people? I didn't know that. Are you sure? Yes, I'm sure."

Olafa's hand shook as he unwillingly brought the pill to his mouth. He
didn't want to take it. But the thoughts in his head threatened him with
some unknown doom if he didn't swallow the amphetamine. Still, he returned
the pill to its bottle.

The mystic frowned in wrath, as swollen veins ran the length of his skull.
With malevolence, he dominated Olafa's mind. Vague red ribbons transformed
his dark eyes. The young spy was no match for the older man's magic. Olafa
knew too much.

"No, I probably won't get that promotion. Yes, it makes me quite sad. Yes,
I want to end the sadness. Yes, I'll take the whole bottle."
The dark man's impulsive thoughts fully hypnotized Olafa's poisoned mind.
Soon, Olafa frothed at the mouth, while he clutched his chest for a final
death pose.

Description
A young man across the world sweated. He was both hot, as it was always
hot here, and excited. His job was fun, but serious. He played
games all day, in an old warehouse, on an old computer. However, he had the
responsibility of recording, hacking, and generally noticing anything
unusual within the games. After all, the online multiplayer games could be
accessed from any country, by anyone, in any position.

The sweaty man's programming skills allowed him invisibility in a
game room. Today, he saw something completely out of the ordinary.
Outlandishly, some text and numbers, that probably belonged to someone
and something important, appeared in a game room. He understood what he saw.
His capture program immediately print screened the data, then deleted it from the
game window, as if it were a program glitch. Next, he grabbed the copy from the printer,checked its legibility, and ran out of the warehouse.

Amidst noise and dirty human obstacles, the young spy scurried toward a
group of big camouflaged soldiers, who wore berets and smoked cigarettes.

"Look, it's the geek!"

"Yes, I have very important information for the Captain."
The sweaty man thrust out the paper toward the soldiers.

One of the guards taunted, "Did you figure your weight in camel dung?"

Undaunted, the sweaty spy shook his head, and again thrust out the paper. A
Lieutenant retrieved and studied the data. He then turned and opened a
gate. He crossed the sandy courtyard, and took his time to reach the
interior guards. They let him pass unhindered, into a shady building, where
dust hung in single light beams. The Lieutenant unlocked and opened two
doors, then knocked on the last door.

"Come."

The Lieutenant entered, and stood at attention.

"What's that in your hand?"

"Outside the gate just now, my men received this intelligence."

The Captain reached for the paper. He examined the data with experienced
dark eyes.

"Mm hm. Someone was careless. You never saw this."

"Yes sir."

The Lieutenant departed. Now the Captain had some work. He adjusted his
chair to access a dirty computer terminal. He injected the spy data from
the sweaty paper into CRON, "Crack Remote Objective Network". The program
was an ongoing project for deducing weaknesses in foreign governmental
structure. It was a spy program.

One weak link in the chain of digital information could be leveraged into
another, then another. Spies slowly and deliberately cracked full and
incomplete codes. When codes didn't check out, or spies made up fake codes
for self-promotion, execution followed to keep spies honest. Decades of
covert activity, phone taps, infiltration, bribes, interception, thefts,
and modern hacking formed a crude, but useful, archive. The streamlined
database belied its bloody procurement.

The old computer slowly correlated Ceasar's work and personal information.
His piece of the puzzle fell into place. Now the Captain had a face to go
with Ceasar's slip-up.

Soon, the Captain rose and patiently navigated his own set of doors. Each
room was more austere than the next, until he quietly approached the back
of an older, dark man. The man did not need to turn.
"Captain."

"It seems a leak has sprung through the cracks. This data could be
important."

"Who was the messenger?"

"Olafa, our programmer liaison."

As the older man slowly turned, the Captain observed his covered head,
thick eyebrows, long beard, and glassy stare. Disconcerted, the Captain
handed him the paper, along with Ceasar's photo and location, then quickly
withdrew. The man remained fixed on the doorway, then gracefully turned to
a small bookshelf. He pulled a large book, sat, and opened the book to an
embroidered, cloth bookmark. Side by side, the book and intelligence papers
waited for the man's preparation.

He began to copy the symbols in the book onto the back of the data paper.
He then repeated some words from the book's text. A sudden breeze lifted
the book's pages. When finished, the dark man clasped his weathered hands,
closed his eyes, and concentrated.

Now hotter and more alert, the sweaty man zealously scanned his game. Quite
proud of himself, Olafa was confident of a promotion. He knew that spy
intelligence was more productive than brute military maneuvers. "Now they
see that I'm smarter than any soldier." He laughed.

Olafa thought he heard someone. A rogue breeze blew his hair. Since he was
alone, he brushed off the thought. Suddenly, extreme self-congratulation
overtook him.

"Yes, I'm the best. It was really hard work. Yes, I take amphetamines to
stay awake. That's how I'm so keen, through sleepless diligence. Sure, I
could take some now, since I've worked so hard."

He was surprised at himself. "Oh well, I do deserve it."
He downed a little pill, and soon felt the effect.

"This feels great. Yes, it could feel even better, but I shouldn't take
anymore. Yes, I'm strong. Oh yes, I could do my job even better. Don't I
think I'm worth it? Oh yes. I really don't want anymore, but I guess so."

Hesitant to swallow the pill, Olafa finally took the plunge. Now he was
doubly dosed. Eventually he was manic.

"Oh, my heart is beating so fast." He completely soaked his clothing in
sweat.

"What? I didn't take that other pill? I thought I did. I didn't take
any pills? Surely I did, I'm sweating so much. Yes, it is hot. Take
a pill? Um, no, I don't think so. It will calm me down? How? Sometimes
amphetamines calm people? I didn't know that. Are you sure? Yes, I'm sure."

Olafa's hand shook as he unwillingly brought the pill to his mouth. He
didn't want to take it. But the thoughts in his head threatened him with
some unknown doom if he didn't swallow the amphetamine. Still, he returned
the pill to its bottle.

The mystic frowned in wrath, as swollen veins ran the length of his skull.
With malevolence, he dominated Olafa's mind. Vague red ribbons transformed
his dark eyes. The young spy was no match for the older man's magic. Olafa
knew too much.

"No, I probably won't get that promotion. Yes, it makes me quite sad. Yes,
I want to end the sadness. Yes, I'll take the whole bottle."
The dark man's impulsive thoughts fully hypnotized Olafa's poisoned mind.
Soon, Olafa frothed at the mouth, while he clutched his chest for a final
death pose.