Author's Note: The following is a set-up chapter for Chapter Five. I took a few liberties on the FBI (I just glanced at a page of FBI ranks) and the emergency G8 meeting (well, it's in the near future). Also I don't really know how viruses work.
In short, I didn't really do my research, like a certain "West Coast of Brazil" author. Sorry.
Now, Chapter Four!
"I am sending you the list of the thirty criminals found dead to you," R said from the screen showing the gothic-style capital R, "But I think you won't see much use of it,"
"Believe me, the order and location of deaths is important," the Third L responded back, "He deducted the First Kira's location from his first victim."
The list of victims was printed out and he took it. Analyzing it, he suggested himself in a more comfortable position, with one knee on his chest, and the other handing off the chair. The floor was covered with dice and spilled Tarot cards. The bleeping of monitors provided most of the sound in the open room.
After just a minute, the Third L stated his conclusion, "He is in Chicago."
"That's not surprising," R said from the monitor, "Should I hook you up with G8 once they meet?"
"Please do," Near responded, reaching for a dice tower on the floor, "I need the assistance of the police agencies all over the world to order to catch this new Kira. Because this time, he might not make the same mistakes than the original Kira,"
The next morning, Justin was at the computer, looking for the criminals that he didn't kill. It was only 5:00 and the sun was rising. He only slept a few hours so he was struggling a little bit to stay awake.
"Darrel Macintosh, serial vandal. His trial had gone on for three years. I should write his name down."
Justin took a pencil to write the name down, but he thought, "Wait, the rules said I could write down the details of a person's death. That means I could adjust the time of death. Hmm…"
Instead of plainly writing the name down, he wrote the following:
Darrel Macintosh, heart attack.
Dies at 12:00 PM
"There. I can use the Death Note to set up alibis. That way, I won't be suspected.
"Wait, why don't I feel guilty? I killed thirty people yesterday, and I didn't leave a trace. Did Kira leave traces, because he felt guilty?
"It can't be. He spent seven years delivering justice to thousands of people. Tens of thousands, even, and I bet he didn't feel a thing. Because he thought his actions were just.
"But are they just? Are they? Does one person get to have the power to decide who lives and who dies?
I will see if the Death Note is just."
A half hour later, Justin was at the breakfast table. He was eating a single piece of ham and toast. His mom looked concern at the sudden lack of appetite, but she pasted it off as normal teen behavior. Kate was entering the room, heading towards the newspaper next to Justin.
"Uncle David will be in New York tomorrow," Justin's mom said as she let Kate snatch the newspaper, "Is there anything you want in New York?"
"I don't know," Justin responded as he took the front page, "Maybe something sweet," Justin knew that Uncle David was going to send him yogurt or something, "Wow! They're saying the Kira might be back,"
"I know," Kate responded as she read the comics, "After all these years. Of course, it might be a government conspiracy…"
"I doubt it. All thirty of the criminals all died from a heart attack. The government can't do that. And some of the victims were outside the United States,"
"Good point, Justin," Kate began to munch on a jelly-coated toast, "Who do you think will die today?"
"More criminals," Justin brought his plate to the sink,
"That reminds me. I should write in a few more names,"
David Peterson was at O'Hare, waiting for his flight. He was in a formal work suit, and he had a single brown briefcase on him. He was sitting in the terminal, waiting for his flight to New York.
The cell phone in his suitcase rang, and David dug it out. The phone showed it was a restricted call. "Wait, but I'm not the Special Agent in Charge," He pressed the call button and said, "Peterson here."
"This is O," a scrambled voice with a slight European accent said from the cell phone, "Is this the Assistant Director?"
David was surprised, "O? Who is O?" "Yes, I am the Assistant Director. May I ask who you are?"
"I am a classified agent. I'll like you to hook me up with the Director of the FBI."
"State your identification number,"
O stated the ten digit number, "Now, may you redirect my call to the Director,"
"Uh, sure. Please hold for a moment," the Assistant Director proceeded to dial the Director's number, "Who is O?" he wondered,
"And what does he want?"
During study hall, Justin asked for a pass.
"Where are you going, Peterson?" the teacher, Mr. Flats asked.
"To the computer lab. I need to do some research there."
Without question, Mr. Flats wrote up a pass and gave it to Justin. He then walked out of the room, and headed towards the computer lab.
"I hope this will not take too long,"
At the computer lab, he went through the door and saw Jacob Bailey at one of the computers. He was a studious but rebellious student with dirty-blond hair and glasses. He was a senior that was an expert on programming.
Justin walked up to Jacob and asked, "Hello. I want you to do me a favor."
Jacob looked up and asked, "Why should I? You are a junior."
"It'll be fun, with your hacking skills," Jacob had been suspended more than once for hacking into the school system and even the mayor's office. As a part-time job, he worked as a white-hat hacker, testing out the systems.
"Say it. I don't have time."
"My uncle is an Assistant Director for the FBI. I want you to plant a virus into his laptop,"
"What?" Jacob said, "Why?"
"He is going to the G8 emergency meeting in New York, probably the day after tomorrow," Justin responded, taking a seat next to him, "I'll want to access the recording of the meeting, and hacking my uncle's laptop is the best way to find the security system's server. Can you design that virus?"
"I don't know," Jacob continued to type some code on the computer, "Well, I have another similar virus, but I knew the location of my target. I can design a bot to find the security system's address, and then have it send the virus. But you are asking me to hack a high-security system that might trace the virus back to your uncle's laptop.
"But I could plant the virus so it uses the laptop's camera to film the meeting. How about that?"
Justin nodded, "What can I do to repay you,"
"You could do my history homework,"
"Done, I'll tell you his IP address."
Mr. William's, the FBI director, was in Washington DC when he received a restricted call. He answered the phone, "Mr. William's here."
"Somebody named O wants to talk to you,"
Mr. Williams was surprised, "Let him through,"
After a few seconds, the scrambled voice came out of the phone, "This is O. I like to make a deal with you…"
More Author's Notes: Who is O? Why did he want to talk to the FBI director? Well, O's another one of my orignal characters.
Oh, and R. Guess who he is. You'll know if you read the manga.
Next time, the G8 Summit. Get ready for drama.
And spread the word about this story, please.