“There are two obstacles that we have to overcome as I see it,” Trigger explained. “The cameras and the thermal scanners.”
“Thermal scanners?”
“Is that a bit of nervousness I hear, Cap?”
“Why’d they put those on the island?”
“Some things blend in so well that the cameras are not likely to pick them up. The thermal scanners are tied into the cameras. With just a flick of a button, you can see all the heat signatures within range of the camera’s view. It’s how they spot the dragons. If it was just a matter of the cameras, I think we could outfit you so they’d never see you. It’s the thermals we have to worry about.”
“So what is your idea?”
“As you know, there are only two ways to trick thermals. One is to remove any heat, which means you’re dead, and the other is to make everything so hot that it can’t distinguish anything.”
“You’re talking about dropping a nuke on the island, Trigger.”
“Not very feasible is it?”
“So how do you solve this?”
The former sharpshooter stood up and walked over to a broken down locker and took out a can of paint. “This is heat reflectant. I coated the outside of the walls here so that no thermal devices could see inside.”
“Are you suggesting I paint myself with the stuff?”
“Nah, you’d die of a heat stroke within a day.”
“Then what?”
Trigger put the can on the table and took out a small hand computer. “I think I can program this to show you where each of the cameras is and where their present field of view is. I’ve already tapped into the feeds so creating the overlay shouldn’t be an issue. We need to coat your clothing with the reflectant.”
John’s face twisted up in distaste. “Won’t that make things hot?”
“Very hot. You’ll have enough places for the heat to escape so you don’t completely overheat, but it will be like wearing a sauna.”
“Great.”
“Well, it should obscure your heat signature enough that you won’t appear human. When you are close to one of these cameras, you may want to paint some stripes of the stuff on your face so those areas look cool.”
John thought about it some. “It wouldn’t fool someone who is looking for me.”
“Nope. But unless they are looking for a human trying to hide in their game zone, they probably won’t take the time to investigate…provided said thermal image behaves in some rational way.” Trigger looked meaningfully at John.
“I never said I was rational.”
“Don’t I know it?” He picked up the hand computer again. “John, I know you know how to use the terrain to keep you hidden from these cameras. Just don’t forget that there are overlapping views. You need to cover your flank as well.”
“Got it. When will you be ready?”
“One day.” He hesitated. “Maybe two.”
John sighed. “I hope they can last that long.”
“Why is this important to you, John? From what I hear, these are bad kids. Murderers and terrorists.”
Striding over to a nearby wall, John slid down until he sat on the floor. “For the most part, they are—though I am not so sure about Neesha. It is very possible that she would never have gone through with her plans to murder her mother if given half a chance. The other two were clearly caught in the act and with the tools to carry out their plans, but Neesha wasn’t. Mostly, I am doing this for her. But even the two boys don’t deserve this. This—game—is nothing more than a way for the mob cartels to make money. They are using these kids and the desperation of humanity to compile a fortune. And Trigger, you know what the really scary thing is?”
“Tell me.”
“Money is power. If the cartels gain so much money, they will run governments. That’s my fear. Few governments are strong enough to oppose these crime organizations. They don’t care about justice. They don’t care about right and wrong—they don’t care if these kids are guilty or innocent. They only care about money. If they get it, they can buy governments, Trigger. You understand what that means?”
“Aye, I do. It means utter chaos. Anarchy. Might makes right.”
John nodded. “I plan to spoil the game, Trigger. I intend to make it boring if I can, bloodless if I can’t. I want to make killing any of those kids a crime in the eyes of every decent person on this planet. If a loud enough cry is made over this, then the mob cartels will have to back down. They will lose leverage and it might just give some of our governments the time to get back on their feet and put a stop to this madness.”
“Are these orders?”
Grimacing, John shook his head. “No, or rather, not officially. The US government needs this to happen as they stand to gain much of the money that will flow in as a result of the wagers. They can’t be seen to interfere in anyway.”
“You were ever the optimist,” Trigger said. “Personally, I think you’re an idiot. This is a battle you can’t win. Your own country won’t even back you up. If you get caught, they won’t bother to lift a finger when the mob executes you.”
“I know. Noble, eh?”
Trigger muttered something under his breath before saying, “Noble goals are like that, I suppose. We find something we need to fight for, but rarely do we pick a fight we can win. There just seems to be something inside of us that wants to fight the unwinnable.”
“Except you, Trigger.”
“Except a lot of people, I guess. I believe in picking my battles. I like to win.”
“There are degrees of winning, my friend.”
“But if you aren’t standing at the finish line to see it, what will it matter to you?”
“Perhaps not to me,” John agreed sadly. “But it might matter to someone.”
“Stop being melodramatic. Tell me, what do you know of Manari?”
Trigger starting cursing and throwing out vile insults. “He isn’t my immediate boss,” he explained with a pinched face. “If he was, I would have murdered him a long time ago. He heads the New York branch of the mafia—a senior lieutenant, I think. He’s big time, Cap. They would not have put him in charge of this stupid game if he wasn’t. I heard he has no scruples—loves killing just to kill.”
“What would happen if I took him out?” John asked.
“You crazy? They wouldn’t rest until they had your head on a platter.”
“I wouldn’t aim to let anyone know it was me, Trigger. I would be discrete.”
Trigger snorted. “Even if you could, it wouldn’t matter. They would only send someone worse.”
“That’s what I figure. It’s the entire organization that needs to fall, not just a few men.” John sighed. “Things are never easy, are they?”
“I’d drink to that if there was anything around here to drink.”
John tapped his fingers against his cheek. An idea was forming—a very, very dangerous one. He smiled.