Social media came with new social obligations.

Overmind Memo 74

1 Week Later - Empty Man 57 (Supreme Leader) - Apartment Overlooking A Death Trap

I’m watching a video feed of the Bad Hat bar across the street. They’ve set a trap for the Copycat Bomber. Kinda. I gave them the idea, the equipment, the cash, even a couple diagrams. Basically an Ikea level deathtrap. So simple there aren't even words in the instructions.

Now I’m watching them drag a body to the basement of the bar. It is not Copycat.

“Did they just electrocute another one of their own team?” I ask.

“Yep.” says Supreme.

“Fuck I hate these guys.”

“Dude.” groans Supreme. “Don’t get me started.”

I look at him. Nod. “Sorry. That was insensitive.”

It’s a simple trap. We chose a bar that was statistically due some tactical malodorants. Then Supreme had some of his drones set up a tazer trap by the door. Somebody walks in, they get tazed, frisked for stink bombs, and shot if they have any. One, two, three, four, Copycat is no more.

Unfortunately, the plan wasn’t as simple as the drones asked to execute it. They decided to improve it. First they all showed up with gas masks. Which is unnecessary, because they will taze Copycat before the stink bomb goes off. Also it’s pointless, because if a bomb does go off, they will be wallpapered with thioacetone. Absent a military grade decontamination procedure, they’ll just barf whenever they get thirsty enough to take their masks off.

Supreme made them ditch the masks, but then the next problem reared its head - over tazing. We don’t know exactly when Copycat will show up, so there may be a couple dozen people through the bar before she does. Most of the traffic will be Supreme drones. Because it’s a Bad Hat bar. Also, we're running a Supreme conspiracy here. But that’s okay, because Supreme warns them when it’s one of their own walking in. Also, tazers are non-lethal, so mistakes should be non-lethal too.

Unless they’re so amped up that eight guys shoot eight tazers at anything that moves. Then one in four walk-ins die.

Eventually, we gave them back their gas masks to see if that would calm them down. So far, no.

“Why don’t we just give them shotguns?” I ask.

“Don’t tempt me.” grunts Supreme.

I hate these guys. I’d say it again, but Supreme has to deal with them 24/7. He doesn’t need me bitching.

Supreme watched these chuckleheads taze each other for a couple days, then called me to babysit. I brought three other Empty Men, and we took sniper positions around the bar. We’re gonna have a Supreme drone kill a Copycat even if we have to pull the trigger ourselves.

By all estimates, the militant wing of The Guild is tiny. There’s probably only a couple dozen Copycats. It’s amazing that they’re putting this much pressure on the Supreme network. Obviously, they’re attracting some talent. Our plan was to exhaust them with Supreme aggression. So far, that has not been working. They’re starting to branch out, hit other imitators. Maybe we should square them against Zonkers, or Talking Heads. Supremes have their uses, but apparently challenging Copycats is not one of them.

CRACK!!

I jump. “The fuck?”

“A bomb hit the bar.” says Supreme.

I look at the video feed. Putrid yellow smog fills the bar. Panicked drones heroically taze each other.

“Goddamn.” I reach for my rifle.

“Don’t!” snaps Supreme. “Something’s wrong.”

“What?”

KA-KA-KABOOM!!!

The three other sniper posts light up in eye watering thermite blasts.

“I-”

“Shut up!” snaps Supreme. “Tell me to call the 9-1-1.”

I gulp. “Call 9-1-1. Tell them there’s a… tell them this.” I wave out the window.

“Excellent.” says Supreme. “Now listen carefully. You just tried to expose and murder Copycat. Now she’s trying to expose and murder you. You must assume she can see and hear you. Act like an innocent bystander. Statistically, that means you stare at the fires and whisper what the fuck.”

“What the fuck.” I whisper.

“WiFi radar can see through walls, but only movement. So she can’t see your rifle if you don’t touch it. That’s probably the mistake the other snipers made. Right now you’re just a guy having a panic attack at a window. Apparently that’s not enough for murder. Or maybe she has a more elaborate murder planned. We’ve been talking a lot of shit the last couple days. I wonder if she heard that? Obviously we underestimated her. She must have had this site under surveillance. Was she looking for a Supreme trap? Or, is she wise to Empty Man? The distinction is relevant. Did you ever watch The Guild’s old Exterminate games? They would hide sentinel drones and boobytraps in garbage. Look at all the garbage out there. Some of it is definitely hiding mini thermite grenade launchers.”

I shudder. Stumble back to the couch. Curl up.

“Yeah, we could talk about this more, but why? She either knows who you are, or she doesn’t. Nothing we can do about it now. Let’s see, what’s the best use of the time we have?” Supreme sits next to me. “Mr and Mrs Dursley of number 4, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal...

He’s reading Harry Potter to me. The way my dad did when I couldn’t sleep. I curl up and try to stop shaking. If I move, she can see me. I have to stop shaking...