Chapter IV
Questions and Business.
Vernon drives past the town hall watching a group of protestors on the steps, demanding a change of leadership and an end to the war, with soldiers at the top of the steps looking down as a man in a suit walks up to the captain, an after a few seconds the soldiers start mowing down the protesting civilians with ease. Alan, who had been looking out of the open window of the car, closes it a turn to Vernon.
“Well that didn’t end well.” Alan said looking slightly nauseous.
“No sir. But they had a point to make, the mayor has becoming more and more corrupt since the war started twenty years ago. The car drives past the recently created graveyard and towards a skyscraper, fifty stories tall with a large letter W about to thirds up the building, The headquarters of Wolfrick Co.
As Vernon pulls up to the building steps, Alan gets out and walks up the steps and through the front doors as Vernon makes for underground carpark. Once inside Alan walks up to the desk, noticing the empty room around him, thinking it was odd as this room was usually a lot busier. He shrugs and continues to walk up to the clerk, who continues to work not noticing him arrive.
“I have an appointment with Mr Derrick Jacobs.” Alan said looking over the desk.
“I’m sorry sir Mr Jacobs is busy right now.” The receptionist responds. “May I ask who was asking for him.” She said still looking down at the pile of papers on her desk.
“Er, Alan Wolfrick.” Alan said smiling, not unkindly at the receptionist. The woman looks up in surprise.
“Ah, Mr Wolfrick. Forgive me. We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow.” The receptionist said looking slightly nervous.
“And I would prefer if it stays that way.” Alan said smiling. “Could you point me in the direction of the archives. I just want to have a look at some documents.” He finished looking around at the entrance hall. It's white marble pillars every few meters and wooden floor were just how he remembered it being.
“Certainly, it’s through the door on the left.” She pointed to a small metal door on the opposite side of the room with a security camera right above it. “But you’ll need another person with security clearance to access it, I’ll send for Mr Jacobs.” She said, as Alan walked over to the door and stood by it just out of view of the camera.
A few minutes later Derrick arrives looking slightly confused.
“Sir whilst it is good that you’ve decided to visit your company. May I ask why I’m here.” Derrick said looking around at the empty room.
“I’ll tell you once we’re inside the vault.” Alan said. Derrick nods and the two both turn their keys simultaneously and the steel door opens. Once I side the door closes and Alan turns to Derrick. “You are here because I want information, relating to a large shipment of this companies weapons I found whilst out on campaign.” Derrick looked shocked at the news. Alan could tell that the old man wasn’t acting as well. “I want to find out who sold them and why.” Alan finished, looking up at the walls the room which had rows and rows of large metal crates with a jumble of letters and numbers painted on each one, as well the top of the wall was lined with cameras on every available surface.
“Well certainly, my, someone selling weapons to the enemy. Do you know who it was?” Derrick asked looking at Alan for answers.
“Nope. But I intend to find out.” Alan said as the two down the rows of the vault towards the back of the room.
“Well sir, the company stores all of its financial information at the back of the vault as well as a copy of every weapon that has ever been created.” Derrick said looking around the room as they walked. “Plus, design’s for future endeavours as well.” He finished as they reached the end of the vault.
“How many weapons are stored in here Derrick?” Alan asked looking back at the rows upon rows, piled up to the ceiling full of large crates.
“Oh thousands, tens of thousands.” Derrick said also looking back at the vault’s contents.
“So, it would not be noticeable if a few were to go missing.” Alan said looking around, both thinking about the present inquiry and for the future as well.
“No sir. All these weapons are armed with trackers. Only the people on the board no how to deactivate them.” Derrick said as he punched in a code to a large safe. “Ah here we are.” He said bringing out a large file. He skims through it to the date of the supposed shipment. “Now let me see. Well according to this there were no sales made leading up to the when you saw these stolen items.” He said putting the file back into the safe and locking it shut.
“Damn, is there a record of people entering this vault?” Alan asked. Looking around at the camera’s again.
“Yes sir, but it will take me a few days to locate it, and then even more to access and look through the details.” Derick said looking concerned.
“Well then. You know what to do.” Alan said smiling patting Derrick’s shoulder and begins to walk off, before the old man calls hm back.
“Oh, by the way, have you got any further on locating the thief?” Derrick said looking curious.
“No, I haven’t” Alan said praying to himself that Derrick was not as good at spotting him lying as Vernon was.
“You should come here more often Mr Wolfrick.” Derrick said suddenly, “Your voice on the board might make a difference in this company.” Derrick looked at Alan almost pleadingly.
“I’ll consider it.” Alan said before walking back towards the reception area, leaving Derrick alone in the vault.
As Alan’s car pulled out from the Wolfrick Co car park, across the road looking out of a window in the town hall across the street, Ervin Codsworth, the fifty-four year old, battle scarred, commander of the western imperial army, looking out at the window towards the now empty street bellow looking mildly sick. He hadn’t believed it when the city watch captain had come to him and told him about the massacre on the town hall steps, but it had been confirmed as Codsworth had arrived to witness the clean-up.
“Mayor Osmund will see you now.” Orville Yates, the Mayor’s assistant a short, slender man said from the door to the room, as Codsworth turns around an nods. Before striding out of the room, his helmet under his arm. It only took a few moments for the battle scarred commander to reach the Mayor’s office and open the door to find Mayor Osmund, a short, round and bald figure sitting in his chair talking to Eugene Fitzfurgel, a tall slender built man with amber eyes that give the man a warm look to him.
“What is the meaning of this Osmund.” Codsworth said striding into the room looking livid. As Osmund looked up from his conversation with Eugene.
“I beg your pardon commander.” Osmund said looking horrified to spoken to as such.
“Those people were starving, and you gunned them down. Are you trying to start a rebellion?” Codsworth said still angry, but more so at the Mayor need for him to clarify himself. Codsworth walks up to stand directly in front of the Mayor, who likewise stands up. A far less intimidating move given that Codsworth was half a meter taller than Osmund even standing up. As Eugene steps in.
“Gentlemen, I’m sure we can solve this like civilised people.” Eugene said, his tone was calm and friendly. The kind of voice that made people instantly like him and made them eager to listen.
“Sorry.” Codsworth said through gritted teeth. “I am sure the Mayor knows that these people were desperate enough to come here and that he may have overreacted.” Codsworth gives a fake smile and backs off.
“Of course.” Eugene said still giving the same warm smile. “I was horrified myself when I saw the slaughter.” He said shaking his head in a depressing tone. “But those protestors were threatening to break down the doors and come inside. I’m sure that the guards were just doing their jobs and simply got… Carried away.” Eugene said, again the warmth of his voice was hard to resist.
“There’s still got to be some punishment for this blatant crime though.” Codsworth said looking at Osmund, but once again it was Eugene that spoke.
“Absolutely. We shall leave that decision to you commander.” Eugene said walking back to the Mayor’s side and nodding at Codsworth, who knows to take this as his cue to leave the office. As he walked down the corridor, he saw the police chief Bernard sixty-four years old and overweight, walking towards the Mayor’s office, not so much as looking at Codsworth as they passed.
Outside the town hall once more, Codsworth looks around at the street that he found himself on, and wondered to himself ‘how in the gods name did I end up here’. This question was further validated as a businessman walked past him, but not before spitting at his feet in disgust.
To an outsider, this would have been the height of disrespect, but to Codsworth it was just another day in The Imperial City. Coming from a poorer background it was part of the course, and combine that with his darker skin colour that made him look more like the desert dwellers of the west rather than these pale imperials. Meant that a day was frankly wasted, if some upper class snob didn’t show him some form of disrespect, not that he was the only one, as you didn’t have to go far out to see how the richest treated those of lesser means and fortunes.
