Round Six Lynch: Virtually Gone
George rummaged through his bag, rapidly stuffing in his supplies, small gadgets, a few research books and whatever else he had put out in the room during his brief stay. This place was becoming just too hot for one agent to handle.
There had been contacts made but now he was certain you couldn't trust them all and they no doubt didn't trust him either, meanwhile those on the inside were killing people off left and right. The murderers could be any one of them, they all had the skills and the intelligence.
Using that intelligence, Hersheck decided the best thing to do was get the hell out of dodge before he was next, one way or another. This situation was bad. He'd report it to the agency and maybe some of what he had seen would be useful to someone. All he wanted to do was get back home to his large flat screen monitor and his online games. His guild was no doubt pissed off at all the raids he'd missed while on this little mission anyway andtThe CIA just did not understand how important his character was to the Onyxia raid battle tactics.
“Well come on ,Probe, let's head home.â€Â
George turned to look down at the little transformer sitting on the nightstand. It was then that he noticed gas seeping in through the underside of the door. Grabbing up his bag and the robot, George pressed his tie to his mouth as he headed for the balcony door.
Some agents just thought they were -so- smart with their science degrees and military training. They didn't stand a chance against a creative geek with tons of paranoia and years of D&D experience. Always have more than one way out!
Now that he knew they were after him, he felt better, justified in his suspicions and the need for a hasty retreat. Running away wasn't brave but it was smart and at least he knew that he'd live to point these things out in the debriefing.
He was still musing on this matter when he opened the sliding glass door to the small balcony area. George had looked around through the glass first of course but who expects people to be suspended above your head on repelling lines? Not even paranoid gamer geeks.
A laser dot was aimed at his temple and so he held up his hands in hopes of appearing harmless. The front door opened with a click and a few more 'friends' entered. It would seem their minds were made up. They helped George up over the balcony railing where he took an unfortunate plunge to his death.
The other agents walked back through the room, ignoring the innocuous smoke and planting the evidence that suggested that this was just one more case of an aging gamer who couldn't take reality anymore. It was just the thing the media could seize to scorn the gaming industry and something every frustrated mom, wife and religious fanatic would gladly cite as a case of nonfunctional escapism in order to explain why their own gamer relations found something virtual far more interesting than they were.