To Be an Honest Man: Dedizione All'Amore: Chapter 4 – Half-Satisfied

Chapter 4 – Half-Satisfied

“Do you think those bastards will do what he said?” James asks me in the hotel room where all the members of the family are.

“I think he will,” I say.

“What makes you think that?”

“He was impressed with my display of strength and bold insistence.”

“I was impressed you did it as well, but that doesn’t mean that other scumbags will listen to him. We need to make sure the rest of them follow suit, know it was us who did it, and know what will happen to those who try to corrupt the United States. My contacts are telling me the Lupa army itself is involved in this. Where else do you think they get their guns from?”

“What about Adler? You want us to go after them, too?”

“No. The homeland of our ancestors will be the example for the rest of them. We’ll give them a thrashing they’ll never forget.”

“What about what happened with the bosses that I talked to?”

“If they’re smart, they’ll stay out of this. From what my contacts told me, those men in the villa used to be men of honor until they sold out to Lupa’s dictator, this Il Luce. You want to secure our country’s, our family’s, your family’s security, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’ll follow me and do as I say, unless you think I’m wrong. You’re the strategist like Russell, Angelo, and Vito. Tell me if there’s anything wrong with what I’m suggesting.”

“There isn’t.”

“Let’s get this done then and show those two stuck-up empires what real strength looks like from real Mediterranean men.”

For the next few days, Cesare, Marin, Okazaki, and I help James, our family members, and members of the anti-Vorfahren resistance sabotage the Lupa propaganda production facilities, their army’s supply depots, and end up threatening the leaders here at gunpoint if they choose to retaliate. When we think we’ve done enough damage, we prepare to go back home, only for a group of soldiers to attack the town where we were staying.

“Do we really think that their word meant anything?” I ask.

“You’d think so after everything of theirs that we destroyed, but it definitely was a possibility that they’d go back on their word,” James says.

“We can’t leave yet.”

“Why not? These people can take care of themselves, especially after they armed themselves with weapons we gave them from the army.”

“Because we started this problem for them, we have to solve it. Besides, if we get the army a thrashing they’ll never forget, it’ll disincentivize them in retaliating, right?”

“…You’re right.”

“Let’s get this done then and show these people what real men of honor look like.”

“Here I thought I was the boss and outranked you.”

We help the townspeople hurry to set up defenses and traps for the incoming army. Cesare and I, with the townspeople, hide up in the hills, and as soon as the enemy passes, we trigger the explosives, killing many and scaring the rest. After finishing them off, another wave of soldiers, aided by tanks, advances on us, forcing us back as we fire back at them with machine guns and rocket launchers. Further down the hill, Okazaki and Marin take potshots at advancing soldiers and activate explosives from their side to take out the damaged tanks. Still, more soldiers come at us, forcing us to take up defensive positions in the town.

Just as the soldiers push against our defensive line, men on horses arrive from behind the soldiers, firing at them and yelling at them to surrender. I recognize a few of them as the bosses at the villa I was at a few days ago.

“Surrender or face your maker!” one of the bosses says in Mediterranean, as the fighting dies down. “Those men and women from the United Chimaera States are real men of honor, unlike us, who easily gave in to the demands of our country’s new leader. What happened to the virtuous, rebellious spirit that this island is known for?  In our island’s history, we never let anyone rule over us that we didn’t allow, so why should we so easily give in now? When have numbers and the perceived strength of our enemy gotten us to back down from a fight?”

“Never!” the crowds of townspeople say.

“Then I say, we fight for our independence until our dying breath. If you wish to flee, then flee, but if you wish to fight against us, you’ll only be met with the overwhelming determination and ferocity of the people of Trinacria.”

The crowd loudly cheers, and the soldiers either cheer with them or lay down their arms. Going up to the bosses, they recognize and thank us for reigniting their fighting spirit.

“I know for a fact that you were the one who chose to stay and defend the townspeople rather than easily retreat to your country,” one of the bosses says while pointing at me.

“That’s true. Still, it was boss James who wanted to stay to do more damage, so he should get some of the credit,” I admit.

“Ah, you brownnoser. I ought to smack you in the face for being bolder than me,” James says.

“Whatever the case, we appreciate your support. We’ll be fine here while you head back home. You’ll get no more trouble from the people of Trinacria.”

“I assume there are no hard feelings for the lives we’ve taken?” Marin asks.

“None at all. In fact, you probably should’ve shot us instead for our cowardice. Such are the old ways.”

“But it was mercy that saved us all,” I say.

“All too true,” the boss says as he crosses himself.

We say our goodbyes to the people of the Trinacria, get everything we have on the plane, including the many gifts they gave us, and fly back home. Russell is back from his trip across the country, and we report our success to him and everything that happened.

“Good work, boys,” Russell says.

“Huh? That’s it? Did you not hear what happened? We fought a fricken army and got them to turn on their country,” James says.

“I expected these boys and you to win. What else should I say?” Russell says as he lovingly slaps our faces. “But you’re right. You should get more than my thanks. Cesare and Vincenzo will get charge of their own men and have control of the new casinos that are being built in the city.”

“And for me?”

“For you, James? You can have whatever you want for the state your family controls. What else could you want?”

“Hmm. You’re right. Guess I shouldn’t have asked.”

Cesare, Okazaki, Marin, and I are thankful to Russell for his many gifts, and he’s thankful we never let him down. We then celebrate at Angelo’s restaurant with everyone who helped fight back against the Vorfahren, including the Israeli bosses, to whom I give the old model pistol and some of the gifts the Trinacria people gave us. Donnie Parlarono tells us that the Mediterranean Empire and the Zeitloses Imperium are backing off from our country to focus on those closest to them. As far as we know, our deal with the government is done, but the Vorfahren are still a threat. Nevertheless, the next president will be more favorable to us and should help expunge all corrupting influences in the country.

“I see a bright future ahead for all of us,” Okazaki says.

“You always see that,” Cesare jokes with a cigarette in his mouth.

“Yes, but it’s even clearer and more certain than before.”

“Whatever the case is, I’m sure our strategists have a plan for us.”

“We do,” Marin and I say. We lift our wine glasses and say, “To God, family, and country.”

Cesare and Okazaki toast, and we enjoy our celebration, each other’s company, and the promise of even better times ahead.

 

The End

To Be an Honest Man: Dedizione All'Amore: Chapter 3 – Taking it Back Home

Chapter 3 – Taking it Back Home

What we’ve done has done a lot of good in getting rid of Vorfahren influence from the city, but not so much for the wider country, and hasn’t gotten rid of the more public supporters of the Mediterranean Empire and Zeitloses Imperium. It’s not illegal to say you believe in and support the Vorfahren ideology, yet their supporters are publicly counter-protesting against the recent Mediterranean, Israeli alliance, and say that the recent purge and deportation of Vorfahren was just the authorities getting rid of bad actors of their ideology and innocent people. The old man and heads of the Israeli mafia come up to us in Angelo’s restaurant and ask if anything is being done in politics to make the Vorfahren ideology one that is classified as hateful and illegal.

He asks, “Are the brothers, Frank and John Ministro, handling things well in the political scene?”

“They’re handling it as well as can be expected. Trust me when I say it’s a harder headache for them to be dealing with it than us with all the resistance they get from the opposite political parties and their own,” Vito says.

“Heh, and they call us slimy criminals. It is what it is, as you Mediterraneans say. I’m just happy that we got to comfortably strike against our enemies.”

“Don’t get too used to it because we have plans on ending this invasion from the Vorfahren.”

Vito waves over a friend of the family who’s sitting by the bar. The well-dressed man in a blue suit, black pants, and black shoes walks over. He has a large fedora on his head like other members of the family, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was one of us. He has brown hair and brown eyes; his face is the spitting image of an average Joe. His name is Donnie Parlarono, and he’s the head of the Secret Intelligence Bureau, or SIB.

“Donnie, please explain to our new friends our plan,” Vito says.

Sitting down, Donnie says, “Since the Vorfahren we have in custody aren’t telling us about who exactly is giving them orders, we’re going to deport them and follow them back home to their nests. From there, we should be able to strike at their leadership, and then give the Vorfahren a serious reason never to step foot in our country again.”

“What about the ones who remain here?” the old Israeli man asks.

“We’ll need people to stay here and handle things, keep them under control, and make them think we aren’t following their friends back home. Can you do that for us?”

“We’re not opposed to having all the fun here. We don’t speak the native language in the Mediterranean Empire’s held territories anyway, and they’ll immediately come after us on sight.”

“Thank you.”

“Good hunting, boys. If you can, bring me back something for me to hang on my wall. I wouldn’t even mind if you gave me their heads or a finger.”

The Israeli bosses laugh and walk out of Angelo’s restaurant.

Turning to me, Donnie says, “I’m surprised they didn’t ask for anything in return for their work.”

“If they don’t ask now, they may do so later. If not, I’m sure they have ways of getting what they want,” I say.

“I have my people keeping an eye on them in that regard,” Marin adds.

“I can foresee that they may be a problem in the future, but they won’t be right now since we did them a favor they won’t forget,” Okazaki says.

“Alrighty then. Who wants to go home to the old country?” Donnie asks.

Cesare and I volunteer along with our wives.

“I’ll stay here with my people to keep who and what’s coming in under control,” Vito says.

“I’m going over. I know some people who can help us, and I still haven’t had my fill of kicking their asses. The job isn’t done yet until it is, and the Vorfahren learn their lesson,” James says.

“Alright then. Gather your bags and people. You all leave tomorrow on a flight that will follow the deportation plane to Lupa.”

For the rest of the day, I pack my bags, make sure everything is in order here with my contacts, and spend time with my family. My parents and grandparents express both concern for my safety and assurance that I’ll come back alive. We pray and eat together one last time before we leave the next day, and everyone who’s going to Lupa boards the plane with everything and everyone they have.

“When’s the last time we visited the old country?” Cesare asks.

“I think when we were teenagers. It’s been a while since we last visited,” I say.

“I remember the cathedrals that are decorated with the bones of martyrs the most. What about you ladies? What are you excited to see?”

“This isn’t a vacation, and we won’t be staying long,” Marin states.

“There still have to be things that you want to see,” Okazaki says. “If we can, I want to visit the floating city and see the many hills of the countryside.”

“Sure. We can see them if we need to go there.”

After an eleven-hour flight, we land on the island of Trinacria. There, we see that Vorfahren propaganda litter the many buildings, and even churches of the area. We don’t have much time to sightsee as we follow the Vorfahren to see where they go. Meanwhile, James and his Sovrano family members go to establish contact with their other family members here to get us help and more information about what’s going on here. To stay within our targets' sightlines, we keep a safe distance and avoid being seen by ducking into alleys and hiding in crowds.

They talk to some people near some cabs, saying in Mediterranean, “We need to talk to the bosses.”

“Do you now?” a cab driver says in the same language. “As far as I know, you were supposed to be in Chimaera, making a difference over there.”

“Things got complicated, and we got kicked out.”

“Alright, fine. They want to talk to you anyway.”

The Vorfahren get into a cab and drive away. As we scramble to get a car of our own, a car pulls up to Cesare and me and offers to drive us. We pick up our wives and resume following the Vorfahren.

“Who are you anyway, a friend of the family?” I ask.

“You could say that,” the cab driver says. “I’m not an official friend, but a friend nonetheless. I’m tired of these Vorfahren saying that they’re faithful to both God and our ancestors' roots, but they shun everyone who doesn’t think like them. I hate to say it, but our empire was better under the control of the previous republic and its leaders.”

“Is there anything that can be done to change Lupa from within?” Cesare asks.

“Not at all, unless you want to be shot, deported, or sent to a re-education prison.”

“Have you thought about moving to another country?” Okazaki asks.

“Nope. This was my ancestors’ home, so it’ll be my home until the day I die. I refuse to move just because I hate the condition it's in right now. I still love it. It can always change, maybe not in my lifetime, but empires don’t last forever.”

“Your dedication is admirable,” Marin says. “We’ll be sure to do as much for you as possible.”

“Don’t worry about me. Worry about everyone else. Oh, and try to fix your accents. You sound like Medigans.”

The cab driver drops us off a little way away from a villa that overlooks a town. As we head toward the villa, the cab driver pulls away to gain some distance so as not to look suspicious and promises to come back if he hears shooting. The four of us sneak into the villa, using our knives and silenced pistols to take out the guards, and hide their bodies to push our way further in. Inside, we follow the Vorfahren we were originally until we see them enter a room. Busting our way in, we hold them and the people we presume to be their bosses at gunpoint.

Speaking in Mediterranean, they ask, “Who are these people?! Guards!”

Okazaki and Marin speak the same language as theirs.

“We got rid of your help. No one is coming to help you,” Okazaki says.

“If you don’t want to end up like them, you’d better stop sending people over to the Chimaera states,” Marin says.

“Can you please stop trying to speak Mediterranean?” one of the bosses says in English. “You dark pigs with makeup are Medigans and don’t know how to speak our language properly.”

Cesare shoots the leg of one of the bosses, and I shoot the arm of one of the other bosses.

“You’d better respect my wife. The way she speaks is the least of your concerns,” Cesare says.

“At least you both know to do the basics of protecting your wives’ honor,” one of the bosses says. “Still, we respect our country and the Vorfahren ideology more than you. It’s the one that’s brought us back to the strength and respect that the Roman Empire once had. We continue the faith and honor of our forefathers, and by going against us, you spit on that faith and tradition.”

“What you think is the true faith and tradition of the Mediterraneans is just your view of it. You bully the Church to accept your behavior and conquer those you think are better under your rule,” I say.

“What would you know? You were born in another country that doesn’t care for heritage or tradition.”

“We didn’t come here to talk philosophy,” Marin says. “We only want you to stop sending people over to influence our country.”

“What happened to freedom of religion and belief in your country? I thought that was a cornerstone to your country’s founding,” a boss says, spitting out the words as if they were disgusting.

“We only accept the beliefs that aren’t directly hostile to anyone, and can peacefully talk to one another to get others and the country to change rather than using violence as its primary tool,” Okazaki says.

“Heh, so you’re not so different from us.”

“Don’t give us that bullshit,” Cesare spits.

“You’re not entirely aware of what’s happening on this side of the world, are you? We’ve been trying to peacefully change people’s hearts, but the corrupt scum in government don’t allow it, forcing our hand to use violence. We simply draw the line for violence in different places.”

I shoot one of the men we were following in the leg. The other one tries to charge at me, only to take a bullet in the face and fall face down in front of me.

“Give me another answer other than your agreement, and none of you will get out of this room alive. This is my line for violence,” I say.

“Heh. Even if you don’t see us as two sides of the same coin, I recognize a true man of honor when I see one. Okay. We won’t be sending our own people over to your country, but don’t complain when our civilians go to your country to evangelize for us.”

“We’ll handle it when that happens.”

“God bless you, boy. Your country would be better under your leadership.”

I turn around and leave the room, ignoring what the boss said. While we are leaving, I take an old model pistol off the wall for the old Israeli boss, head out back to the cab driver, and go back to the hotel, where we’re supposed to meet James and his family members when they’re done on their end.

To Be an Honest Man: Dedizione All'Amore: Chapter 2 – Unwanted Guests

Chapter 2 – Unwanted Guests

Cesare and I meet with Vito D’Accordo, one of the five primary dons of our family, who lives in a simple house much like Russell and Angelo. Next door to his house is his lucrative olive oil business, deli, and sandwich restaurant that sells meals personally passed down from his family. He welcomes my brother and me into his house and offers us something to eat.

“Thank you, but after what we found out, I don’t think I’ll eat anything until breakfast tomorrow morning,” Cesare says.

“It must be important for you to be here so late in the day. Tell me. What did you find out?” Vito says as we sit in his office that has dimmed and shuttered windows.

“The foreigners are using the Church and homes for the poor as shelters for themselves, to have meetings, and to produce their propaganda,” I explain.

“Of all the places to hide, they choose to hide behind the poor and needy. It should’ve been obvious since manipulating the poor and middle class is how they obtained power in their own countries, but I guess we were being too charitable to think that they wouldn’t stoop so low.”

“I ought to shoot every priest, nun, and charity worker who’s been letting this happen under our noses,” Cesare says.

“Those who feign being virtuous indeed deserve worse fates than obvious villains, but we can’t be too hasty in sending them to Hell. Where are your wives?”

“They’re questioning Bishop Rodrigo, our contact in the Church, to see if he’s aware of what’s going on,” I say.

“Good. For my part, I’ll have my people at the airports and docks redouble their efforts, especially searching the ships and planes that have the refugees from countries under the control of the Mediterranean Empire and Zeitloses Imperium. Security and vetting will be improved overnight. You have my word.”

“Thank you.”

“Is there something else you wanted to discuss? I can see it on your face, Vincenzo. You’re a man whose always looking to thoroughly deal with a problem so that it doesn’t become a problem in the future.”

“This is a long shot, but is there a way you can help us find a way to prevent the Vorfahren from coming over to this country? If we don’t, we’ll be perpetually in a cold war against them as they keep sending people loyal to their heinous ideology over here or trying to corrupt our own people.”

“I can pull some strings to see what I can find, though it won’t be a permanent solution. I hear that our deal with the government could provide that.”

“Yeah, and having a president on our side could also start another Great War.”

“If there needs to be another war so soon, then let there be war. It’s only a good and necessary thing when all other options are exhausted, and at this rate, with how the Vorfahren keep pushing their way into other countries, it looks to be the best choice. Knowing the current government, they might just send us overseas to deal with the problem ourselves.”

“That’s not really a bad thing if we have the right resources.”

“You’re right. We could probably even handle it better. Anyways, I appreciate the news and advice, Campione brothers. Do God’s work as always.”

“We will,” my brother and I say.

Cesare and I leave Vito’s house and head back home. There, our parents and wives are already waiting for us with dinner on the table, despite the late hour. We eat together and talk about routine, normal things like politics, upcoming birthdays, neighborhood events, drama with family, and the like. After we say good night and head into our separate rooms, I talk to Marin about what she learned. It turns out that the good bishop is a good bishop and had no idea that the people under him were hiding and helping the Vorfahren and profiting off them.

“Bishop Rodrigo will help us expunge the wolves from the sheep in due time. He’s already in the process of doing so right now and won’t get an ounce of sleep tonight,” Marin says further as she lies down next to me.

“I’m sure Vito will do much of the same. Even though it isn’t his fault so many of our enemies slipped under his nose, he takes personal responsibility for this failure and won’t rest until the problem is rectified,” I say.

“What about our problem?”

“We have a problem? Oh, the kids. As I said, we’ll have kids once this problem with the Vorfahren is under control.”

“Okazaki and Cesare aren’t letting that stop them. They already had a baby boy, and I hear that Okazaki is trying to get pregnant again.”

“Poor Cesare.”

“You should be more concerned about poor you. What about poor me?”

I look at Marin, consider it, and give her what she’s asking for. The next morning, Okazaki and Cesare ask what took us so long, and I ask, “What happened to privacy between a husband and wife?”

“Oh, we didn’t see much. We shut the door after making sure what we heard was actually happening. Forgive us,” Okazaki says with a sly smile.

“How many are you planning on having?” Cesare asks.

“Let’s start with one and go from there,” I say. Marin’s face gives off a mad in the morning sort of vibe, so I assume I said the wrong thing. “Two, three, or four, maybe. I don’t know.”

Looking back at Marin, she seems satisfied with my answer. Thank God. Of course, my parents are the most glad that Marin and I decided to finally start having kids, and they hit me upside the head for waiting months to do so. After breakfast, the four of us go out to do our daily jobs. My brother and I go to the car mechanic shop, and our wives go to work at the office of the archdiocese. We need a legitimate job to make ends meet, support our family, and support the family after all.

Our coworkers at the mechanic’s shop and the neighbors we pass by ask us if we’re handling the Vorfahren threat, and we say that we are, while leaving out the fact that the problem isn’t wholly contained, so as not to disappoint them. While at work, Cesare isn’t as chatty as he usually is with his coworkers. His mind is probably on the Vorfahren just as much as my mind is. We don’t have to wait long to hear back from our contacts, as one of Vito’s men comes to us after work to tell us that he, the chief of police, Umberto Destro, Bishop Rodrigo, and James Sovrano, are meeting with us in the basement of our parish church. We immediately head to the basement to see James already in a pious rage.

“Who the hell do these people think they are? The new Holy Roman Empire, or something?” James asks.

“Yes, they actually do,” Bishop Rodrigo says matter-of-factly.

“It was a rhetorical question, bishop. I ought to kick their asses all the way back to the world myself for bringing their shit here. Excuse my language.”

“Let’s get this meeting started so you won’t have to wait long to kick their asses,” Marin says as we sit at the round meeting table.

We are served bread and charcuterie boards of various kinds of lunchmeat on them from Vito’s deli and wine from James Sovrano’s vineyards across the river in his Garden State.

“I want it to be on our private record that I had no clue what the poor houses were doing. All of my most loyal contacts were caught unaware as well,” Bishop Rodrigo says.

“Yes, yes, bishop, we know. I’m sure it doesn’t hurt that your charities got nice paychecks from the Vatican and the government for all the people you were caring for,” James points out.

“James. Please,” Umberto says. “Let’s get down to business.”

“Fine. You want business? I got business for the Vorfahren. My people and I are ready to raid every poor house in this city and my state, and give them all the business end of our guns, hot lead all for the low cost of their lives.”

“As much as it would save my side of things paperwork and the trouble of processing them as prisoners, the country and theirs won’t deal well with the deaths of so many people, even if we classify them as subversives.”

“What do you suggest that we do then, chief?”

“Smoke them out like we are right now. Just tell me where you all are going, and we’ll coordinate our forces to take them all down at once.”

“Bishop?”

“I have to agree with Chief Umberto. It would be the most moral solution. Let them prove themselves to be criminals so that they can be arrested and deported.”

“Vito?”

“I can’t disagree with the bishop in most cases, and this is one of them.”

“Come on, there has to be some kind of compromise between us.”

“I’m more on James’ side,” Cesare says.

“I am as well,” Okazaki says. “We can deal with the rubble in the shadows, and the cops can come to clean up the mess and chalk it up to being two groups of criminals fighting one another.”

“There we go! I knew I could count on you two.”

“Then the cops will have to crack down on the criminals, even if they are helping the government,” I say.

“With the way things are now, the Vorfahren only know that groups of vigilantes and concerned citizens are fighting against them with aid from the cops. We need them to keep thinking that way so that they think that any retaliatory strikes mean war between their empires and our country,” Marin adds. “If they think that a singular group of criminals is after them, then they won’t hesitate to fight back.”

“What if they had to fight more than one gang?” I ask.

“What are you going to suggest?” Umberto asks.

“There’s the Israeli mafia. The Vorfahren, especially those from Adler, have an issue with the Israelis since they control many of the banks in Adler and were the reason many were in inescapable debt. Since both groups already hate each other, it shouldn’t be too hard to convince the Israelis to help us.”

“You want those people helping us? I don’t hate them as the Vorfahren do, but I don’t exactly trust those Christ killers either,” Cesare says.

“We don’t need to trust them with anything other than what we already know they want to do. All we need to give them is the assurance that the cops will look the other way while they clean up the trash. If this gets public, all it’ll look like is the Israelis defending themselves against a foreign threat. We may even gain traction in our cause against the same threat as well.”

“Okay,” Umberto says as he digs in his pocket and gives me his badge. “Okay, Vincenzo. Take my badge if they don’t believe you. That’s a really good idea. The Israelis have been doing everything to get at the Vorfahren and trying to force authorities to do more to get them out of the country, so this should satisfy them and get them off our backs. You can’t promise them that they’ll get anything out of this other than the chance to hit back at the people who hate them, alright?”

“Yes, sir. Bishop? Any disagreements?”

“Self-defense isn’t a sin, so I don’t,” Bishop Rodrigo says.

“Then it’s settled,” James says.

“Wait for Vincenzo and Cesare to get back to us about the Israeli mafia’s cooperation first before we say it’s settled,” Vito says. “Sit and enjoy yourselves. I have my own business with you, I want to discuss.”

Marin and Okazaki stay in the parish basement with the big bosses while Cesare and I go out to arrange a meeting with the Israeli mafia. It doesn’t take long to find someone who’s connected to them in the Israeli part of the city, since they come to us first and bring us to the basement of an office building. Inside the basement, people are already here in expensive suits with guns, maps, and cash on various tables, as if this were a military command center.

“Take a seat, Campione brothers,” the oldest man says. “I have a feeling that we’re both about to bring up a subject we’re both interested in, but I want to hear you speak about it.”

“Sir, would you like to help us get rid of a common foe? You’ll have the backing of the government so that you don’t need to worry too much about getting away with it,” I say.

“So, it is true that the government is backing your family in getting rid of the Vorfahren from the city. We saw it happen, but didn’t know if you were getting away with it because you had those certain cops on your side or had the wider government on your side. Now, why would they need our help? Why should we give it? The government is being infiltrated by the Vorfahren, and they haven’t been doing a good job of protecting my people from them here or on the other side of the world.”

“Like I said. It’s to fight a common enemy. If you don’t believe me, take a look at this.”

I calmly take Umberto’s badge out so none of the people in the room think I’m pulling out a gun, and put the badge on the table.

“I believe you. What I have a hard time believing is why we should work together. People say we worship the same God, but we don’t. The Israeli Church doesn’t worship the man our ancestors helped crucify that you Catholics of the Patiens Ecclesia worship. Also, the Vatican and many in your Church are in the pocket of or sympathetic to the Vorfahren cause, so as far as I know, we may have a common enemy, but no common reason to work together because we don’t know if you’ll stab us in the back afterward.”

Cesare looks a little concerned at me, but I keep my composure.

“We don’t need to worship the same God to work together. That’s what being part of the United Chimaera State is about. We work for the common good of us all. As for the Vatican and the Church, every Catholic is instructed to do as instructed, but not to do as they do. I’m sure you’ve heard of the sudden death of the new pope, right? The same one who was said to be working with the Vorfahren?”

The old man’s eyes narrow.

“You people wouldn’t dare.”

“Why wouldn’t we? We still have friends and family in our home country of Lupa. Why can’t it be possible?” The old man smiles, and the rest of the men in the room either laugh or start whispering to one another. “Remember the arrests the police made at the Catholic poor home? Ask any of your contacts in law enforcement, and they’ll tell you we helped get the Vorfahren arrested.”

“Ah, you didn’t need to convince me further past your first point. You’re wise for your age. I’m sure you’re going to go to big places when you get older. You have our help.”

My brother and I thank the Israeli mafia and lead them back to our parish basement to get our plans together. While both leaders are coordinating which targets they’re picking and what time they’ll be acting, and everyone else is eating, Cesare pulls me aside where no one will hear us.

“Is what you said about the pope true? Were you told something I wasn’t?” Cesare asks.

“I don’t know. It’s a rumor I heard. It could be true, it could also not be,” I say.

Cesare laughs and says, “Are you still thinking about going into politics?”

“Possibly.”

“Well, I think you have a good chance at getting in if you keep talking like that to people.”

After the plans are finalized, the cops, our family, and the Israeli mafia strike the Vorfahren hideouts in the night. Most of the purging that’s done is quiet, and what doesn’t happen quietly is spoken on the news as the Israeli people fighting against their bullies.

One Israeli interviewed on the news says on TV, “They want to come here to take over our country and kill us and everyone else whom they hate! Why shouldn’t we fight back?”

The same thing is said by the Mediterranean people in our neighborhood, saying that just because they are the same race as one of the major empires doesn’t mean that they share the same way of thinking. Together, the Mediterranean people and Israelis let their hatred of the Vorfahren ideology be known and protest against it the same day and the next, just as we plan. The bosses of our family and the Israeli mafia watch it, celebrating together, sharing each other’s food, and talking with one another as if we’re all estranged family members making up for lost time. It’s nice to see, but it’s not the end. Not even close. This city may be secure, but others aren’t, and there’s much work that’s left to be done. I tell Cesare and Okazaki this when they tell me that I look worried.

I smile and say, “Don’t worry. I have a plan.”

“We both do,” Marin adds, smiling at me, knowing what the plan is.

To Be an Honest Man: Dedizione All'Amore: Chapter 1 – A Foreign Threat

Chapter 1 – A Foreign Threat

The two explosive lovers, my brother and his wife, head into the warehouse at the docks guns blazing and run out like two kids who kicked a hornet’s nest and are trying not to get stung, except the hornets are firing foreign silenced pistols and rifles at them. Coming to their aid, my wife and I surround the foreigners with gunfire of our own, and are then aided by members of the family who bring the real heavy firepower. When the smoke settles, we go in and make sure none of the foreigners kill themselves with their guns or cyanide pills in their mouths. I make sure one of the foreigners can’t kill himself, and then start questioning him in our shared language.

He looks disgusted at me, spits in my face, and says in English, “You speak Mediterranean like a true Medigan, you’re dog shit and a disgrace to the old country of Lupa.”

“The Mediterranean Empire shouldn’t be in the United Chimaera States. You should keep your trashy ideology to yourself and the old world,” I say.

“Why should we? We improve everywhere we conquer. We have all the territory the Roman Empire once had, and what we don’t have is being conquered by our allies in the Zeitloses Imperium. What do you have in comparison? Nothing. If your authorities need criminals like you to watch them, then they’re pathetic, and you are as well. Your wife looks like a tanned pig with all that jewelry, makeup, and tacky clothes-”

I punch the foreign man in the face to shut him up and knock him out.

“You didn’t have to do that, Vincenzo. I wasn’t insulted by what he said,” Marin says.

“I don’t care. No one insults my wife. Besides, the cops will question him next.”

“We could’ve questioned him. You know I have a way of making people tell me what I want to know.”

“You’ll have to save that for me for later.”

“Uuu. Let’s not wait too long, then, and get out of here.”

Marin and I walk over to check on my brother, Cesare Campione, and his wife, Okazaki Mistico, or rather, Okazaki Campione now, both of whom are talking and laughing like kids who got off an exciting ride.

“We got’em good, didn’t we? I love it when a plan goes exactly as planned!” my brother, Cesare, says.

“I told you Providence was on our side, didn’t I, honey?” Okazaki asks.

“That you did.”

“Hey, you two. Are you both okay?” I ask.

“We’re great, Vincenzo. Are we good to head out?”

Just as Cesare finished speaking, the cops head up to where we are and start arresting the foreigners and putting them in their trucks. Heading over to the police sergeant, we acknowledge each other and head our separate ways as if we were just coworkers exchanging shifts. Cesare and I take our wives to Angelo Delicato’s restaurant to celebrate with the other members of our family.

Angelo comes to congratulate us for doing our duty for our country, and I ask him, “You can get on in this deal we have with the government if you want. We can use all the help we can get.”

“I’ll let you know if I hear of any foreigners causing trouble in the neighborhood, but that’s all I’ll do for you,” Angelo says. He’s dressed as slick as always and looks like the spitting image of an aged Mediterranean man of honor who never has a wrinkle on his shirt or hair out of place. “You know how I like to do business, quiet, simple, and in the neighborhood.”

“Where’s Russell? I haven’t seen the old mechanic in a while,” Cesare says.

“Russell is doing business with the new families in the country. He’s gotta make sure they’ll do as we request if they want to be a part of our family.”

“Is he accompanied by anyone from the family?”

“Some people and his trusted bodyguard, some Great War veteran named Frank. Frank will keep Russell safe and do the dirty work for him. They’re like father and son, those two, despite the difference in race.”

“The king has to make sure his governors are doing their jobs correctly,” Marin says. “The new man who took over Amoroso Puramente’s territory and businesses, James Sovrano, is doing well.”

“I’m sure you’re keeping a close eye on him, Mrs. Campione.”

“Yes, Mr. Delicato. He wants to make sure that he’s a true man of honor, unlike the previous traitorous leader. At least that’s what I heard from the people under him.”

“Keep up the good intelligence gathering on him and the others, and please, make sure your husband and brother-in-law don’t get into any more serious trouble than they’re already getting into.”

“Yes, Mr. Delicato.”

Angelo turns to Okazaki, “Mrs. Campione.”

“Yes, Angelo. I’ll make sure the boys are on the path laid out for us,” Okazaki says.

Angelo kisses Marin’s hand and Okazaki’s hand and walks away. While Okazaki and Cesare eat, drink, and celebrate, Marin and I talk about what we should do next.

“The government expects us to make sure that the infiltrators from the Mediterranean Empire and Zeitloses Imperium don’t infiltrate our country with their heinous ideology of Von Menscehn und Vorfahren or just Vorfahren as it’s commonly called. Once we do it, they’ll be more favorable to us, even help us get a president into office who will be on our side,” I remind Marin and myself. “They don’t care if the problem completely goes away as long as it doesn’t bother them in our country, but I care. Over in the old world, those two empires are turning it upside down, killing and jailing people from different races and beliefs, both political and religious, and taking land that they think is rightfully theirs because the past empires had it.”

“I know where you’re going with this. They’re coming over here and trying to spread their belief here to conquer the United Chimaera States as well,” Marin says.

“They won’t. I’ve foreseen while meditating in the adoration chapel. It’ll be us who will stop their reign of terror,” Okazaki says.

“Yeah, we’ll make sure those Vorfahren bastards won’t mess with us or ours. Tell me more about what you saw,” Cesare says.

As Okazaki explains her visions and connects them to the present circumstances, Cesare looks enamored at her as if under her spell. I swear he’s been different ever since they first met. It’s as if Okazaki knows how to bring something out of him that no one else can. When we first met up with Okazaki and Marin, they were known as and still known as the Gatta Sorella, the Cat Sisters. Okazaki was the one who arranged the meeting and said to Marin that we were the men that they were meant to marry, and after a series of dates, we got married.

Okazaki has always been the spiritual one, loving to talk about visions and dreams, to pray and adore, and to be gun-ho about doing what needs to be done, as she believes is the voice of God, the saints, and her guardian angel. She always wears a golden cross necklace, a golden St. Benedict medal choker, and a golden miraculous medal necklace, along with pink clothes and makeup. She’s Cesare’s bella nera, and to balance out her wild visions is my wife, Marin. She was once Marin Carena, the planner of the two. Just like me, Marin likes to plan things out, get all the details, and then act either diplomatically or use violence as a last resort.

Okazaki and Marin were known as the Gatta Sorella since they did much good work for the family on their side of the city, rooting out traitors and men and women who worked only for themselves rather than for the whole family. Just like Okazaki, Marin wears golden jewelry, except Marin wears four golden bracelets on her right arm that have Scripture verses on them and three other golden bracelets on her left arm that have wise words from the saints. Marin wears purple clothes and makeup rather than pink, and both girls are influenced by an Eastern fashion style called gyaru. Sometimes the two will work for the Church with our primary contact, Bishop Rodrigo Dovuto, to help clean out any of the false faithful who are trying to destroy the Holy Church from within.

“Vincenzo,” Okazaki says as she turns to me. “I can tell you’re letting the stress of the situation get to you. It’s making your mind retreat into old memories of comfort so that it can relax.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t let the stress get to me, but even being here with the most important people in my life isn’t helping much. I’m sorry to admit that,” I say.

“No, you’re right to feel that way. Our leaders don’t want us to directly go after the opposing leaders of the other countries since that would start another Great War, so there’s no helping us there, so we must help ourselves instead, and I know just the place that will help us further our goal of getting rid of the poisonous foreigners.”

Okazaki brings us to a home for the poor that’s run by the Church.

She says, “I’m sure Vincenzo and Marin figured out the foreigners who are poisoning our country with their ideology came in not just from the docks and airports, but with the fleeing immigrants as well.”

“That’s right,” Marin says with a look of surprise on her face.

Neither of us explained to Okazaki or Cesare that we knew the Vorfahren infiltrators were coming in with the immigrants, but hadn’t brought it up because we didn’t know which boats or planes they came on or where they went from there.

“I know you didn’t bring it up because you didn’t know where they were entering from and where they went, but I’ve been told-”

“In your dreams or a vision?” I ask.

“By my friends in the Church this time. They told me that they stay here with the immigrants and use it as a base of operations, a place to hide weapons, manufacture propaganda, and meet with people in power.”

“Let’s go in there and take care of business then. Thanks as always for your help, babe,” Cesare says as he pulls out his revolver that’s loaded with shotgun shells. There’s the old Cesare.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Marin and I say.

“What?”

“We can’t just go in there, turning the place upside down to look for the Vorfahren, or what I mean to say is that we can’t do it without permission,” I say.

“When did we need their permission to do anything we know to be right?” Okazaki says, while taking out her foreign pistol with exorcist prayers engraved on it.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Marin says with her hands out in front of Cesare and Okazaki. “What do you think this is going to look like to them, us just going in there shooting and taking people in for questioning?”

“Like a bunch of criminals doing what we do. Come on, Marin. You’re used to this.”

“We usually have a cover for our actions.”

“We have the government’s cover. We’ll explain to them later what happened, and with what we’re coming out with, they’ll have no choice but to grin and bear the reward. So, are we doing this or not?”

Marin looks at me, and I shrug.

“I’m only doing this because you and your husband will do it even without us.”

“You know it, sis.”

I take out my golden pistol loaded with rifle rounds, and Marin takes out her magnum. We head into the poor house, and Okazaki tells the front desk worker she knows to go home for the night, and she does.

“I hope you make them pay,” the worker says as she leaves.

Okazaki then leads us to the priest that she knows and asks him to reveal the location of the Vorfahren to us.

“Okazaki, please, there are poor men and women here. If the authorities were to find out about what we’re doing, then everyone here could suffer,” the priest says.

“Father, they already are suffering. With the Vorfahren here, they will suffer even more, especially if they corrupt the country with their false beliefs and hatred,” Okazaki says.

“What’s the worst that they can do? Kick you out? Shut this place down? We can ensure that doesn’t happen,” Cesare adds.

“Cesare, beloved, some of the people who work here aren’t forced to hold evil men and women here against their will. A lot of them want to for one reason or another.”

“Is that true?” The priest has a hard time answering, giving his answer through his stuttering and jumbled answer. “I ought to shoot you. Tell me one good reason why you let these people subvert the country you call home.”

Again, the priest stutters and has a hard time giving a straight answer, so Okazaki says, “I’ll answer for him. I can read in his soul that he doesn’t want the government to shut them down or the Church to stop sending them funds, because if this shelter is compromised, then they’ll stop making hundreds of thousands for all the immigrants they’re taking in. He has a lot of excuses for using the money to care for the actual poor and needy, but he knows what he’s doing is wrong.”

As Cesare points his revolver at the face of the priest, the priest tells him to wait and tells us, “They’re in the basement. Here.”

The priest presses a part of the wall like a button, and a hidden door opens.

“If this is a trap or you don’t tell the cops everything you know, I’ll cap you myself,” Cesare says to the priest.

“It’s not a trap. They stay down there, make their propaganda down there, store their weapons, and meet their people. I swear!”

Cesare looks at him, then at Okazaki, who nods at him. The four of us head downstairs to see people working on picket signs, flags, and papers with Vorfahren symbols and propaganda on them.

Marin grabs all of us, pulling us aside and whispering, “Okay. We have to play this smart. No guns blazing because we need this evidence intact, meaning we need a lot of these people alive enough to talk to the authorities.”

“What should we do then?” Okazaki whispers.

“We go with the usual Gatto Sorella plan of attack. Pretend that we have more strength than we actually do, and with our boys, it’ll be easier to fake it.”

“We get it. You don’t need to explain the plan to us,” I say, to which Cesare agrees.

“Let’s do it then, on my go. Let the ladies take the lead,” Marin says

Agreeing, Marin sends the cops our coordinates through our phones for immediate backup, then she and Okazaki take the lead. They shoot their guns up into the air, announce that the cops will be here soon, and that the only hope of them getting off easy is their cooperation. Everyone here has their hands up, and those who look down at the guns, I shoot in the direction of, hitting the wall, and threatening them to keep their hands up.

“If I were you, I’d do as the ladies say,” Cesare adds. “I’m feeling awfully trigger-happy tonight, and you people are already pissing me off with what you’re doing in the old world, and now you want to bring your disease here? No. You don’t get to do that.”

No one says a word, and the four of us are able to keep the crowds under control until the cops come here and arrest everyone without anyone fighting back or firing a shot directly at anyone.

Outside, I say, “I know that the Vatican is compromised in the old world, but for some reason, I didn’t consider that the people here were as well, especially in our own neighborhood. How did we not see this happening?”

“We’re up against people who took their country’s government from under them. Our country may not be in the same circumstances as theirs was, but there are a lot of people here that are sympathetic to their cause, even in our government,” Marin says.

“We’d better report back to Vito D’Accordo about this. With his responsibilities over who and what comes in and out of this country, I’m sure he’ll want to plug this hole as fast as possible,” Cesare says.

“And then go to our contact in the Church,  Bishop Rodrigo Dovuto. If anyone is going to get into trouble, it’s him,” Marin says.

“Let’s hope the good bishop is actually good then.”

“If anything, at least we have a better lead on getting rid of the problem from our city,” Okazaki says.

“That’s right. Let’s get to it before the Vorfahren can plan around it,” Marin says as we head out to go to our separate contacts.