Charlie Williams’ estate was one of the biggest Shiraz had ever seen in real life - big enough to have a name of its own, though not a very original one: Charlie’s Ranch. Of course, the place was a far cry from being an actual ranch; it was located in the middle of the city, and it had no farm animals hanging around. The only thing that was remotely associated with a ranch was the cowboy-themed iron-made sign above the entrance, shaped like two riders brandishing guns and wearing old western hats. The name of the ranch hung between them, shiny and glittering in the afternoon sun.

Shiraz watched this sign from where she stood in the shadows of a large oak tree across the street. She felt safe when shadows enveloped her, and she longed to unleash her power; to twist the shadows and bind them to her will and to jump from one shade to the next. She even curled her fist, as if she could feel the shadows solidifying in her hands, but then frowned. Don’t be stupid, she scolded herself. You can’t do this stuff here.

But she wanted to. Oh how deeply she wanted to become the heroine she played in VD. She had a lot of time to think on her way from Raxlon’s secluded farmhouse - it took her the better part of the morning to find her way out of the forest, hitchhike to the nearest metropolis and then pay nearly all the money she had to a cab driver that got her here. Her arm still throbbed in pain - the driver saw the dried blood and asked her if she was alright; she didn’t answer and he let her be - but her head was clear. Raxlon’s words spun in her mind, urging her forward. She felt driven, focused. Nothing could distract her from her quest. And she also felt… expectant. During this long ride, one of the many things Raxlon had said seemed to push aside all the rest: the fact that Ben was somehow using his VD powers in real life. And if Ben could do that...

The VD shadow mage clenched and unclenched her fist. I will find out how it’s being done. She felt a tingle running through her fingers and for an instant, her breath caught - but then she realized that her mind was playing tricks on her. Wishing for it to happen won’t make it come true. She had to struggle to push the dreams of using her virtual powers for real and focus on the task at hand. I have to get back in the game. I have to talk to Ben.

Cursing, Shiraz looked again at the gate. Two men stood there, silently watching the street. She could see that both were armed, but wasn’t surprised. She wasn’t an avid news fan, but one had to be utterly disconnected to not know what was going on in this city. Crime was on a steep rise for several years now, and it was common for people who dwelt in wealthy neighborhoods such as this to employ armed men to guard their estates. It seemed that Charlie Williams, aka The Red Mercenary, wasn’t any different in that regard.

Shiraz started walking, keeping a casual pace so as not to alarm the guards, though she could feel their eyes on her as she walked. She knew she looked very out of place in this lofty part of town, with her stained jeans and with her face and hands all scratched and dirty. At least her face was partially hidden in the shadow of her cap, though Shiraz didn’t think anyone would recognize her here. She was phoneless, watchless, and she hadn’t made any contact with anybody except Raxlon since she had gotten up from her bed that morning. Still, the young woman found it hard not to break into a jog as she drew away from the gate.

Her plan was simple: she needed to break into Red’s estate and grab one of his VD sets. Trying to enter the place the usual way was out of the question - she couldn’t risk being questioned or delayed. Trying to directly contact Red was also impractical - she didn’t know how to reach him, and besides, he was probably still connected into Raxlon’s world. That left only the less conventional method, a way that was much more… adventurous. Shiraz smiled to herself as she looked around. There was a low wall surrounding the estate, and Shiraz walked next to it for a couple of minutes until the guards were out of sight. Then she looked swiftly around her. The street was empty. She braced herself, and before she could think about it twice, the VD vagabond ran to the wall - and jumped.

Her legs were strong from years of competitive swimming, and she easily made it to the top of the wall, where she grabbed the ledge and pulled herself up. For a moment she hung there, risking a few seconds of possible exposure to watch what lay on the other side of the wall. The Ranch sprawled before her in all its glory. She could see the main house - four stories high and as big as a small hotel. Several smaller buildings surrounded it, as well as a tennis court, a shooting range, a large pool with clear water that glistened in the winter sun and even a small grove of evergreens. The whole compound screamed wealth and Shiraz, who remembered Red’s fondness for getting loot in VD, idly wondered what made the man more satisfied - being rich in real life or the virtual world. Surely you will forgive me for stealing some of your loot, won’t you Red? At least she hoped he would.

The pool and its adjacent pool house were the closest to her and fortunately, were empty of people. Shiraz gulped but once again didn’t stop to consider her actions. She pushed herself down from the ledge and landed on the grass, some 6 feet below. She landed smoothly but didn’t see the water sprinkler that hid amidst the blades of grass. Her ankle twisted on impact and she nearly cried out in pain and lost her balance, but somehow managed to stay silent - and on her feet. Shiraz bit her lower lip and felt tears stinging her eyes. Minor pain, she reminded herself. Not even 1 HP.

Voices drifted from somewhere, getting stronger. Shiraz had a split second to decide whether to crouch and stay in the shadows of the wall, jump back up and to the street, or run toward the pool house and try to avoid detection.

Her heart hammering in her chest, she sprang into a mad run. The quickest route was straight along with the pool, so that’s how she went, her long legs carrying her quickly from the grass to the poolside floor. Somebody stacked a few sun-loungers in a pile directly in her path and Shiraz jumped over them like she was in a hurdle race. She cleared them effortlessly and then had a moment of panic as she slipped on the slippery floor and almost found herself plunging into the water. She managed to stabilize herself - her ankle hurt like hell - and quickly covered the last few yards, flattening herself against the wall of the pool house.

Breathing hard, the young woman turned to look over the corner of the wall where she hid. She could now see who the voices she heard belonged to, as two men - more guards, to judge by the guns at their belts - were making their way toward the pool, talking.

“ - telling you that I recognized these fuckers,” said one of them. He looked angry. “From the time I worked in the streets.”

“So they’re some baddies who now found their place in the world. What of it?” The other guard looked much more cheerful than his companion. “I can’t get you. You just got a day off, and you’re pissed - “

“Ain’t seem right, is all,” said the first one. “Them ordering us around like that. And who was that blond chick? I couldn’t see her face, only that she looked hot from where I stood.” The thought seemed to cheer him up a bit.

His friend laughed. “Don’t ask me. But you know our boss; he knows how to pick his women. She’s probably here for one of his parties.”

“Jeez, if that’s the case I hope that it’s a true party and not a virtual one this time. And I hope we won’t get a day off when that happens!”

Their laughter faded away as they entered a shadowy trail between some of the trees in the grove and vanished from sight. Shiraz breathed in relief and even smiled to herself. Virtual parties. Blond chicks. She was definitely in the right place. Now she only had to find where her warrior friend was keeping his extra consoles, and she would be that much closer to helping Ben and finding out the secrets of Raxlon’s world.

The VD shadow mage checked the inner pocket of her jacket, where she put the card Raxlon had given her - her access back to Nolxar. The black card was still there, together with the USB device, which she hadn’t managed to check yet. She hoped she would have the time to do it later, but first thing’s first.

Checking that nobody else was around, Shiraz started running toward the main house.

***

Rebecca Curtis, known by most who worked under her as Mistress R, was unhappy. “This is not going as planned, Sullivan,” she said as she paced back and forth in the indoor patio of Charlie’s Ranch. She was alone on the deck - this was a private call, so she left her guards outside - but she still kept her voice low. “I can’t understand how you’re so calm about it.”

“Everything is going exactly as planned, Rebbeca.” Sullivan’s voice, coming through her wireless earphone, was not entirely emotionless, but it came close - at least to the ears of the agitated Rebecca. “The friend has served his purpose. I am about to secure the sister and get rid of the father. The DM is ours.” He paused, and when he spoke again, there was a slightly irritated tinge to his voice. “The only thing that bothers me is Ben’s attitude. He refused Valla, which is promising, but the way he did it, as if he wasn’t totally sure... ”

Rebecca knew that Sullivan didn’t like to be interrupted, but this time she couldn’t help herself. “Ben is the only thing that bothers you?” She raised her voice, incredulous. “His part is the only thing that goes according to plan! What about the girl who escaped us? Or the men that attacked Ben in the fucking streets? My contacts tell me that the man who was injured has nearly died and now the police have him. We’re exposed, Sullivan. Who knows what he will tell them. And if the girl - ”

“Hush, my love,” said Sullivan and Rebecca was furious to hear that now he sounded amused! “The men worked with Jarod. They’re part of the plan and will say nothing I don’t want them to. As for the girl…” He chuckled. “I believe you will find her sooner than you think.”

Rebbeca was taken aback. “Sooner? What do you mean? What aren’t you telling me?”

“A great many things,” he replied calmly, and Rebbeca frowned, though she didn’t argue. They were lovers and business partners, but that didn’t mean Sullivan Vincent trusted her with all of his secrets. She could hardly blame him, as she was keeping quite a number of things from him as well.

“Well, at least put my mind at ease about this runaway girl,” she said, trying not to sound as bitter as she felt. “She has the potential to ruin everything we worked for.”

To her utter amazement, Sullivan laughed. “Effie Hunter is crouching behind the open window of the patio you’re standing in, holding one of Charlie’s VD sets in her lap and looking very… determined. She’s probably eavesdropping on our conversation right now. Well, at least on your side of it.”

Rebecca froze. She had to restrain herself from looking around at the windows, but she did raise her head a bit. Was that the tip of a baseball hat behind the window over the flowerbed? Her cheeks flushed, and she felt hot, steaming anger. “How - “ She stopped, changed the question. “Why - “ She stopped again. She wanted to ask him why he was letting her speak freely if he knew she was being listened to, but how could she ask that when she was being listened to?

Sullivan - God curse him - laughed again. “The all-powerful Mistress R, being bested by a clueless girl from the suburbs,” he said. “A good lesson in humility, if nothing else.”

The hat by the window moved a little and Rebecca had to stop herself from screaming. “Sullivan!”

“Yes, yes. Sorry.” He sighed. “I know she’s there because I have access to Charlie’s security cameras, and because she still has the VR device deep in her body. The foolish DM thought he disabled it, but he only sliced the poor girl’s skin, nothing more. And I’m letting her hear what you’re saying,” he added, his voice growing serious, “because it’s going to serve our purpose.”

Rebecca could detect the change in his voice, and she felt her anger dissipate somewhat. There was a reason she - probably the most feared woman in the city - followed this man. He was the smartest person she knew, and his master plan was going to change the world. “Tell me,” she said quietly.

“This girl is our leverage against the boy’s final shreds of conscience,” said Sullivan. “He loves her, you see, and we need him to see her suffering to push him over the edge.”

Rebecca thought she understood. “That’s why you let her - ”

“Yes,” Sullivan swiftly cut her, and Rebbeca cursed herself inwardly for her stupidity. “Hunter wants to get back to the game, and we’re going to let her,” he continued. “But first, we must use this opportunity and let her learn a few things about what’s going on. I want her to act on her emotions, rather than think her actions through.”

Always your favorite tactic, thought Rebecca, but then Sullivan said, “this is what I want you to say,” and Rebecca fell silent, listening.

***

Shiraz crouched in the corridor, her heart in her throat. Her hands, grabbing the box that held the precious VD set inside, were sweaty. Beads of sweats also trickled down her nose and cheeks, but she dared not move to wipe them off, lest someone saw her. That she managed to get thus far without being seen meant she was either very lucky or that the guards that patrolled the estate were pretty lousy. Or, came the unbidden thought, maybe I did learn a few tricks during my years in VD as a legendary rogue. Maybe I’m just a good sneak.

Whatever the reason was, Shiraz had managed to break into Red’s house without any difficulties. She found an open window, climbed inside, and then cautiously moved from floor to floor, searching for treasure: the extra VD sets that Charlie Williams supposedly kept in his estate.

She found her query on the third floor - a floor that was, she immediately realized, dedicated solely for VD, though it took her some time to figure it out. It had one main chamber, which somebody had taken great care to design as a Western saloon: it had wooden floors, stand-up bars with rows upon rows of whiskey bottles and other beverages, a huge chandelier that hung from the ceiling, wall posters for alcohol and tobacco (as well as few posters of scantily clad women), and even an old piano in the corner of the room.

For a moment she felt as if she indeed was transported a few centuries back in time, but then her eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room and she realized that the Western theme was just a decor for the main attraction: VD.

Along the walls were several comfortable-looking sofas and lounge chairs and when Shiraz crept closer, she could see numerous VD sets that stood on stools next to the Western-style furniture, casually waiting for people to sit down and plunge themselves into the virtual world. She could well imagine the room full of people, lounging around with their eyes closed and connected to some virtual adventure, while others were sitting by the bar, drinking and waiting their turn at VD. A pair of crossed swords that hung above the bar drew her eyes, and she had to smile upon seeing what was inscribed below them: “STOP DAYDREAMING. JOIN THE FUN.” And below that: “Yours Truly, The Red Mercenary.”

The sound of steps approaching tore her from her brief reverie, and Shiraz crouched behind one of the sofas, holding her breath. As had happened before, the guard that opened the door never saw her; he just peeked inside the room, made sure it was empty, and then closed the door and kept doing his rounds. Shiraz breathed in relief and decided she lingered long enough; she grabbed the closest VD console, put it in its box and quickly made her way back the way she came.

She would have made her escape clean, but a moment before she climbed the window back to the garden outside, a woman’s voice drifted from somewhere close, and Shiraz froze. She couldn’t make all of the words, but what she heard made her eyes widen:

“What about the girl who escaped us?”

It was a coincidence, of course. Had to be a coincidence. Shiraz put her hand on the window’s ledge and was about to pull herself up, but the woman kept speaking, sounding angry:

“Or the men that attacked Ben in the fucking streets?”

Shiraz breathed hard. This was too freakish weird to be a coincidence. A woman in Red’s house, talking about a runaway girl and about… Ben. The woman was talking about her. And about Ben. Her Ben. Shiraz was suddenly sure of it. After all, Raxlon had mentioned something about the people from SH Gaming attacking Ben in real life. But why would SH Gaming be here, in Red’s estate? It made no sense, unless...

And so she found herself backtracking the way she came, crouching as low as she could until she squatted next to an open window that led to an indoor patio. Peeking inside, she saw the back of a tall blond woman, who walked back and forth across the deck, speaking into the wireless earphone. She seemed distressed, and as Shiraz looked, the woman suddenly froze where she stood, slightly raising her head.

Shiraz immediately crouched lower, holding her breath. The beads of sweat rolled down the side of her nose, and her heart was drumming madly inside her chest. Was she spotted?

It appeared that she wasn’t, as the women kept on speaking, first in single words - “how”, “why” and “Sullivan!” being a few of them. Then followed a long silence, and Shiraz began to think that the conversation was over. She nearly made her way back to the window, but then the woman started talking again, and Shiraz felt the blood drain from her face.

“Whatever you say, Sullivan,” said the blond woman. She didn’t sound angry anymore, only slightly bitter. “Yes, I understand. I will pass the message to the mercenary, through Jarod, as soon as I’m able.”

A pause. Then - “I remember, word for word. The mercenary is to use his power to convince Ben to go through with the lord’s plan. Kill the princess, and as many elves as they can. I got it. On it. I just need to know something first - “

But Shiraz didn’t linger to hear the rest of the conversation. Clutching the precious box in her hands, the young woman ran away from there, as swiftly as she could. She threw the box out of the window and quickly followed it outside. Her sweaty palms slid along the window frame; she lost her grip and all but fell down, landing heavily on her already battered ribs. Luckily, there was a Camellia bush underneath the window, and she crashed right into it, the dense foliage softening her fall.

Cursing and spitting leaves out of her mouth, Shiraz struggled to extract herself from the lustrous bush. She rolled out of it, grabbed the box that lay on the grass nearby and retrieved her hat as well, which fell from her head as she crashed. She looked around, thinking that she made enough noise to attract even the lousiest of guards, but the garden was clear of people, as well as the corridor from where she jumped.

Shiraz swallowed, taking a few moments to compose herself, though it wasn’t an easy thing to do. She wasn’t afraid anymore. She was angry. Furious. She was so mad with rage that her hands trembled, and her various wounds seemed like they belonged to someone else. There was no room for pain in her mind. Her entire focus was centered on one thought only: Red is a traitor. The sonofabitch is working with the enemy!

What Raxlon told her, about how the people of SH Gaming were trying to corrupt Ben’s mind, was suddenly making much more sense. You must find out who works with Sullivan inside the game, said the DM, but Shiraz never dreamed that it would be the Red Mercenary who will be in his list of traitors.

And he’s going to use his powers on Ben. Shiraz well remembered her suspicions that the big warrior was using some kind of manipulation power on the young noob - suspicions she had shared with Ben, though she was never sure the scout believed his warrior friend really wanted to harm him. Well, now he will. Shiraz spat on the wall of Red’s house. I will make sure of it.

Taking one more look to make sure she wasn’t being watched, the VD shadow mage started running again.

***

Sullivan Vincent had to stifle a yawn lest he would seem bored. He wasn’t - quite the opposite - but the stress of the last couple of days was finally beginning to take its toll. Sullivan hadn’t slept properly since the moment Ben had first logged in to Raxlon’s Power Quest. There were simply too many things to take care of, and too few people he could trust with his secrets. Even Rebbeca, whom he trusted more than most, knew only part of his plan. The notorious Mistress R had her uses, but as more of his plan unfolded, she became more and more… bothersome. He started to grow tired from having to explain everything to her and found himself doing small tasks - such as the one he was busy at right now - on his own, instead of relying on her people. Indeed, Rebecca had insisted that Sullivan send Gary “the boxer” to take care of this business, but Sullivan refused, though he wondered if he did it only to spite her.

The young woman that kneeled on the floor started speaking again. “Please, let me go, I - I - I don’t know where my father is. I will give you all my money, please… please, put that gun away.”

Sullivan frowned. He turned the gun in his hand, examining it. An ugly thing, really. He hated guns. He thought them clumsy, stupid weapons, relics of times that were soon to pass from this world. Yet he also knew that for the time being these devices were, for most people, a symbol of fear and control. He would make what use he could of them.

Looking back at the whimpering woman, Sullivan narrowed his eyes. “Your father is not in the club where he’s supposed to be working, nor is he in his apartment. Where else can he be?”

The woman shook her head. Her eyes - olive green, like her brother’s - were very big and very frightened. “I don’t know,” she said, and tears were streaming down her cheeks. “We’re not very close ... we speak only once a month. I don’t know where he is.”

Sullivan pressed his lips together. It was a minor inconvenience, but it was annoying - he was a man who liked to tie up all the loose ends, and the thought of leaving the father unguarded didn’t sit well with him. Still, he couldn’t afford to lose any more time over it. The important one was the sister, and he had her right in front of him, kneeling and frightened. Maybe too frightened? Or was she acting? He looked at her, wondering how much of Ben she had in her. She had the same eyes, the same high cheekbones and black hair, but her expression lacked the ambitious glint he had recognized in Ben. No, he decided. This one doesn’t have her young brother’s strong will. She will be much easier to manipulate.

Sullivan lowered the gun, and Abi visibly relaxed. “Very well,” he said. “I believe you. I do, however, need you to come with me. Go on, stand up.”

She did, but her eyes darted all over the place, and Sullivan knew she was thinking of a way to escape. Her eyes lingered briefly on the living room’s balcony, and Sullivan quickly adjusted his glasses, mentally relaying the command to change the view he saw to the street outside. The camera he was controlling through the smart device focused on the residential building where Abi lived. Her apartment was on the first floor, but it still meant a jump of about 15 feet into the busy street below.

“I wouldn’t do it if I were you,” he suggested, switching back to normal view. “Even if you survive the jump without breaking anything, my men are waiting for us down there. It will be better if we just went down the stairs.”

She looked at him, and for the first time, he recognized a hint of fire in her eyes. “What do you want?” She snapped. “Not my money.”

Sullivan smiled thinly. Maybe she has more of Ben in her than I gave her credit for. “No, not your money. I just want you to come with me, is all.”

Abi clenched her fists, and Sullivan’s eyes widened a bit when he suddenly saw something he missed before: the woman wore a thin silver bracelet around her arm, and it was a complete replica of the bracelet he saw Ben wear. How very interesting, he mused.

The woman backed away from him, defiant. “No,” she said and started looking around again. This time her eyes locked on her phone that lay on the living room table. “I won’t.”

Sullivan sighed. He had no time for this. “Listen, Abi. I need you to come with me. Your brother’s life is in danger, and you are the only one who can help him.”

That made her stop. “Ben? What are you talking about? What happened to him?”

He had to struggle to look worried. “Nothing, for now. But if you won’t come…”

She bit her lip, looking undecided. “Where… where is he?”

“I will tell you everything. But not here.” He put a threatening edge to his voice and raised his gun again. “Come with me now. I won’t say it again.”

She came.

A few minutes later, after Sullivan handed Abi to his men that waited outside the door, he lingered in the empty apartment, walking over to the balcony and watching as his men - his men, not Rebbeca’s - led the troublesome sister into a black car that parked nearby. He then thought about his earlier conversation with Rebecca and what he saw through his glasses and the security cameras in Charlie’s Ranch. The CEO of SH Gaming allowed himself a small smile. All the pieces are in place, he thought. Now it's your turn, Ben.