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.