Success, Opulence and Power by Hebru Young (the unexpected everything .txt) 📕

When the elevator door opened, I could see Brandon scrolling through eMessages on his interactive desk. The desk faced the elevator, and he was the first point of contact for the VIPs who were allowed on my wing. Brandon only used his virtual privacy screen for confidential messages. The disadvantage to this was that anytime he activated privacy mode, a dark tint would cover the glass screen from behind, and this restricted his view to the elevator. He didn’t like using this mode, because he wanted to be prepared for whoever was coming from the elevator. He knew it would more than likely be me and the VIPs, but he liked to be prepared.

From the reverse view of his eMessages, I saw it was the usual stuff: building maintenance, suppliers, company updates, etc. Underneath his desk, attached to customised compartments, was a laser-sighted .45mm Aggressiv, a German-manufactured handgun. The compartment also contained its counterpart, the Aggressiv AI submachine gun with programmable DNA-heat-seeking bullets. The submachine gun is impressive; it uses a combination of DNA and heat to locate its target. It also had a “fire-at-will” mode. With this, Brandon was capable of incapacitating anyone who managed to bypass all the security measures that have been put in place. This was highly unlikely to happen though. It would take a great deal of effort to make it past the lobby downstairs, through the narrow glass barrier, and up the private elevator. Even if somehow, someone was able to bypass security, and Brandon, there were still the two giant, auto-tint bulletproof glass doors shielding my office from intruders. The doors could easily absorb the impact from a pistol or assault rifle of any kind. In this building, I was almost one hundred percent safe.

As I approached Brandon’s desk, I saw that Alex, Chris, and Joe were already there with coffee in hand. Brandon and I exchanged greetings, and he informed me that I had a direct message on my comms. This must have been important, because only a few people had my desk-comms address tag. Brandon had no access to my direct messages; he could only see that a message had been left. He asked if I would like auto-tint activated, and I said yes. He said coffee had been served—he must have seen me from his screen the moment I entered the downstairs lobby. He had access to security cameras in the building—another security measure that would ensure the building was safe enough for me to roam.

As I walked in, I took my coat off and hung it on the coat rack near the entrance. I said hello to the guys, walked over to my desk and brought the message up on my comms. It was an encrypted message from an unknown comms device. The message read, Eddie, the narcotics charge is a nonissue. Don’t worry about it, the charges will be dropped before you know it. Regards, Renegade. The message was from one of my contacts at the NFDA, Commissioner of Food and Drugs, Charles Rickman. Those of us at the very top of our respective organizations used code names when exchanging messages with one another and didn’t want to incriminate ourselves. This was excellent news. If only I had more men like Rickman in other branches of government—I would be untouchable.

There were many revolutionary drugs and supplements that hadn’t been approved by the NFDA for various reasons. Some of these drugs had already been approved in regions outside of the Nations. However, due to red tape and propaganda by other parties, the NFDA as a collective was unable to give approval for these products. One reason was that there had been issues with drug trials. There was always some animal-rights activist group that would protest drug trials on animals, which meant human trials couldn’t begin. All this even though animal and human trials had been successfully completed in other regions.

Another issue was the Nations Revenue Service was suggesting an unreasonable thirty-five percent tax for a number of products that did pass trials. Pharmaceutical companies would have to agree to the proposed level of taxation before the drugs could be made available to the public. There was also turmoil within the NFDA where not all officials agreed on various policies relating to the drugs.

For some stakeholders it was just too much of a hassle trying to go the legal route. With all the barriers and misaligned stars, there were still individuals in various branches of government who were willing to bend the law in order to facilitate selling these drugs by any means necessary. This is why the production and distribution of illegal drugs and supplements was at an all-time high. As long as these key government officials had been compensated, the drugs were allowed to find their way to the black market and most times even to retail. This of course depended on individual circumstances. The products couldn’t be traced back to any particular company, and any investigation would lead to several suspicious candidates, leaving too large a pool of suspects and insufficient proof to charge or convict anyone.

“Good morning, all,” I said.

“How’s it going, Dom, sleep okay?” Chris asked.

“Yeah, thanks, Chris. After I got home, I went straight to bed,” I replied.

“So, you’re all refreshed and ready to go then,” Joe asked.

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far. But it has to be done, so let’s do it. We have a bit of good news. I can’t go into details, but all you need to know is I have confirmation that the narcotics charge will eventually be dropped. Joe, we just need you to figure out a way to drag out the issue until the charges go away,” I said.

“That’s great news. To be honest this one wasn’t going the distance; there are just way too many officials on the take for this