Good Criminals and Good Fridays: Chapter 2 – My War for Family

Chapter 2 – My War for Family

The gangs of the North City and South City mobilize to protect their homes as we await the arrival of the enforcers. This day was bound to happen. Recent events such as the framing of a traditionalist movement for an assassination attempt and their retaliation against the country and media that wanted them dead have shown that Old America is doubling down on extinguishing all groups that fight against its current ideals. Ever since the previous president and his cohorts were killed by a sheriff and those who allied with him, America has been at civil war for the past couple of years and split apart with some states seceding from the union. Old America sends out enforcers to keep states under its control though they haven’t always been successful, especially with cities like mine that have already prepared to separate themselves and are self-sustaining.

We get our food from rural farms and distributors outside of the city and the places that generate power for it is staffed by our family or people who are sympathetic to our cause or at least hate us less than Old America. Thanks to them we’ve been able to keep food coming into our communities and power flowing through our houses. Our secret supply of guns that have been coming through with our food trucks has also been safe, which is great because we need more guns, ammo, heavy weaponry, and explosives now more than ever as we await the arrival of the enforcers. Lincoln and I help load up the weapons at a fortified spot where our informants in the police force told them to go. This warehouse is an actual spot where our guns go before they are sold in the basements of our restaurants, so the story has the sound of truth to it, but it's also in a spot of the city along the Delaware that we know the ins and outs of, trapped, and has been ready for the arrival of the feds ever since it came under our control.

While we help out, we watch some of the volunteers go through our simple ceremony to join our family by writing down their sins and shameful deeds on a piece of paper before burning it and saying a small responsive prayer, and being blessed by holy water. Lincoln’s men are also here helping out and talking with one another since this is probably the first time in forever that we’ve done something like this together.

“And here I thought your little induction ceremony was a little more cultish by burning a picture of a saint,” Lincoln says.

“That’s an old mob tradition and it’s sacrilegious, so we don’t do that. Do you have any kind of induction ceremony for your family?” I ask.

“We swear on a Bible, but they’re not a member of my family afterward. They just become a deeper member of the North City community.”

“Oh, my bad. In South City, everyone who isn’t against us is considered family.”

“Why’s that? Another thing you got from the old mob?”

“No, it’s just our own philosophy. The only difference between friends, neighbors, and family is blood relations. What is a family member other than a person who cares for you, looks out for you, and has your best interests at heart? It’s what my parents taught me.”

“I guess your parents had a point. I can’t really argue with you. Mine taught me to put others and what’s right over my personal happiness. My dad showed he believed that by giving his life in more ways than one and so did my mom, but at least she’s still alive.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“That depends on who you ask.”

“What do you mean?”

“For her, she wants to fight until her dying breath and it kills her that she’s out in the suburbs being taken care of in an elderly home overseen by friends of our community. The only reason why she agreed to it is because she’s in a place that isn’t owned by Old America, she knows she can’t do much else besides inspire people to fight and stand up for their rights, and she also knows that it would be better if she was alive than dead. Your speech reminded me of my dad said that life is nothing more than a daily struggle for what you love.”

“That’s true.”

“How do you see yourself spending the last years of your life? Like I said before, I’d want to settle down. It has to be somewhere nice and quiet away from the politics of the world where I can enjoy the fruits of my labor and the company of my community.”

“I want the same thing very much. I’d like to stay here in the city and maybe run a bakery like my dad did.”

“It’s going to be a while before this place becomes nice and quiet.”

“Well, just like my parents before me, I’ll give my life to make that happen. Honestly, there’s a part of me that wants to forget everything here and move to one of those quieter rogue states with my family, but I can’t do that. I wouldn’t want to disappoint God and my family by running away from what I’m meant to do.”

“I agree with you on that. Here’s hoping that we can live to see the quiet life.”

“Yeah…”

I doubt it will happen. Still, it would be wrong to give up hope on that dream that seems so impossible to achieve at this moment. Perhaps after we drive away the enforcers and set up the next generation to pick up where we left off, we can live the quiet life we both want.

“Boss, they’re almost here,” a family member says.

“Let’s rock and roll, boys and girls, and show them what brotherly love really is like,” I say before Lincoln and I take our spots on the top floor of the warehouse.

Both Lincoln and I are on sniper duty while we coordinate our forces. We are equipped with antitank rifles made for us by my gunsmith cousins. In the distance, at least five or so heavily armored enforcer trucks are headed our way aided by ten normal police cars.

“They’re pulling out all the stops for us, aren’t they?” Lincoln asks.

“There’s probably more besides these,” I say.

“I’d be insulted if there weren’t. Want to bet on who gets the most kills?”

“No. It wouldn’t be fair since I’d win.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Show me what you got then, pinstripe.”

Once the feds get close enough, we blow up the old cars that are parked on the sidewalk to get rid of some of the police cars and damage the enforcer trucks. Lincoln and I then use our rifles to shoot the drivers of the cars in front of the enforcers. This causes the cars to crash, however, the trucks are hardly phased by this and just drive through the car wrecks. We shift our focus to shoot at the drivers of the trucks, which have enforced windows that take a couple of shots to break through before we can hit the driver. Even after managing to cause a couple of more car accidents, the enforcers are relatively unphased by the crash and come out shooting.

What’s particularly difficult about taking on enforcers is their cybernetics. All are equipped with a cybernetic eye to allow them to see and aim better and any other additions such as metal arms, legs, bodies, and heads are up to them to get depending on how experienced or rich they are. They are also wearing armor in addition to their cybernetics that’s not completely bulletproof, but it still takes at least a couple of shots to put them down. They steadily advance towards us as we thin out their numbers and they thin out ours.

“How many are you at now?” I ask.

“Twenty. You?” Lincoln says.

“Twenty-two.”

“That’s a lie. You’re just saying that to sound ahead of me.”

“Not really. I’ve been focusing on taking down as many as possible and not so much on the actual counting. I want to get this done sooner rather than later so more lives of my family will be spared.”

“If that’s true, then keep shooting and stop talking.”

I brought up our count so that Lincoln would be pushed to do better and this battle can end sooner. Reinforcements for the feds come in and push our men back to the warehouse itself. Smoke and covering fire from us help our frontline troops retreat back to us as the enforcers keep coming. Soon after more police cars show up.

“There are already more reinforcements? Looks like we’re going to be here all day,” Lincoln says.

After checking with my family members, I say, “Those are our reinforcements that we’ve been waiting for, so watch who you shoot at. Just take care of the feds at the door and pretend you’re shooting at the incoming cops.”

We clear out the feds in front of us and pretend to shoot at our own men. Eventually, they turn on the feds they are with to take care of the last of them. Our men celebrate our victory. Lincoln and I go down to thank every one of them including the officers that helped us finish the fight.

“Alright, alright. We may have won here, but we still have family and friends out there that need help in other parts of the city so let’s get moving,” I say before everyone gets back to work.

“I’m surprised there are still officers who are on our side and not dogs of the state,” Lincoln says.

“Don’t you have any allies in the police department in the North City?”

“Hardly. Most of them are ex-cops. After the leaders of the city and nearby universities kept renovating and pushing out the poor people of the old North City, crime went down and fewer police were needed, especially after a greater focus was put on protecting the Center City. Speaking of it, it should be our next target.”

“You’re right. The city has been under the control of the remnants of Old America for too long.”

The Center City has always been a target on my mind. Its looming buildings tower over the older structures in the rest of the city and block out the sun in some places, and its walls with checkpoints keep out whoever they deem acceptable. It’s also the only place in the city where flying cars can be found that are driven by the ultra-rich while the poor live in cramped apartments and the smaller undercity that lies underneath the ground. I know that people from the Center City think that the North and South Cities are lawless places where criminals rule, and it must seem unquestionably true to them. The irony must be lost on them since their so called democratically elected leaders have higher taxes and force their ideology on them more than we do here. At least we won’t put you in jail for thinking differently over here whereas you could be murdered for thinking and teaching differently and the authorities would reward your murderer and act as if they were doing their civic duty.

Talking with the officers I know and my contacts in the Center City, we formulate a plan to get our foot in the door. A straight up assault isn’t the best idea because of the Center City’s defenses. Stupid as they may be, the civilians there are still somewhat innocent and their lives should be spared, so brute forcing our way through isn’t an option either. I doubt they would be able to fight against us since the second amendment is all but illegal in Old America.

“I say we hijack the digital advertisements, send the message that we’re coming, and have the people on the other side give us an opening or at least a distraction for us so we can enter,” Lincoln suggests.

“Do you really think they’d risk their lives to help us overthrow their leaders? There’s a reason why neither of us has been able to establish a strong foothold in that part of the city,” I say.

“In light of recent events, they may change their mind. Don’t forget that we also have protesters outside their walls and influencers inside of it that have been changing minds. These people are on edge about the ‘criminals’ around them about to take over and it’s not like they would die for their leaders. Trust in government has been falling over the years and all they need is a little push to get them to turn on them completely. If this doesn’t work, then we at least get them scared, so they make more mistakes.”

“Okay, let’s try it then. Where can we find the place the digital advertisements are controlled from? Do we need someone to hack it from the outside or inside?”

“It’s controlled in a place outside the city. A hacker’s connection can’t reach from here. We’ll have to go in ourselves,” one of the officers says.

“Let’s go out then and put our faces on the big screen, boys.”

“What do you want to do about the guards and civilians there?”

“We’ll use our standard procedure for taking over places. First, we’ll ask nicely. If that doesn’t work, then we break a couple of hands, legs, whatever we need to.”

Lincoln and the officers agree and we take about a thirty minute drive out to the streaming station. From the outside, you wouldn’t be able to tell it’s another other than a warehouse surrounded by barbed wired gates that’s a little further from the others. Outside the gates are armed guards that are listening to the news of what’s happening in the city from one phone. With our guns drawn, we casually approach the gate.

“Good evening, boys. Have you heard the good news?” I ask.

The guards raise their hands. One says, “We’ve heard about what you’ve been doing.”

“Beautiful, isn’t it? It’s like an old fashioned American revolution and I suggest you join it or stand aside.”

“An American revolution? Do you really think you’re doing the right thing?”

“I wouldn’t be putting my life in danger if I didn’t. I’m doing you a favor here by giving you a choice and not shooting you on sight. What’s it going to be?”

Looking at each other, the guards move aside while one opens the gate with his key. More guards come out with their guns drawn.

“Why did you let them through?!” one of the guards says to the ones that let us through.

“What better option did we have? To die for a country we don’t care for and that also doesn’t care about us?” the guard answers.

This answer causes the other guards to talk among themselves and argue about what to do.

“So, you’d let these criminals do what they want?”

“We let the criminals in our government do what they want without question. At least these ones are honest and believe in what they preach by putting their lives on the line. Can you say the same about our leaders?”

After some more talking, the guards begin to lower their guns one by one and let us through. Even though it seems like they’re changed sides, we still disarm them and keep our guns on them just in case they’re trying to trick us. The men of Old America aren’t exactly known to be mostly honest or moral after all. Further inside the warehouse, we find a streaming center controlled by some people working on the computers and servers. Seeing that we have the guards behind us, they don’t ask questions and let us do what we want.

Once everything is set up, I give Lincoln the mic, and say, “Since this was your plan, do you want to do the honors?”

“Gladly,” Lincoln says while taking the mic. The stream starts and all the advertising spots in the Center City start showing Lincoln’s face. “Good evening, Old America. The people of the North and South Cities are fighting together for the freedom we deserve. For those who live in fear, we will soon overthrow your leaders and break the chains that bind you. For those who oppress the innocent, corrupt them in your schools, and jail those who don’t think as you do, your just rewards are moments away from coming to you. It is said that we are the death of America and this is true. Old America will soon die and from its grave, a new one will be born free from the corruption that once enslaved its people and kept the wicked in power. If you can fight, then fight with us and you will have our support and the reward of a better country to live in. If not, then stay out of our way. This is your only warning. Make your choice.”

We cut the video feed.

“Good job. How did your fifteen minutes of fame feel?” I say.

“Damn good. I can’t wait to see what happens because of it.”

“Me too. For now, let’s get back, see what happens, and plan our next move from there.”