Redistributive Justice: Chapter 2 – Purifying the Food Chain

Chapter 2 – Purifying the Food Chain

Meeting at one of the many Hydra Roundtable hideouts, my friends and I go over the new target that the Campione brothers have given us. It’s a food and drink research and processing facility and farm, a place that seems more like a humble facility that supplies and makes better food and drinks. The information gathered for us suggests that this place is making products that poison the public to influence and cull the population, and also sells them the cure in medicine and needles that further implant diseases and behavior-altering chemicals.

“Am I reading this right? They’re putting chemicals into the food and water to turn people gay?” Suzuki asks.

“It wouldn’t surprise me if they’re putting nanobots into everything we consume to either keep track of us or make us do what they want,” Kelly says.

“Well, I don’t think that destroying this research and production facility is part of their plan,” I say.

“They make people sick to make them healthy to their standards and to control them? It’s no wonder why they call themselves the Paradox Collective. Everything they do is a contradiction,” Al says.

“As far as I’m concerned, they’re the living embodiment of sin and need to be purged by our righteous fury," Suzuki says.

“Amen, brother.”

“Let’s get this done so I can stop worrying about the food we eat and what we drink,” I say.

My friends and I put on our hazmat suits and take our guns, explosives, and USBs to collect any defamatory information on the Paradox Collective’s allies. When we head out to the facility and research center, the favor the Hydra Roundtable called in is already waiting for us, drawing the guards’ attention at every entrance. We rally the people who’ve been affected by the Paradox Collective’s experimental food, drinks, and medicine, and they’re all protesting, rioting, and causing all sorts of trouble. They hold signs and shout about their woes, including losing children and the elderly, miscarriages, an inability to conceive, and incurable diseases thanks to the so-called medicine and products made by this place. Using the chaos as cover, we head into the nearby sewage system and use the map of the underground to navigate ourselves to get inside the facility.

“I’m glad that we’re wearing hazmat suits; otherwise, this place would literally melt us alive from the inside and out,” Kelly says.

“It’s also good that we won’t encounter any resistance down here, and only have to look out for the cameras. How do they make sure the toxic sewage here doesn’t get backed up and contained below?” Suzuki asks.

“They send down underpaid employees to take care of it. For them, it’s as easy as coming down here with a hazmat suit and flipping some switches, but if they fall, they’re either chalked up to being missing or counted as a workplace death, depending on whether a body turns up. If whatever is down here is released, it could do a lot of damage to the surface. That’s why we’re destroying the facility above and not touching anything below it,” I explain.

The four of us carefully make our way past the barely held-up catwalks in the sewers. Because we take care of the cameras with our suppressed weapons, some workers come down here to fix them; unfortunate souls we have to take care of by gunning them down. Surprisingly, only one group of workers is sent down, and no one else bothers us as we break more cameras and make our way to the sewer’s exit. Inside the facility, we find that everyone is wearing a hazmat suit of some kind and going about their business. To better blend in, we find a changing room and change into the particular hazmat suit everyone is wearing that has the facility’s logo on it.

“Okay, everyone. You know where to go,” I say to my friends as we spread out.

We place charges throughout the facility in places where it's weakest, something that would be harder if we didn’t have insider info because a lot of places in this facility look poorly put together.

“It’s no wonder that man-made diseases get leaked from here. This place is more poorly put together than fake Mediterranean food made by people who don’t love the culture,” Al says.

“Was there info about human experiments going on here? What should we do about them?” Kelly asks.

“They’re presumably volunteers, Rosebud,” I say, using Kelly’s codename. “Once we start blowing this place up, they’ll have some time to escape.”

“Some time, but not a lot, as if they deserve it. No one deserves to leave here alive, Cowboy,” Suzuki says, using my codename.

“What makes you say that, Byakko?” I say, using Suzuki’s codename.

“Do you see the experiments going on here? You can’t work here and be innocent, given how it’s all done in service for a wicked cause and it all results in innocent people being needlessly hurt.”

“Now you’re making me want to start the party early,” Kelly says.

“We’ll get there, Rosebud. All my packages are delivered,” Al says.

“Good work, Cappuccino,” I say, using Al’s codename. “Start clocking out, and we’ll meet you to pop the champagne.”

As we set the final charges, we also tell the friends of our informant to leave while they still can. All of them leave, knowing what’s coming next. Additionally, we find whatever nearby computers, use our USBs to get inside them, and gather whatever intel we can, assuming no guards or cameras are watching.

“Is anyone else seeing that the computers and servers have more eyes on them than the employees?” Kelly asks.

“They’re more protective of their information than their people, Rosebud. If you can’t get the dirt, then don’t worry about it,” I say.

“Yes, sir.”

With all the primary and secondary objectives completed, the four of us make a quick escape out the front door of the building, use the car keys that Al nabbed off one of the workers, and drive away. When we get to the facility gate, we signal to the crowd what’s about to happen. They radio to the other groups, who then run away from the facility before we blow it up, causing a massive explosion that blasts away the gates of the facility, the farm near it, and nearly craters the ground underneath it. Thankfully, everyone in the crowds got away before the blast got to them, and all of us are away before authorities arrive. My friends and I go back to our hideout to change into our normal suits before going to where the Campione brothers and their campaign allies are making food and handing it out to the poor along with water and a bit of money. Additionally, there are charitable services here that offer the poor a home and opportunities to obtain simple jobs.

We meet our informants at the event, give them the USBs, and thank them for their help, saying, “It was a lot simpler than I thought it’d be. I expected them to send more security after blinding their peeping eyes and sending away their repairmen.”

“They never cared about their people or even the security equipment, especially in the sewers because nothing could be made to last down there. I’m pretty sure no one was watching the cameras, and they were just jerking off on their phones,” the informant says. “It’s why I turned on them. I thought I could do a lot of good there, but I was really poisoning people. All the bosses there cared about was manipulating the public and getting government grants to perform their experiments and make their poisons. I should’ve been working in a charity like I am now.”

“Speaking of that, why don’t the four of you join us?” Vincenzo says with a gentle smile to my friends and me.

We agree and help our bosses feed and give to the poor. It’s a strange change of pace, and somehow, out of all my friends, I’m the only one who hasn’t done this before.

“That’s because you’re too focused on your usual job of taking things. This’ll do your soul good, Ace,” Vincenzo says.

“This is another thing that’ll do my soul good?” I ask.

“Yes, forgive my word choice. I’ve been taking greater influence from my teacher, Russell Tranquillo.”

Assuming he’s some bigger mob boss, I don’t question him about Russell. Instead, I focus on handing out things to people, and I do find it weirdly satisfying. Looking at my friends, they’re also enjoying this with smiles on their faces and making small conversation with the poor. Everything suddenly changes when a group of Middle Easterners spit in Vincenzo’s face and throw their sandwiches at him, complaining that he didn’t respect their religion by giving them pork.

“Listen, you ungrateful pieces of-”

“Cesare, I’m fine,” Vincenzo says as he stops his brother, wipes his face, and gives the Middle Easterners a gentle smile. “My apologies. Next time, mention it, and I’ll give you a steak sandwich instead or a peanut butter and jelly. Would you like either or both?”

The Middle Easterners look weirdly at Vincenzo, tell him no, and walk away.

“Those goat-fuckers deserve to eat a concrete sandwich. They don’t know the meaning of true charity. All they know is having sex with animals and raping other people’s women,” Cesare says.

“Don’t mind them, and stop speaking so loudly,” Vincenzo says.

“It’s the truth.”

“Regardless, we have a public image to keep up. Besides, it is true charity to feed even your enemies. Remember, the only true man of honor died on a cross while we were still enemies to Him.”

“Tch. You’re right, and you’re taking too many lessons from Russell.”

“Vincenzo, do you need us to do anything?” I ask.

“Nothing. Just keep serving the people.”

“They were probably sent here to mess with us,” Al says.

“You’re right. No real poor person denies a free meal,” Kelly adds.

Vincenzo tells some of his people to take care of giving to the poor, while we go into the kitchen of the charity house to talk privately.

“Whether or not they were sent by the Paradox Collective is none of our concern, no matter how likely it is,” Vincenzo says. “Elections are won just as much in the light as in the shadows, so I don’t need any of you to cause a scene, unless our lives are at stake. Okay?”

“Yes, sir,” the four of us say.

“Nevertheless, I am glad to see that I can always rely on you four to get the job done. Now, despite what I said, I need you to cause a little trouble for the Middle Easterners. I’m tired of the liberal political leaders that the Paradox Collective aligns itself with using them and the immigrants from the south to invade and ruin our country. I’ll call some friends that you’ll meet to help you. Show them not to mess with our home.”

Going out with our masks, we meet Vincenzo’s allies who are going to help us intimidate the Middle Easterners, who just happen to be members of the Israeli mafia. They give us bats, Molotovs, and pistols, give us the general plan of causing trouble in their neighborhood and having it blamed on the Middle Easterners, and leaving.

“Any questions?” an Israeli mafia soldier asks.

“Yes,” Suzuki says. “What do you have to gain from this? Forgive me for assuming your religion, but you people are usually on the opposite side of us, and care more for your people and country than this one.”

“I can say the same about you, foreigner.”

“I have loyalties far above my country.”

“We can say the same. We have no care for the Middle Eastern dogs, and have common cause with the Catholics in making this a safe country.”

“You do so to manipulate it from within.”

“Maybe so, but at least we aren’t violent and driven by lust like those from the death cult of the Pale Green Horse, right?”

“Sure.”

“Now, does anyone have any real questions? No? Let’s get to work, boys and girls.”

We do as the Israeli mafia soldiers say and cause trouble by throwing Molotovs at churches of the death cult and breaking their windows with our bats. When we are chased by their adherents, we bring them to the Israeli neighborhood, where they start a fight with the locals they blame for the attack on their church. Then the police come in and arrest them for assaulting the locals. The Israeli mafia soldier thanks us, and we go our separate ways. Back with Vincenzo, he tells us we did a good job and shares a meal he’s personally made with us. I have to admit I feel a little conflicted about what I’ve done. It felt a little like my old job, working for predatory Israeli loan sharks, but at least this time I was bringing down people who deserve it, poor as they may be. Well, all I can do now is ask God to help me be better, enjoy the good I do, and enjoy this amazing meal that Vincenzo has made.

Redistributive Justice: Chapter 1 – To Steal a Country

Chapter 1 – To Steal a Country

“Let’s get this done and get out of here,” I say.

My three friends agree as we exit the bank’s bathrooms. We spread out and check on everything we need to before proceeding with our plan. Looking above at the cameras, I see that the lights on them are off. Checking my phone, I get a message that the police in this city are preoccupied with other crimes happening here. The guards who usually patrol the floor are not here, and the customers and workers are starting to realize that something is up. My friends and I quickly go to the back and put our masks on. Kelly puts on a clown girl mask, Al puts on a grey mask with black stripes around its eyes and mouth, Suzuki wears a tiger mask, and I have a clown mask with the Chimaera States flag on it.

We’re all wearing suits with long jackets; I’m wearing the most basic black-and-white suit with a tie, Al is wearing one with a bow tie that looks like a butler's suit, Suzuki’s suit is like mine and has his golden thorny cross, and Kelly’s suit is bright pink and looks similar to a ringmaster’s. At the vault door, our insiders open it, revealing all the cash, gold, and valuables inside. My friends and I ignore all that, go up to the locked boxes in the back marked with small dragons, pick the locks, move the valuables aside, and pull the levers to reveal a hidden door in the bank. Opening the hidden door, we find a room filled with gold, cash, and cultists wearing dragon masks and black-and-gold vestments who are beheading infants on an altar. Noticing us, the cultists stop their ritual and stare at us.

“Sick bastards,” Kelly says as we take out our compact assault rifles from under our long jackets.

Before the cultists say anything, we open fire, killing the cultists and saving the remaining infants. We put away our compact assault rifles, hand the infants off to our insiders, and take as many of the valuables as we can in large bags. Walking back out on the bank floor with our masks off, nobody seems to be aware of what’s happened, and no one questions any of us as to why we’re carrying a bunch of heavy bags. Outside the bank, I drop a bunch of hundred-dollar bills into the cup of a homeless veteran of the Great War who is drawing pictures and has a cat with him, before we enter our truck in the bank’s parking lot and drive off.

“Smooth as always, guys,” I say.

“We weren’t smooth enough to save all the infants before they could be sacrificed,” Kelly says. “Do these disgusting pagans really have to be so archaic in the way they try to get what they want?”

“It’s how they’ve operated for hundreds of years, and they think it works, so they keep doing it,” Suzuki says.

“I wish I could go back there and shoot them again,” Kelly says.

“We’ll get our chance to punish more of them. They’ll all get what they deserve,” Al says as he crosses himself.

“Amen.”

Looking at each of my friends, I see Kelly’s youthful face, her half-blue, half-blue hair, pale skin, blue eyes, and black lipstick. Al has long black hair, green eyes, and an equally youthful Mediterranean face. Suzuki looks like the spitting image of the tough samurai from Tatsu that he is, with long black hair, brown eyes, and a gruff face. Meanwhile, I’m a slightly old man with a lot of greys in my black hair and goatee, and my dark brown eyes show a lot of what I’ve been through. Just looking at us, I can see that my friends are a bit disturbed by what we saw, but not completely shaken. We’ve seen worse. At least it wasn’t like that pedophile island run by the wealthy and influential elites of the world that we raided not too long ago.

We park the truck we’re in at a church’s parking lot, hand the keys over to some friends, and the truck is driven off again to a safe location. Right now, a presidential rally for Vincenzo Campione is happening here with dozens upon dozens of supporters here for him and his brother, Cesare Campione, who is his choice to be vice president.

Going up to Vincenzo, I say, “The withdrawal and deposit of your political donation is complete.”

Both Vincenzo and Cesare Campione are sharply dressed men and look like real men of status and power, which should be a given since they own casinos, are the secret heads of a syndicate of virtuous criminals called the Hydra Roundtable, and are part of the mafia, or the family, as they like to call it. Vincenzo wears a black-and-gold suit with a red tie and a black-and-red fedora, and has black hair and deep blue eyes. Meanwhile, Cesare has a grey and blue suit, a blue bow tie, a grey and blue fedora, and blonde hair and green eyes.

Vincenzo softly smiles at me, tips his fedora, and says, “Thank you for the kind donation. Let’s head inside the church. I think I need a little rest from all the attention.”

“Thank God. I thought this would be easy, but it can be both boring and exhausting,” Cesare says.

Going inside the church, Vincenzo waves toward the priests and nuns who smile at him and walk away, presumably knowing that he wants to be left alone with us.

“What of the cultists?” Vincenzo asks.

“Filled with holes like Swiss cheese,” Kelly says.

“That’s good to hear. Did you put a bullet in them for me? I wish I could’ve been there myself,” Cesare says.

“Yes, we did,” Al says. “All I’m curious about is whether the tax agency will really turn a blind eye to your newfound wealth in your bank account.”

“We have people within the agency who will help us out with that. Besides, that money was in the invisible account of our foe. No one is going to claim it actually exists. They’ll just take this loss on the chin. It’s not like they don’t have cash and gold reserves in other areas of the country,” Vincenzo says.

“Or other places where they’re sacrificing infants. I say we strike their abortion clinics and the orphanages they run,” I say.

“We can only hope and pray that we eradicate it all and that, when I’m president, I can abolish the great evils of the tax agency and abortion clinics.”

“But is this really the best way to destroy our foe, this Paradox Collective?”

“It is, Ace. They already have too much power in the rest of the world, so we can’t allow their candidate to win the presidency of the United Chimaera States.”

“What about the Malefic? Just because they don’t have the presidency and we flush out the rats from their hiding places doesn’t mean they’ll be completely erased.”

“Let me handle that. Getting rid of them is like getting rid of sin from humanity. We can never completely erase it, or our other foes like the Middle Easterners, Eastern European Slav Federation, and Western European Vorfahren aligned Mediterranean Empire and Zeitloses Imperium.”

“Stop overthinking things like you usually do, Ace,” Kelly says as she slaps my back. “We’ll be fine.”

“We’ll deal with the problems as they come to us. We can’t do it all at once, and if things get more difficult, what are you going to do? That’s life,” Al says.

“Providence will ensure our victory. There’s no need for concern even in turbulent waters,” Suzuki adds.

“Okay, okay.”

“Ace, please stay with us for mass, our rally, and dinner afterward. It’ll do your soul good,” Vincenzo says.

I agree and stay for the mass that they’re holding and dedicating to the country and Vincenzo’s presidential run. Afterward, a dinner is held in the church’s parking lot where Vincenzo gives his speech. When I first joined the Hydra Collective, I wouldn’t have expected to be told by the bosses to support their run for president, but I guess that’s what happens when you get in the innermost circles of an influential and powerful organization.

On the stage, Vincenzo says, “Family and friends, or should I just say, family? We’re all family under God, so let’s not act distant or separate ourselves from the struggles and lives of one another. Thank you so much for your support in my struggle to run for president and for trying to make this country an even better place than it already is. Believe it or not, my first career choice was one in politics, even though I became a car mechanic and casino manager. I’ve always wanted to help our country and wider world from a place where I can do the most, and with your help, we can make that dream a reality, so I can’t thank you enough. From what I’m hearing from the news, it looks like I’m certain to win the Traditionalist pick, and after that, we’ll only have one more hurdle to overcome.

I promise you that I will always listen to your concerns and do what’s best for our country. As you know, I’ve already dedicated my life to bettering this community, and I have done so, so you know I will surely do the same for the wider country. May God help us secure victory if it is His will, and may God forever bless us and the United Chimaera States.”

Everyone claps for Vincenzo and cheers for him. He smiles, bows, and steps down from the stage to talk to them, sign autographs, and take pictures.

My friends and I are sitting at a table in the very corner of the parking lot under the shade and a place where not many can see us.

“Do you think a rally like this could be attacked?” I ask.

“They have to be stupid to do so. Attacking a candidate only gives credence to his cause, and killing him makes him a martyr,” Al says.

“Or sometimes their death is just their death, just like in my country,” Kelly says.

“The United Chimaera States isn’t as backwards as the Slav Federation,” I say.

“You sure about that, Ace? It uses people like us to give illegitimate wealth and power to legitimate people who can also be considered criminals themselves.”

“The systems of politics and business that man builds are imperfect. It needs correction from outside, Kelly,” Suzuki says.

“I know your government is used to it because they use samurai like you without directly saying so, but also, I’m not complaining. I’m just stating facts, and why I prefer the career I have over getting into politics.”

“It’s a noble career path that requires a lot of discipline and the ability to endure the temptations of corruption. Vincenzo and Cesare are probably the only men who can handle the job,” Al says.

“You’re just saying that because you’re in the same “family” as them, but I guess I have to agree with you. They are our bosses and, as long as they don’t tell me to join them in the White House, they have my vote,” Kelly says.

As I look around the parking lot, I see a lot of infectious optimism and happiness. I’m sure the Campione Brothers have their underhanded methods in securing the presidency against the Paradox Collective, who are still a concerning mystery to me. I can only hope and pray that we win, and that their Malefic leaders see justice one day.

My latest short story is done and out today!

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The four thieves, Ace, Kelly, Al, and Suzuki, have risen in the criminal underworld of the virtuous Hydra Roundtable. They'll not only ensure the other groups are doing what they're told but will also investigate a possible hidden rival syndicate that is less honorable than they are, has greater influence, and plans for their country.

Virtue Among Thieves: Chapter 4 – A Far More Experienced Foe

Chapter 4 – A Far More Experienced Foe

“Now, we’re going to be raiding an ancient temple?” I ask the Hydra Roundtable messenger, who is wearing a suit and snake mask.

“To be fair, it shouldn’t be as dangerous as your previous job,” the messenger says.

Right now, my friends and I are sitting in a bar in a small jungle town with no name to it. It’s in the middle of nowhere, and its inhabitants don’t even speak the same kind of English we do, and are having some kind of festive celebration where everyone is wearing a mask, making it perfect for us to wear our masks in public.

“He does have a point there,” Kelly says before lifting her mask to take a sip of her fruity drink.

“That’s true, but it feels like our jobs are just going to keep taking place in more ridiculous locations. What’s next? Are we going to the moon or Antarctica?”

“The Vorfahren are said to be building bases there,” the messenger says.

“Are you serious?”

“Only semi. After what you’ve and the other groups discovered, we think further evidence of our rival, this Paradox Collective and The Malefic, is. Their origins, or at least a base of operations of theirs, is inside the temple we’re sending you to investigate.”

“Can we go to the moon after?” Kelly asks.

“If whatever you find points us to going there. It can be arranged,” the messenger says.

“Yes!”

“Alright, alright. Let’s take this one step at a time and get this done.”

“Thank you. Accomplishing this job will also bring you to the innermost circle of our organization, so be aware that your efforts for us have not gone unnoticed.”

We thank the messenger and go on our way. The Hydra Roundtable has given us disguises of researchers and official government passes to be investigating the ancient temple just in case we are caught. Nevertheless, we have our masks, explosives, and guns in our researcher bags just in case things get violent. From the publicly available knowledge, this temple was built by its native inhabitants and was a place of human sacrifice so that the natives could enjoy a fruitful harvest and favor from their false idols. Whenever I look into the history of places like this, I can’t be thankful enough to the original explorers of this country that they cleared them out or converted them to the one true faith.

The inside of the temple is dark, so we use our flashlights and light the torches with our lighters to better see what’s written on the walls. I’d say the fresh torches are a sign of it being inhabited, but since this place is a tourist destination for tourists, researchers, and explorers, that thought goes out the window. What does count as evidence of who we’re looking for comes in the form of various drawings of the dragon emblem we’ve been seeing, along with drawings of triangles with eyes in them, depictions of devils, and false idols.

“You think this means we’re up against multiple groups or that they’ve had multiple symbols over the years?” Al asks.

“Could be both,” Suzuki says.

“Guys, I think there might be a hidden door here,” Kelly says.

Kelly shows the three of us a bunch of stones that look new and are in the shape of a door.

“What do you think? Do you think we should blow it open or is there some kind of puzzle to solve to open it?” I ask.

“Blow it open. I don’t have the patience for complicated puzzles,” Kelly says.

Al and Suzuki agree, so we take out some explosives, blow the stones away, and blow the metal door that was behind them. There’s no way that no one heard that or we didn’t trigger some alarm, so we put on our masks and arm ourselves with our guns. Carefully going down the secret tunnel, we encounter pressure plates that activate spikes that come out of the floor and wall, make flames come out from the wall, or make the floor fall out from the floor in front of us.

“Of course there’d be stupid traps like these,” Al says.

“I’m surprised we haven’t seen a snake trap yet,” Suzuki adds.

“Easy goes it,” I say as we start to be more careful about our steps.

Unfortunately, we can’t take it easy for long, as a shot comes out from the darkness, hitting Kelly in the face, knocking her down.

“Ah! Why’s it always the face?!” Kelly says as she gets back up on her feet and returns fire.

The four of us are forced to quickly advance and fire into the darkness as we’re being shot at, all the while activating and dodging traps. What makes things even more difficult is that we get shot from behind and have to contend with gunfire coming from both directions. Fortunately, the gunfire from the front stops, allowing us to focus on the attack coming from behind, just as seemingly more people start shooting at us. We walk over the corpses of people dressed in all black gear as we find another hidden doorway, blow it open, and enter a better-lit and more modern-looking area. Before we explore further, we throw explosives behind us, blowing open the floors under our pursuers and seemingly killing them from the sound of falling and dying, and the ceasing of the gunfire.

“What do we have here?” I say out loud.

Looking around, we see modern electrical lighting, altars with human remains on them that look like they’ve had the blood sucked out of them, and various laptops connected to the many wires around the ground.

“Looks like some kind of secret cult sacrificing center,” Suzuki says.

“Look at these papers and stone tablets with their dragon emblem on them,” Al says as he waves around what he’s talking about. “These are written in some weird language I don’t understand.”

“We’ll have them translated when we take them back,” I say.

“This is definitely a sacrificing center of some kind. Look,” Kelly says.

Going over to where Kelly is, we see a dark pit with dozens upon dozens of bodies of blood-drained corpses, some of which are children.

“Yeah, this place needs to be blown back to Hell,” Al says.

“Say no more,” Suzuki says as he starts to plant explosives on the pillars around us.

It’s then that the whole temple starts to shake. Parts of the wall start falling and some of the ways out get blocked by debris.

“Wow. A ye old self-destructing temple,” Kelly says.

“Let’s get out of here!” I say.

The four of us run through the temple, dodging the falling ceiling and advancing against more of the temple’s defenders as they fight against us, even as their people get crushed. Thankfully, the pressure traps aren’t activating anymore, and we have enough explosives left to blow our way out when we have nowhere else to go. As we exit into the fresh air, the temple collapses from the outside, making us sprint as fast as we can down the stairs and away from the temple.

“If anything, we can thank them for doing part of our job for us,” Kelly says.

“They probably had more dark secrets in that temple that they didn’t want to see the light of day,” I say.

“We should have plenty of their secrets with us. Let’s just hope that our friends can translate them,” Al says.

Heading back to the Hydra Roundtable hideout, we give them the files and tablets we found and are told to wait inside the hideout for further instruction. After a bit of waiting, we are invited into a dark room for our promotion and to be informed about what was found through what we retrieved. We sit at a roundtable with two people sitting ahead of us, their faces obscured by the darkness of the room.

“So, what would you like to hear about first?” one of the men in the shadows asks.

“Our promotion,” Kelly says.

At the same time, I say, “What you found on the tablets and files.”

“Heh, which would you like to start with?”

Looking at me, Kelly says, “What Ace said.”

“Good, because that’s marginally more important for you four,” the other man in the shadows says.

“What you found was written in several ancient European and native languages,” the other man in the shadows explains. “They talk about their rituals and the gods they sacrifice to for worldly riches and influence.”

“Some of the notes also mock the people who read them. It seems like they anticipated that the temple would be raided and made notes where they flaunt their influences in criminal, business, military, and political industries, and how they’re a cult older than the founding of the Chimaera States.”

“Do we stand a chance against them?” Suzuki asks.

“If we make the right moves, we do. They don’t care about the fact that we know about them and have ruined their plans in certain areas. They have their sights set on the next presidential election so they can have the Chimaera States for themselves.”

“So, what do you want us to do? Steal the election for you?” Al asks.

“Yes.”

“Heh. Yeah, alright…Are you serious?” Kelly asks.

“Yes, we are.”

“And who will be president instead of their candidate?” I ask.

“We will,” both men in the shadows say.

“And you are?”

“Well, part of your promotion has granted you the information you’ve been seeking, Ace. You will now know who runs the Hydra Roundtable.”

The two figures in the dark are illuminated by the lights turning on in the room, revealing them to be Vincenzo and Cesare Campione, two of the most influential mafia bosses in the country. Vincenzo is dressed in his typical black and gold suit and has blue eyes and black hair. His brother, Cesare, is dressed in a grey and blue suit and has green eyes and blonde hair.

“I should’ve seen this coming.”

“What makes you say that, Ace?” Vincenzo says.

“You two use snakes as your symbol and are sometimes called the Quartiere Cavalieri or Neighborhood Knights; therefore, making it fairly plausible that you’d found an honorable society of criminals we call the Hydra Roundtable.”

“Good job in deducing that, Ace, but what do you think? Knowing who we are and our intentions, does that stop you from continuing your service for the Hydra Roundtable and us?”

I look at my three friends and say, “Since I know that you’re truly men of honor like you say you are, I guess it doesn’t affect me in the slightest.”

“What about the rest of you?” Cesare asks.

“I don’t care who I work for as long as I get to have fun and punish the right people along the way,” Kelly says.

“You’re bosses of my family, and brothers to me, as a result. My loyalty is to God and to you,” Al says.

“If working with you is like working with my family and Al, then I don’t see an issue with it, especially with what’s at stake,” Suzuki says.

“Agreed. So, are you ready to steal a country?” Vincenzo asks with a smile on his face.

The rest of my friends smile at me, and we all say yes.

“Let’s get this done,” I say.

Heh, to think everything we’ve done would lead us to here, taking a country for men of honor. Well, it’s better to be in their hands than those of the cultists we were fighting. God help us in this great task you’ve given us.

 

The End

Virtue Among Thieves: Chapter 3 – Raising the Stakes and Score

Chapter 3 – Raising the Stakes and Score

“What are you saying we should attack Site Seven-Nineteen Forty-Seven?” I ask while trying my best not to yell.

The Hydra Roundtable told us to come all the way out here to a dinner and gas station that’s in the desert in the middle of the United Chimaera States for a top-secret mission. My friends and I already have our masks on, and everyone else at the dinner is dressed up in suits with snake masks on.

“Why shouldn’t you?” the man sitting with us in a snake mask with a voice distorter says.

Taken aback by the question, I think about what to say next before saying, “What do you mean?”

“You joined our organization to make a difference and for the life you once lived, didn’t you, Cowboy?”

“Yes.”

“In light of recent events, we think that you need to steal certain records on the secret organization associated with the one that has the dragon emblem on it.”

“And the information is most likely in Site Seven-Nineteen Forty-Seven?”

“According to our sources, it is.”

“They were inside sources?”

“Insofar as they heard rumors from their official offices.”

“So these sources aren’t insiders of the Site?”

“Nope. Even our friends in the highest places of power can’t get their foot in the door. It’s only for those who are chosen to be there, and even their names are kept off record.”

“And we have no way of getting in other than the front entrance?”

“Yep.”

“So, what are we going to do? Charge the facility and hope no one kills us from point A to B?”

“Yes, but we have military uniforms and a military vehicle for you for that.”

“It’s better than nothing, I guess.”

I look over to my team, who are watching me.

“You seem unsure about doing this, Cowboy.”

“It’s a big step up from what we usually do.”

“Given what you found in the cult of the Pale Green Horse, we need to make a major strike against this rival of ours, expose them, and bring them to justice, and this is our best shot. You and your team are in our top five most trusted teams, so we know you won’t disappoint us. So, what are you waiting for?”

Again, I look over to my team and wave them over.

“Looks like we’re doing this raid on Site Seven-Nineteen Forty-Seven. What do you think?” I ask.

“I think it’s going to be our most exciting heist yet! I don’t know what you’re so worried about, Cowboy. We’ll be fine,” Kelly says.

“If it means getting at this dragon group, then we have to take the chance,” Al says.

“Agreed. We have to go in there and expose the truth and whatever secrets our rival may have,” Suzuki says.

I throw up my hands and say, “Okay. Let’s get this done.”

My friends and I put on our military disguises, keep our masks in our bags, and make sure we’re fully loaded before heading out. Once ready, we get in the heavily armored Humvee and head out to Site Seven-Nineteen Forty-Seven.

Along the way, Kelly asks, “Do you think we’ll find aliens there? This is the secret area where it’s rumored they’re being experimented on after all.”

“I don’t believe in aliens. They’re just demons in the fleshy forms,” Suzuki says.

“Could also just be some government-made creatures or altered humans,” Al suggests.

“They’re going to be the least of our worries. We have no plan or insiders for this job. We’re just flying by the seat of our pants,” I say.

“That’s what makes this the most exciting job of our entire time with the organization. I can’t wait to see what kind of chaos we’ll cause!” Kelly says.

“Keep your temper, Slav. We need to be more on guard than we were in the past,” Suzuki says.

“Yeah, yeah, I will.”

Site Seven-Nineteen Forty-Seven is in sight. It has large concrete walls around it, multiple guard towers, and only one gate. Going up to the gate, we see a guard post that doesn’t even try to check our IDs or listen to our excuse for being there.

Instead, the guard points his gun at me and says, “Turn around, or I will shoot you!”

Kelly shoots the guard with her machine guns loaded with non-lethal rounds, and then says, “Yup. There was no other way this could’ve gone.”

We put on our masks, and then Kelly gets on the mounted gun of the Humvee, filled with anti-tank rounds, and blows a hole in the gate, giving us a way in.

“Woah! Let’s see some aliens, boys!” Kelly yells out.

Leaning out of the window are Suzuki and Al, each armed with light machine guns loaded with non-lethal rounds and having a rocket launcher beside them for heavy armor. Now that we’re past the gate, we see that the area between it and the main facility is a stretch of empty land, a big problem for us since jets and helicopters are being deployed against us. Al and Suzuki switch to rockets as they and Kelly fire at the aircraft to give us cover and take them out of the sky. Another unfortunate part of this road is the mines scattered around it. There is a faint trail of tire marks in the ground, so I try to follow them while avoiding fire from the sky.

“I knew this would be insane from the start,” I say out loud.

“That just means we need to be insane as well!” Kelly says as she kicks the Humvee’s radio to play one of her favorite metal songs loudly.

“This music is just making my ears bleed. This is why I never allow her to play her music in the car,” Suzuki says.

“Shut up, Byakko! You just need to improve your taste!”

A loud shot rings out and hits Kelly in the head, forcing her down into the Humvee.

“You okay, Rosebud?!” I ask.

“Yeah, the asshole grazed me. I’ll send them back a bullet with their name on it,” Kelly says as she grabs the anti-materiel rifle.

Using the rifle, Kelly snipes at snipers in the distance and also hits the pilots of the helicopters. In this case, we’re allowed to switch to lethal rounds, given the intensity of the situation and importance of the job. Getting closer, a squad of four tanks lines up and fires at us from a distance. My friends fire at them with explosives of their own as I continue to try to avoid fire and mines at the same time. Suzuki, Al, and Kelly each manage to blow up a tank after hitting them several times. After they all focus their fire on the last one, we seem to be in the clear until we hit a bunch of mines near the facility, and it seems like no matter where I drive, I’m always hitting a mine.

Our Humvee is all but destroyed now, so I steer it as best I can into the facility, where we are immediately met with small arms fire by guards armed with some kind of laser weaponry that fire red beams of heat at us. Anticipating it, my friends already fire back and use what little cover we have in the Humvee to clear out the guards. Seeing that the Humvee is on fire, I tell them to get out, and we manage to just get out as it blows up.

“There goes our only sure way out of here,” I say.

“I wouldn’t mind using one of the helicopters to get out of here if they have any left,” Kelly says.

“Do you even know how to fly one?” Al asks.

“I can try.”

“We’ll worry about that when the time comes. Let’s head into the underground,” I say.

Going to the elevator, we see that it’s locked down. We blow up the doors and then rappel down.

“Did you see those laser weapons? There have to be aliens here! I just wish I didn’t blow them up so I could take one home with me. I hope they have more below,” Kelly says.

“Focus, Rosebud,” I say.

“Yes, sir. This is the best time I’ve ever had in my life!”

Reaching the bottom, we cut through the elevator, blow open the doors, and are met with more resistance, armed with laser weapons. Not wanting to take half-measures, Kelly and Al use the last of the explosives we have on them, letting us easily clear them out. Moving forward, we’re surprised to not find any more guards and just find scientists running away from us.

“Is that really it? No more guards?” Kelly asks.

“You tell me. We just faced a swarm of aircraft, snipers, tanks, and two groups of guards with laser weapons. I hope that was all of them,” I say.

“Yeah, but where are the…aliens…”

Turning a corner, we find a testing and experimentation area filled with people in cages, restrained patients having surgery done on them by machines, and people in tubes, some of which look like full-fledged stereotypical aliens with big heads, black eyes, and grey skin.

“Woah. Do you know what this means?” Al asks.

“They’re turning people into aliens!” Kelly says.

“No. They’re making people look like aliens. Don’t you see how artificial this all looks?” Suzuki says.

“Eh, kind of. Let’s find proof to see who’s right.”

“There are a lot of shipping manifestos and written journals here out here in the open,” Al says.

“Who can blame them for just leaving it out? We got through a lot of security to get here,” I say.

We fan out and collect all the information we can, much of it having the dragon emblem on them, and mentioning the name Paradox Collective and The Malefic. We also find receipts and agreements with the Slav Federation and Zeitloses Imperium to ship slaves and researchers from their concentration camps over to this facility. Additionally, we find blueprints for different kinds of UFOs and plans to use them and the experimented-on people to make people think aliens are real at certain times to get their minds off of important events in the world. Before we can delve deeper into the files, we hear an alarm saying that the self-destruct sequence has been activated.

“They even have a self-destruct button. These people really are cartoon villains,” Kelly says.

“Let’s hurry and get out of here!” I say.

We run through the facility, going in the direction of the researchers, and find them boarding a subway train. Forcing our way onto the train, the scientists hold up their hands and speak broken English at us.

“You think these people will face justice, given their background and probable government protection?” I ask.

“They won’t, or they’ll be killed anyway,” Al says.

“We’ll be the arm of justice then,” Suzuki says.

“Agreed.”

“Can’t argue with you there,” Kelly says.

The four of us fire into the group of scientists as we make our way to the front. Meanwhile, the facility behind us has exploded. The flames of the explosion are starting to consume the train, so we keep pushing through the scientists, making sure the flames consume them as we make our way to the front. By the time we get to the front, there’s no one left in the train but us, and yet the flames are still catching up to us. To gain more speed, we detach the other trains from us and crank up the acceleration crank.

We hold on as the train escapes the flames, plunges through the concrete wall, hits another train, and then our train flies out of a tunnel and lands on the city streets of the Jewel of the Desert, Sin City.

Stumbling out of the train, I ask, “Is everyone okay?”

“I’m beat up, but I’ll survive,” Suzuki says.

“I could use a drink or several after all that,” Kelly says.

“I second that,” Al says.

“We can’t hang around here. Let’s move.”

My friends and I find a dark alley in the city to change clothes, just as the authorities arrive on the scene. We find a hotel to hide out in and inform the Hydra Roundtable of our success. We pass off the bags of receipts, journals, shipping manifestos, and more to a courier of theirs, receive our payment, and use it to enjoy our time in the city, eating, drinking, and gambling. After all we’ve been through, we more than deserve it.