Free Zero Alternative by Luca Pesaro Page A

him, but the last thing he was looking for was an office romance. Much better to spend some hard cash at the Snake, and avoid problems in the morning.

Chapter Six
    Fear
    The clicking sound was soft, nearly inaudible
.
    Normally DM would have missed it but his Wagner playlist had just ran out into silence and his drug-heightened senses tingled, raw and sharp. He strained his hearing and stared at the entrance. Another gentle scraping noise and the doorknob moved a few millimetres. He typed a combination of numbers and letters on his keyboard and the computer screens turned black, plunging his living room into semi-darkness
.
    DM stood up and crossed to the open foyer, careful not to step on any of the discarded junk that lay on the floor. He reached the door and was preparing to look into the peephole when the panel slammed open, hitting his face and sending him sprawling. The back of his head bounced on a table and he rolled to the floor in blinding pain, his brain shutting down for a few seconds
.
    When he regained consciousness a man was standing astride his body, a black ski-mask covering most of his face. The intruder was pointing a small handgun at his chest
.
    ‘
Get up, you stupid fuck
.’
The thug’s voice was curt, with a strong Australian accent
.
    DM struggled to his feet, tears of pain blurring his vision. He glanced at his computer, realising that in seconds the fail-safe he had turned on was going to burn his hard drives and flash-memory to digital ashes
. ‘
What do you want? I’ve got some money…
’
    The intruder slapped him hard, a small ring opening a cut on his cheek. DM staggered back, shocked, and half-sat, half-fell on his sofa. The man stepped closer, shoving the gun in his face
.
    ‘
You will only talk to answer questions
.’
He gestured towards the overflowing bookcase where the mathematician kept his expensive sound system and hissed
, ‘
Turn that thing on and play your classical crap. We don’t want to be overheard, especially if I have to make you scream
.’
    DM stood gingerly and crossed the room, almost stumbling onto a discarded takeaway box. His pulse was racing and his heart felt about to explode, overwhelmed. Trembling, he switched on the stereo and as the music restarted he saw the intruder drawing the heavy curtains closed. The Australian gestured for him to come nearer and made him sit at his workstation, lighting atable-lamp
.
    DM blinked
–
the stranger’s shadow projected on the wall, like a huge reptile about to bite his head off
.
    ‘
Log on to your computer
.’
    ‘
I can’t…
’
    The intruder slapped him again, twice. Hard
. ‘
Wrong answer
.’
    DM could feel himself shaking. A soft, wet feeling spread across his legs and he sobbed, tasting the blood from his split lips
.
    ‘
I… it won’t work. The hardware burnt itself out after you came in, as a security measure
.’
    The big man stared at him, unblinking
. ‘
Fine
.’
He pulled up a second chair, just in front of DM’s
.
    ‘
Really?
’
    ‘
I guess we’re just gonna have ourselves a very nice, long conversation
.’
The Australian sat down, shifted the handgun to his left and grabbed DM’s wrist with his right hand
.
    Then he snapped the mathematician’s ring finger, breaking it
.
    DM screamed, a short sharp howl of pain that was drowned by Wagner’s aggression. The intruder shoved the gun barrel down his throat and he stopped, gagging
.
    ‘
You need to learn to suffer quietly, mate, or we won’t get along very well tonight
.’

The Dancing Snake
    Walker lit a cigarette as he stood with Stephane Buvier in the short queue at the entrance of the Dancing Snake. A few bankers, a bunch of rich kids and a small stag-do. All participants at various degrees of inebriation. He wondered how drunk he looked, then checked his watch. It was well past ten – DM should be on the way, or inside already. Steph nudged him and Walker noticed that the nightclub bouncer was pointing at him. He recognised the