Geek Mafia by Rick Dakan (read book .txt) 📕

see and enjoy. He was supposed to come out of this a millionaire. He’d never have to work again if he didn’t want to. But they’d kicked him out – some of them good friends of his. They’d stolen his idea and kicked him out. 

That morning, as he’d sat there in his car outside the office, he’d contemplated just throwing it in gear and driving straight through the plate glass door at the front of the office, just flooring it and putting his trust in the airbags to save him. Or not. Whatever. Paul didn’t think he could have done it, but he really wished he had. He wished he had it in him to be so grief stricken that he didn’t care what the consequences for his revenge were. But he did care. He was worried about his future. And for that he felt like a coward. 

“And then you did the only logical thing under the circumstances,” Chloe said. “You went and got a drink.”

“Yes I did.”

“But are you sure they’re going to vote you out tomorrow?”

“Oh yeah, they made that real clear. They already offered me two month’s severance, which is more than they have to. Plus I still own whatever stock I’ve vested.”

“That sucks” Chloe sympathized. “But that last part’s good though, right? You still own part of the company, so if the game takes off, you should make some money.”

“Yeah,” said Paul, but he didn’t sound convinced.

Neither, it turns out, was Chloe. “Of course there’s probably a bunch of different ways they can screw you on that right? Like in the movie business where people get a percentage of the profits but no movie ever really makes any profits because of accounting tricks and whatever. I’m sure game companies do the same shit.”

“Yeah,” Paul hadn’t had this particular depressing thought until now. “I doubt they’ll pay out dividends or anything as long as I’m sitting on nine percent of the stock.”

“You know what Paul? They’ve got you bent over good. They’re giving it to you in the ass and all that’s left to negotiate is who’s going to do the moving back and forth.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way. Thanks for the image.”

“Have you ever been fucked in the ass Paul?” she asked, her voice dead serious.

“You mean before today?” he asked, not sure what she was driving at.

“No, I mean actually fucked in your actual ass.”

“I can’t say I have no,” he laughed. Ok, this is weird, he thought.

“I didn’t think so.” She leaned closer in, her face just a foot or so away from his now. “And would you like to be fucked in the ass?”

“Um…no. It’s not on my list of things I want to experience.”

“You have a list? What’s on the list?”

“Well, I, ummm…”

“We’ll come back to the list. You’re wondering what the hell my point is right?”

“Um, yeah. Definitely.”

“Here’s the deal Paul.” She put her hands over his where they rested on the kitchen table. Again, the touch of her skin on made him squirm on the inside – squirm in a good way. “You’ve just been fucked over so bad you wanna scream. Hell, you probably already did scream. But now it’s time pick yourself up and move on. Either that, or get used to being the bitch, right?”

“Ok, sure,” said Paul. No matter how in lust with her he was with her right now, he sure as hell wasn’t about to let her do anything to or put anything in his ass. Well, probably not. But he didn’t think that things were heading that direction.

“You don’t sound convinced,” she said.

“Well, I’m new to this.” He smiled. “Be gentle, it’s my first time.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll learn fast.” She took her hands off his, making him immediately miss her touch, but she needed them to slice through the air and emphasize her final point. “You know what’s better Paul? Better than lying there and taking it like a bitch? I’ll tell you. It’s much better to be the one who does the fucking. Which is why I’m gonna help you Paul. I’m gonna help you fuck those bastards ‘til they can’t walk straight for a year.”

“Sounds good,” Paul agreed. “But how can you help me?” 

“What kind of help do you need?” she replied. “I’ve got a lot of hidden talents, but I can’t come up with the solution for you. You have to know what to ask for.”

“I think I need a lawyer more than anything.”

“Ok, say I’m a lawyer. What then?”

“You’re a lawyer?”

“We’ll pretend I’m a lawyer. What would a lawyer do for you?”

Paul thought about this. What would a lawyer do for him? In his experience, not much. Real life lawyers tended to hem and haw and beat around the bush. They seldom gave straight answers and they were never the go-for-the-throat sharks you see in the movies. “Actually, what I really need is someone like a TV lawyer,” he said. “Someone to go in there and threaten the whole lot of them into giving me what I want. Make them afraid of being in court for the next decade. But that sounds like it would cost a lot of money and probably wouldn’t actually work.”

“And what is it you want, Paul?” asked Chloe. “Do you want your job back?”

“No, not anymore. I’m pissed at being fired, but I could never work with them again. No, I want what I’m due. I’ve got my stock, but that won’t be worth anything for years, if ever. I’d really prefer to just have that money now and leave those fuckers behind forever.”

“Hmmmm,” mused Chloe.

“Hmmmm?” asked Paul.

“I’m beginning to see a plan. A brilliant plan.” She smiled wide.  “Abso-fucking-lutely brilliant. A way to make them pay you every last cent you’re owed and make them do it tomorrow. Truth is, it’s really your plan. And believe me, it’s a very, very good one. At least it will be once we finish coming up with it. But first I have to ask you some questions.”

Paul had a skeptical look on his face. “Okaaay,” he said. “What do you need to know?”

“Do you still have a key to the office and the security codes and all that?”

“Yes,” said Paul.

“Great,” she said as she pulled her cell phone from her pocket and started dialing. “What time does everyone go home?”

“It’s hard to say,” said Paul. “Most of the people leave around seven or eight, but a couple of the programmers stay until midnight or later.” He watched as she held the phone to her ear, “Who’re you calling?”

“I’m getting the gang together. We can’t do this on our own. Gotta have the whole crew.” 

Then she was talking into the phone, leaving a message for someone named Raff. After that she made four or five other calls while Paul just sat there. He wondered who these people were and if one of them was Chloe’s boyfriend (or girlfriend for that matter). If she had a boy/girlfriend at all. She never told any of the people what was going on – just that they needed to get over to the house by six and that they had a job to do tonight. 

“One more thing Paul,” said Chloe when she hung up on the last member of this mysterious gang. “I need you to tell me everything you can about your company’s lawyers and your partners’ legal experience.”

CHAPTER 3

Paul knew that the plan was insane and probably illegal. Certainly the stuff he’d been helping Chloe and her gang of followers do for the last few hours was technically illegal. He’d asked them why they were helping him, what did they hope to gain? They’d told him that this is what they did for fun. Chloe assured him that they “lived for this kinda shit.” Ok, fine. He could sort of see that. Once he was there, helping them come up with the plan and then actually carrying it out, it sure as hell was exciting – probably the most exciting thing he’d ever done. 

Now that he was home and alone with his misgivings and paranoia, it all seemed like a really stupid idea. If it weren’t for Chloe and her mesmerizing enthusiasm, there’s no doubt that he wouldn’t be doing this at all. But it was too late now. Or was it?

It was five in the morning when Paul got back to his apartment. He’d told Chloe that he wanted to get a few hours sleep before the big meeting, but he now realized that there was no way he was going to be able to relax. When he’d stepped out the door twenty-two hours earlier he’d still had his job and was looking forward to a showing the rest of the art team his new designs for some of the higher-level monsters he wanted to add to the game. Screw that, he thought, they’re my monsters now. I’ll use them somewhere else.

It could never work. How could it? Right then and there Paul decided that he was going to call the whole thing off. It wasn’t too late. They hadn’t done anything yet that wasn’t reversible. No one had been hurt. No money had changed hands. No one had been lied to. If he called it off right now he could just move on and try and put the whole, sorry state of affairs behind him. 

He sat down on the couch, the sole piece of furniture in his living room aside from the TV, and started to dial Chloe’s number. Then he stopped. No, he thought. Not yet. Think about this for a minute. It might work. And if it does work you’re set. Everything you want out of this shitty situation. 

Paul decided to make himself a pot of coffee and take a nice long, hot shower. He was supposed to meet Chloe at the office at 9:00 AM sharp. If he called her at home in a few hours he could talk things through with her again and, if he wanted to call them off, he could. 

As he stood in the shower he wondered again why they were helping him. They were thrill seekers sure. But this wasn’t skydiving or even graffiti. It was, in a way, theft or extortion, or possibly fraud There might be serious jail time on the line. But Chloe, with her uncanny confidence, had assured him they’d be fine. That it wasn’t nearly as bad as it sounded. Not nearly as against the law as Paul thought it probably should be. She’d called some lawyer friend (did she say former-lawyer or former friend?) and run some of the stuff by him. Be cool she’d said. Everything would work itself out. He almost believed her.

He decided to dress professionally for this final confrontation and would’ve put on a suit, but he didn’t own one. He didn’t even have a tie. In fact, he wasn’t entirely sure he’d still remember how to tie one if he did. It’d been ten years since he worked at Barnes and Noble and had to wear ties. They didn’t even make the clerks do that anymore he’d noticed. He had a white button down shirt that had been hanging in his closet since before his friend Matt’s wedding. He’d had it cleaned for the occasion and then forgotten to pack it. He found a relatively clean pair of khakis to go with it – his dress blacks were balled up in the corner and covered in carpet lint.