The Game

  Chapter 9

  Brandon Strayne sat in the back of his private transport, watching the daily feeds of the Game as he drove to meet Zack. Today was the Angelica interview, and the entire world would be watching. Brandon was pleased; experts predicted the largest audience in years would tune in to this broadcast. Although money no longer mattered to him, some of his partners would certainly appreciate the profits generated from today's event.

  His phone buzzed and, as he answered it, Brandon heard a complex series of beeps and clicks indicating that the call was heavily encrypted to protect the privacy of the speakers. Recognizing the unique pattern immediately, Brandon sighed and raised the privacy glass between him and the driver.

  “Hello, sir.” Brandon said respectfully.

  “So formal, boy. By now you should be able to greet your father more warmly.” The voice on the other end was deep and rich, full of strength and power.

  “I’m busy, Father, and so are you. What do you need to say?”

  “Is he on board? Will Zack do as you assured me he would?”

  Brandon closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “He will do his best. You know better than anyone how the Game works. There are no guarantees once he goes in.”

  “I know that,” the old man snapped impatiently. “I didn’t ask for a guarantee. Has he spent the credits, and are we on track?”

  Brandon paused. “Yes.”

  “The others are all in place?”

  “Perfectly.”

  “You’re almost out of time, son. You know that as well as I do.”

  Brandon knew this better than anyone, but he didn’t dare admit it to his father. “It’s under control.”

  “Thirty years go by fast, Brandon. You’ve done better than I could have hoped for, son.”

  Brandon ignored his father’s compliment. He had learned that unpleasant things often followed a compliment from his Dad.

  “What does the girl being allowed to play again mean?”

  “I’m sure it has no meaning, sir. She did nothing when she played before. Her invitation is just random hype as part of the anniversary celebration.”

  There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Finally his father spoke. “Something in my gut tells me she’s a concern, boy. Keep an eye on her.”

  With a distinct click, the phone call was ended.