“Bjorn! Wake up! Today is the day we become rich and free!” He grinned, his Slavic accent dominating the room.

“Sorry?” Bjorn replied, slowly getting out of bed. “What do you mean ‘free’? You always say we’ll be rich but never free? What changed?” Bjorn, threw on a shirt which sat crumpled up by the end of his bed.

“Everything! I have a plan! I just need a little more time, then I’ll explain. Go grab some milk, I want cereal.” Vlad said, patting his friend on the back.

Bjorn nodded, stuffing his old wallet into his jeans, he walked out the front door, checking the mail; Empty as always… 

He began talking to himself;
 “People fear sending mail these days… twenty-three goddamn years and the only mail I get are bills… They’re breathing down our necks…” Bjorn kept walking, furious.

“Hey! Where’s the milk?” Vlad said, opening the fridge.

“Store got raided, least there’s some job openings now… I am so done with the government…” Bjorn sighed.

“That actually plays into my plan…” Vlad said, sitting down beside Bjorn.

“Alright, Alright… What’s your plan?” Bjorn put his head in his hands, rubbing his temple.

“Ok, so… Let’s wind the clocks back about twenty-three years, tension is rising and COVID has just hit the world harder than a nuke… The government has taken temporary measures to protect us all from COVID, very fair, acceptable. However, governments want to keep this power. So to prevent all this tension from boiling over into a war the governments became isolationists. They hold this power so dear and silence the people because they know the people might raise tension. But… I heard something… The rest of the world isn’t in isolation, they’re out there, going about their lives. We need to reveal this…” Vlad said, pausing, but as soon as Bjorn opened his mouth to respond he went on again, “The plan is, we break into the town hall, open up all radio and wifi channels, the people must know. While you’re in there, grab a large amount of money, that… That is how we get rich and free! What do you think?” Vlad grinned, awaiting his friends response.

“God, that’s a lot to take in… So, we’ve just been here, and the rest of the world is just… Fine? Lord… You know what? Yeah-uh, let’s do it… I uh- got just the right tool for this,” Bjorn said, springing to life, quickly walking to his room.

“My god man, where’d you get that?” Vlad excitedly said.

“Some cop dropped it when they were running past me, hell, I wasn’t gonna give it back…” Bjorn responded.

“Alright! I’ll drive you to the town hall! From there you can probably just find a backdoor…” Vlad was jumping with joy by this point.

The two walked out the front, locking the door, Vlad stood for a moment,

“You know you might never come back?” Vlad said, unusually solemn.

“Yes… I know, but it’s right to try,” Bjorn said, not looking towards Vlad.

“Right… Well, if it all goes wrong, I mightn’t be able to help get you out of there…” Vlad said, he wiped the sweat off his upper lip.

“Yeah… Get in the car… We gotta do this,” Bjorn said, trying not to dwell too long before his mind changes.

The drive was silent, they listened to the local government radio, by law of course. The host was an old man, ‘Mr Australia’ he called himself. He went on and on about his nationalistic ideals. Bjorn, realizing they’re close, grabs the magazine and loads it into his pistol. He stuffed it into his pants, putting on his jacket. Vlad took some very aggressive turns. Before they arrived in a repelling part of the city, the brutalist architecture itself was a form of oppression in this area. The towers loomed over the streets, light being a scarce resource; ahead of them sat a huge complex. It was protected by electrical chain link fences topped with barbed wire like an ice-cream of oppression. A concrete fortress sat, a tumour on the once beautiful world, like the government itself. The car pulled up to the guard-booth. Vlad, being a cleaner here flashed his card, the guard looked it over and nodded, 

“What about him?” The guard gestured to Bjorn.

“Oh, new employee, he’s with me. His parents died in a crash, he has no money. I’m his best mate, I have to help him out, so I got him hired here… Gotta take him to reception, he has no ID,” Vlad said, with more emotion than an angry Italian, in an attempt to connect with the guard on a more emotional level.

“Oh…” The guard said, feeling guilty that he may have stepped over an emotional line. “Well… Well, uh, head on in. Your parking slot today is…” The guard paused, looking to his computer. “3C.”

With that, the gates swung open, the two drove through, passing stone-faced guards. Vlad parked, turning off the car and looking to Bjorn,

Bjorn nodded, not feeling well enough to talk. They got out of the car and walked almost in unison to the reception, the tension building. Vlad opened the door, then holding it open for Bjorn and a few other employees. The two walked to the desk, the cold AC adding to the sterilized room. Bjorn tapped on Vlads shoulder, saying some words before walking off to the bathrooms. Bjorn after reaching the bathrooms and being out of sight slowly ripped off the vent, he placed it on the ground, crawling in. He turned around once inside, propping the vent back up before crawling down the vents. The heat was immense and in all fairness it stunk in there… Bjorn coughed, covering his mouth to mask the sound. He kept moving until he reached another vent, he sat there for a minute, looking in. The room was empty, as expected. He kicked the vent out and quickly climbed into the room. He made his way to the main computer, quickly switching it on. A screen demanded a login from him. He panicked, inputting several passwords; In response to this the computer flashed red. He then regained his composure before inputting Vlads ID into the computer. The computer flashed green before revealing a very complex set of information. Bjorn, not understanding most of it just opted for the button which read ‘Turn off all jammers’ The computers screen then turned off and immediately he heard screams from the building above. Bjorn turned heel and ran after he heard voices coming down the hallway. He ran straight for the backdoor, quickly running to the back alley after navigating through a series of complex corridors and hallways. After opening the final door he was struck with a blow from a baton, he fell to the ground, looking up to the attacker. 

“Ple-Please… I-I was forced to do it!” He saw an officer, she was flanked by two other police officers. He gasped, stuttering out a pathetic sentence. His lips quivered.

“I am Constable Crawford, serving the United people of Australia, you are convicted of treason and espionage. I sentence you to death,” The officer said, pulling out a pistol and pointing it to his forehead.

Bjorn sighed, his life flashing before his eyes. He realized he was fighting futility, he could never make the government capitulate. But he did ignite the fire. He felt like he was the… Arbiter of freedom… Just as he finished that string of thoughts the gun went off, everything went black, he lost all feeling in his body and just like that… Bjorn was gone.