Amy left to let the others know of the developments. John left to go chase Crosby, Yukon, Chad and Lex down for this new mission.

  He jogged past the truck towards where some of the supplies had been stacked. Navigating the stacks of crates and boxes and assorted goods; he finds them all chilling in a little cubby formed out of the supplies. Like a tiny fortress suited to adult-sized children.

  John took a few steps up, interrupting the conversation.

  “Sorry to interrupt boys, but we've got a new assignment.”

  He looks to Crosby specifically.

  “Crosby, we're going to be hitting the arcade. Get them readied up.”

  “Hoooold up a moment there John.” Crosby tells him, stopping him from turning around. “They need to rest up. And we need a plan.”

  “Of course.” John says, not missing a beat. He looks to the other three and changes the orders. “You three try and get some good rest. There is some sort crate padding near the back right corner of the hangar you can sleep in. We'll wake you all when we're ready.”

  “You got it boss.” Chad says.

  “Alrighty.” Says Lex. Yukon simply nodded.

  They all got up just as John and Crosby left. The two went back to the board table to plan out the approach. The pamphlet contains most of the information they need.

  “Alright.” Crosby says, laying out the info. “So the building is located in Rapid City, West Dakota. It… there isn't fucking address on this piece of shit.”

  “We can sort that out on the way.” John assures.

  “On the way?!” Crosby exclaims, shaking his head as he sighs.

  “This is gonna be a fucking shit show.”

  “And you're the man I trust most to weather it with me.” John comments. Crosby continues reading the info.

  “Population is three hundred thousand… something something Pennington county… blah blah blah.” He gives the thing a thorough read through before telling John the info.

  “Alright so it's in downtown Rapid City and used by the surrounding commercial offices as a pleasure facility. It has a big sign up front creatively named the ‘Rapid Commercial Leisure Arcade’ and is open between 12pm to 12am.”

  John draws up the info on the side of the plane using a marker he took from Gary's office. The same one he used to leave that note.

  “Alright? Anything else important?” John asked.

  “That's it.” Crosby replies, throwing the pamphlet aside. John clicks his fingers together as he thinks of an idea. “Message Douglas we're taking the mission. Tell him we need more info.”

  “On it.” Crosby says, pulling out his digiphone to open BookFace. Meanwhile, John thought of the ride there. What vehicle should be used, how much extra gas to bring. What to do if they break down, etc.

  Crosby got a reply almost instantly. “They've sent something. They say… that they'll give more info but they need a virtual signature.”

  “What?” John questioned, looking away from his drawings. He walked up to Crosby and took the digiphone, reading the following message.

  “Dear [PARTNER]

  We are happy to receive that you have accepted this contract for work. However, we require full signage on behalf of [ENTER LEADERSHIP HERE] in order to provide more information, as per on tenant agreements and privacy policy.

  Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

  Please sign here:____________”

  “This looks like AI generated shit.” John saying, handing back the device. Crosby gives it another look.

  “No. I don't think so. It looks like an old auto response system. Maybe the farmers or whatever don't use SERaMACs.”

  “I doubt it.” Comments John, folding his arms. Crosby kicks his feet up as he argues his point. “It would make sense why they'd be pissed at the establishment or whatever. If they aren't happy to shove SERaMACs into everything, they wouldn't be happy about much else.”

  Crosby's point convinces John. He takes the digiphone back and scribbles a signature. It was just a bunch of random lines. He never had a signature as he never got into business.

  As soon as he does, another message is sent.

  “Thank you, valued partner! An agent will give relevant info shortly.”

  “I did it. I think we just have to wait.” John tells Crosby. And so they do. And they do. And… this is taking too long.

  The two decide after a couple hours that it isn't worth waiting. They'll try and get another sleep in and, once the message arrives, they'll grab everything they know they'll need before they leave and forge a plan of attack on the way.

  John decides the SUV will be the best option. Not the previous one however— the larger one due to the extra space.

  Crosby went to bed eventually, though stayed up a little bit longer. The anticipation was killing him as his mind rushed over with possibilities. It was horrible, kind of reminding him of how he used to wait to hear back from employers when SERaMACs filed his applications.

  Then, a funny irony hit him. To strengthen the cause of the resistance, he must literally do the bidding of other corporations. It was then the world became more complicated. Companies have been looking for people to destroy other bigger companies longer than he's even known half the things wrong with the world.

  John sat outside under some cover beside an exit door. His right was dimly lit from the interior light.

  He watched as Gilbert taught people how to aim and fire a gun.

  We would hear each distinct click of the trigger as the guns weren't loaded. They practiced with empty cases for now. They aimed into the howling darkness of the cliff-edge the base sits near.

  He watched them drill, learn about safety, recoil impulses.

  It was all just noise as John considered the implications of his work.

  Until he finally got Gilbert's attention.

  “How's our glorious leader?” Gilbert asked as he approached dripping wet. John wasn't sure if it was mocking or genuine.

  “Doing just fine. Did Amy let you know the next step?”

  “She did.” Gilbert says, taking a seat on the arm of the chair. John stared at the ground as Gilbert continued to speak. “But I would've preferred you told me.”

  John shrugged his arms before talking. “I've been thinking about it. We're literally just aiding another head of what we're fighting.”

  “I respectfully disagree.” Says Gilbert. “It's all a means to an end. And besides, not all companies are evil.” He gets back up and prepares to go inside. “But I won't bug you. I'll let you enjoy the quiet.”

  Gilbert leaves the door open behind him as he enters the hangar.

  John continues to sit in the folding chair. One he found in the plane.

  He looks back out into the dark, rainy, windy expanse. To his left, the tattered runway. To the right, a cliff face not-too-far. In front of him, about a minute's walk away past the jerry-rigged shooting range was a tall chain link fence. Rusted to hell with barbed wire at the top.

  He stares deep into the fence as he contemplates.

  “Not all companies are bad.” He thinks.

  “Please sign here.” He thinks.

  “I was speaking to Amy.” He thinks.

  He gets up out of the chair and slowly walks forward, into the rain. He turns the warmer of his overcoat off. It pores down hard, yet he faces up to let it wash all over his face. He extends his arms as he continues to walk further into the darkness. Until finally, he reaches the wire fence marking the edge of the base. He grasps at it with his hands and rests his forehead against it.

  His body was cold. His face was soaked. It was a blessing compared to being stuck in his head. He stayed there for around a minute as he let it cleanse his thoughts. Then finally, he turns back around to head inside.

  A good sleep will be required in the face of the uncertainties of tomorrow.