((Really long post, might get a little messy. I don't know how else to do this, though, without going really slowly.))
((Edit: Never mind. I actually am gonna split these into two posts (this post, and another after your next post). They'll both be long though...))
”You must stay within a thirty-mile radius of the court.”
Calvin sighed as he looked at the motel with disgust. It was a place rats came to feed and only prostitutes and low-lifes came to stay. The filthy, battered– but still legible– sign out front was clearly labeled "Brenton Motel", named after the street it was placed on. It was two stories tall, with rooms on each floor, and the building went in a "U" shape to wrap around a pool in the back. The pool was a sickly green color, and the water was starting to become a gelatinous substance instead of a liquid, while a black wired fence went around the perimeter of the pool area. Nobody even went close to that thing, not even the rats. The rooms were in a state of despair; the tacky floral wallpaper was peeling, the white carpets were gray and the white ceilings were yellow. A person was lucky to have a bed not infested with fleas, lice, or bedbugs, or even clean sheets. The small bathroom that came with each room was in bad shape as well, with the pipes constantly backed up, the toilets looking as if they hadn't been cleaned in years, and a bathtub with the same kind of grime.
There was nothing Calvin could do. It was the only place he could afford at the moment with most of his accounts still frozen. And it was the only place within the thirty-mile radius rule he had to consent to. He wasn’t allowed to leave the boundaries, they would know right away by the small computer chip that he had gotten planted in the back of his neck as a part of his parole agreement. It could only be removed after exactly one year, the date his parole was up. He was stuck within the city of New York with no way out and no good place to stay until his accounts were given back to him. He figured that wouldn’t happen until after he was off parole and the police realize there was no evidence they could use against him to put him back in jail.
”There will be no technology that can access the internet in your household or in your possession at any time.”
Calvin had only one box to move into the motel. It was just a cardboard box with a few possessions they were willing to let him have back from his house that had been liquidated while he was in prison, due to his lack of house payments. Among those possessions was a small wad of money, which he had used to go out and buy himself a few books on the latest changes in technology and programming languages. They said he couldn’t have technology– they didn’t say anything about reading about the new technology. He had been in prison for three years; he had to catch up somehow.
He walked into the building and sat the box next to the grimy bed and looked around the place. If only he had the money, he could easily get the place at least looking better and be in livable conditions. He already had to find himself a job and keep budgeting the money was allowed to access to get food and other necessities.
”You will report to me every Friday at five o’clock and you will be subjected to random house visits that will require you to be tested for drugs and alcohol.”
Calvin didn’t even use the stuff. He hated alcohol and he didn’t have any interest in drugs. He worked only with technology, and now he wasn’t even allowed that. He would have to find a job as a waiter or a busboy since his college degrees were all technology-based.
He was a young man, in his late twenties now, and he was only five foot five inches and a rather skinny guy. He had messy, sandy blonde hair that was long enough to go into his eyes and sometimes irritate him a lot, but he never really thought about taking the time to get a haircut until it was too long for him to handle. His eyes were a deep blue, and usually the showed no emotion, but when it came to computers and programming they had a bright shine in them. He was a very intelligent man, but he made his business in different ways than what was considered to be moral or legal.
Calvin just grabbed one of the thick programming books and sat down on the bed to read for a while, until he figured out what he was going to do.
Just then, the telephone on the night table beside Calvin rang. "H-Hello?" Calvin answered. Who could possibly be calling him?
"Calvin Martin?" A woman’s voice said. It was a familiar voice. It was…
"Agent Eva Martinez?" Calvin said. "Agent Martinez, the agent who caught me and—"
"About that," Eva said. "The FBI is willing to make a deal with you."
"There’s a new hacker causing trouble," Eva said, fingering her earpiece. "A hacker even more difficult to catch than you were."
"And?" Calvin asked.
"And," Eva said, "we need your help to catch him."
"And... the deal?" Calvin asked.
"You help us catch the new hacker, we set you free. Kind of. Not totally free, but freer than you are now. You’re still forbidden from using the internet and whatnot."
"Hm… But I can be a regular person in society then?"
"Well, seeing as how to most of society the internet is pretty big," Eva said, "not ‘regular.’ But, other than that, yes."
"Okay," Calvin said. "I guess I’ll do it. Beats staying in this disgusting hotel."
"Great," Eva said. "I'll be there to pick you up in a few."
"I'll be waiting," Calvin said, smiling, and hung up.
Eva put her helmet on and mounted her motorcycle. The helmet’s visor immediately lit up and a holographic interface appeared.
"GPS," Eva said, "Brenton Motel." The interface rearranged itself to display a small GPS in the bottom left corner, just big enough for Eva to understand perfectly, while the rest of the screen cleared up for Eva to keep her eyes on the road.
Soon, Eva arrived at the hotel. She put her motorcycle key in her pocket and stepped off the bike, removing her helmet.
Immediately, the hotel’s various stenches filled Eva’s nostrils and she gagged, but she set her helmet on her motorcycle seat and continued onwards to the hotel anyways.
"Calvin Martin," Eva said to the concierge, flashing her FBI badge. "What room is he in?" The concierge lead Eva up to Calvin’s room, swiping his card in the door. Eva nodded in thanks and pushed the door open.
"Agent Martinez!" Calvin exclaimed, immediately leaping up from his bed and throwing a backpack over his shoulder. "Fantastic!" He said with a cheesy, overly happy smile and tone, then his voice went monotone to add, "Now get me out of here."
"In a minute," Eva said. "I rode my motorcycle here; no room for you. Some cars are coming for you."
“Some cars? I’m a hacker, not a mass murderer. What do you think I’m going to do?”
"I know you can't do anything," Eva laughed sarcastically. "Security measures or something. But let's wait outside. This place is disgusting."
Calvin nodded and followed Eva outside. Soon, two black cars arrived. A man got out of one of the cars and took Calvin’s bag, handcuffed him, and opened the back door for him.
"All right," Eva said. "I’ll meet you guys at the office in a few minutes." She got on her motorcycle and zoomed away.
((There we go... And I'm gonna add "Eva" to my other posts now. When I started writing this as a book, chapters alternated between Eva's and Calvin's points of view. If you and I put this into book format, it could go between Eva, Calvin, Danny, and Andy heheh. Or if I made this into a cartoon, scenes could switch between the characters.
Oh yeah, that reminds me, I haven't asked-- Would you be all right with me using what you write and making this project into a cartoon at some point in the future?
Okay, enough OOC now. Wrote a lot more here than I expected...))