Money Money Money

In the not-so-distant future, an employee of one of the world's leading electronics firms learns a terrible truth- and finds himself the subject of a terrifying manhunt.



Derek sat for a while. His home had gone from peaceful to having two dead bodies on the floor. HE held his wife in his arms and sobbed. All that had been her was gone. The shell was limp as he sat there unashamedly crying his eyes out. How had he let things escalate to this point? Was all of the secrets worth the life of the woman he had loved for so many years? What should he do now? Should he call the police? What would he tell them? All of this went far beyond anything that they could even comprehend. He would have to call in some favours to get the bodies removed. This wasn't right and somebody was going to pay. He would make sure that these secrets and lies made their way into the public. People should know of the dangers the future had in store for them. Derek made his way over to the safe behind the painting on the wall, not very original but that's what he counting on. He pressed his eyes to the scanner and a click registered, the door opened Derek reached inside.

"I'm not sure you are worth all of this." He said through his tears. "Maybe I should just leave you someplace where you will be found."

"That isn't a good idea!" Derek spun around to find John Stockwell standing there pointing a gun.

John stockwell was a man who held so many secrets he could stun the world into silence. Derek wondered how long he had been outside. John was the same age as him and their paths had crossed many times over. Today it seemed he wanted the disc in Derek's hand.

"The disc!" He pointed the gun again. "The blueprints I hope!"

"Why are you doing this? You know what this has the power to do and where it came from."

"Which is why I must protect it from weak hearted men, like you."

"Do you think this is the only copy of the disc?"

John Stockwell smiled. "I have three so far!" He grabbed the disc. "Make that four."

"So what now? You kill me?"

"NO! You are far more useful alive. Besides I can see that you have a job to be getting on with."

John Stockwell stepped over the body on the floor and made his way to the door. Derek could have killed him then and there but he stood rooted to the spot until John had left the house.

Derek ran to his phone and dialled a number. He told the person who answered what had happened and that he needed some help to remove the bodies. He told them his wife should be treated with the respect she deserved when she was moved. The person on the other end of the phone agreed and Derek  slumped down into the chair at his desk. He looked down again at the lifeless body of his wife and broke down. He smashed his laptop to the floor and rushed from the room, he felt sick, he felt like his world had just came crashing down around him. What did he do now?

The whole of the world was in danger and Derek knew that he had a part to play in that. He hadn't wanted this to be used in the way it was intended. He wasn't even sure if they even fully understood how it all worked, yet the money symbols were in their eyes and they were sure that once the whole world had this in their possession that money was going to come rolling in. People wouldn't even be aware of what was going on and that was the way it had been planned from the start. Derek felt the weight of his involvement and wondered where he went from here?


John Stockwell drove away from Derek's ruined live in his big black and flashy Aston Martin Vantage SP10. The disc now safely stashed in the glove compartment was something he'd been content to leave in Derek's care for some time, but he'd watched him closely for years, always wondering if anyone else would come looking for it.

Tonight, someone had, and the body of the unknown assassin had, to John's trained eyes, appeared to be in quite the state. Derek had made him suffer. Whether he had gotten any information out of him was another matter.

What the incident had made clear was the disc couldn't stay with Derek any longer. If the wrong people got a hold of it... well, the consequences for the country- indeed, the wider world- were dire.

Now John drove, into the heart of London, to meet with some very important people...


Five minutes later, another car pulled up outside Derek's home. In the darkness of night time it was near impossible to tell what colour the Vauxhall Corsa actually was, and it a car very similar to many others parked in the street.

Two people (one male, one female) emerged from the car, and for a moment stared at the house, before walking up to it and knocking on the door.

A gruff voice spoke from behind it-

"What thou seest when thou dost wake?"

The man replied: "Do it for thy true-love take." The woman raised an eyebrow as Derek unlocked the door.

"A Midsummer Night's Dream." Said Derek sombrely as he opened the door. "My wife's favourite play."

The man nodded, and offered his hand to Derek, who took and shook it. "James, good to see you my old friend."

"Likewise. I'm so sorry it's under these circumstances."

"Come in, come in- the one you want to see is in the living room." Derek led the pair in. The pool of blood by the front door had been scrubbed, but was very much still evident. The scene in the living room however...

Angela's body lay covered by a bedsheet on the sofa. The body of the assasin was still on the floor, riddled with bullet wounds, and his dead eyes gazed up at the ceiling. Bits of broken table and laptop adourned the carpet. Blood was everywhere.

"That's the bastard there. Recognise him?" Asked Derek.

James knelt down beside the body, studying the face intently.

At 62, James wasn't much younger than Derek and their paths had first crossed during their army days. Derek had saved James' life more times than James cared to remember, and had looked after him like a brother. Now, Derek looked quite old, with silver hairs everywhere- James, being ginger, didn't have to worry about going grey. He was also in better shape- having never left the army as Derek had. Now he put his skills to use.

"As it happens... "James brushed a strand of hair back from the dead man's left ear. "I do recognise him. He's former MI5- went rogue seven years ago. His code-name was Peter Fowler- I never did learn who he really was."

Derek sat by his wife's body, with his eyes looking very clear. "I was visited by another old friend earlier- John Stockwell."

James bolted upright. "John was here? What did he want?"

Derek sighed. "He was after a disc I had kept safe for a long time. The details on it are... dangerous. John felt I could no longer protect it. After all, I couldn't protect my wife..." Tears crept down Derek's face.

James sat down beside Derek. "Mate, I know what you've just been through is unbelievably rough, but I need you to tell me what was on that disc."

Derek faced James. "I'll start from the beginning, but you're not going to believe me..."



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