Virtue Among Thieves: Chapter 1 – The Fate of Traitors

Chapter 1 – The Fate of Traitors

Four thieves in expensive suits and clown masks enter a bank and hold it up with high-powered silenced rifles. They shoot the guards, and then two of the thieves keep the civilians in one room, while the other two set up thermite to blow open the vault door. After getting through the door, the four thieves bag up as much cash as possible. The cops arrive just as they are exiting the vault. To push through the cops, the thieves use their underbarrel grenade launchers and flamethrowers to an exit.

The thieves exit the bank and run through the maze alleys of the city until we come out from the shadows and surround them at gunpoint. They’re surprised to see my three friends and me, who are dressed up and wearing masks like them, except we all look unique from one another. I have a plain black suit and tie with a clown mask that has the United Chimaera States flag on it; Kelly McGhee has a red tie and pink ringmaster-like suit, black skirt, and red boots, and has a clown mask with red pigtails; Al Jarrett wears a frilly butler-type suit with a creepy black mask with black strips near his eyes and mouth, and Suzuki Koyama wears a loose black suit with a visible thorny golden cross and a tiger mask with a revolver in its mouth. Looking at us, the thieves don’t immediately shoot at us, and instead, drop their bags of cash and slightly lower their weapons.

One of them asks, “Who are you?”

“Coworkers of the same organization,” I say.

“Yeah? Are we supposed to hand the bags to you, or do you have a way out for us? We need to act quick because the cops are coming. I thought groups weren’t supposed to be interfering with one another.”

“They are, unless you’re higher in rank, like we are,” Al says.

“I thought there was also a rule about not killing cops and keeping damage to a minimum. I’m also sure you’re not supposed to skim any money and merely complete the objective,” Kelly says.

“You, men, have caused more death and destruction than was called for,” Al says.

“Didn’t you read the rules? This dishonorable behavior of yours will result in a cut in your pay, at the very least,” Suzuki says.

“Don’t trust what these guys are saying,” one of the thieves says. “We didn’t choose to have any help with this job.”

“Yeah, but the job description did say to go down this alley to escape and drop off the goods,” another thief says.

“Who cares about the rules?” another thief says. “We’re thieves, criminals, murderers! We do what we want because we won’t let others tell us what to do.”

I shoot the outspoken thief in the face with my long pistol that’s loaded with rifle rounds, killing him.

“Act like that idiot, and you’ll suffer the same fate. Our organization is one of honor, loyalty, and respect. If you thought it was a den of scum and villainy, then you should’ve joined another group,” I say.

“Okay, okay! We’ll do better next time!” one thief says as he puts down his rifle and holds up his hands.

“Don’t do that! They’re going to kill us anyway!” another thief says.

“Idiot, if we wanted to do that, you would’ve been dead already,” Kelly says.

“This is your chance at redemption. Lay down your weapons and give yourselves up to the cops,” Suzuki says.

“What?! We’ll be sent to jail for life!”

“We’ll make sure you receive a lighter sentence if you cooperate and don’t rat on the organization,” Al says.

“Make your choice. Life or death,” I say.

After a few seconds, the other two thieves raise their guns, forcing us to kill them, while one of the thieves leaves his gun on the floor.

“There are always more dumbasses in the world than smart people,” Kelly says.

“You made the right choice. Remember what we said, and you won’t spend the rest of your life in jail,” I say as my friends and I retreat into the shadows.

We stick around to make sure the thief turns himself in to the police before leaving the area and going to a nearby parking lot where a SWAT truck is parked with two officers guarding it.

“How come they told us to park around here with a truck full of gear and outfits?” one of the officers asks.

“What? You don’t know?” the other officer asks.

“Why would I know?”

“Because I asked and they told me to ask you if I was curious.”

“They told me the same thing, but also said it wasn’t important.”

Before the officers can catch on to what’s happening, the four of us sneak up on them, knock them out, and put on the police gear, helmets, and masks to cover our identity.

I grab the radio, tune it to the frequency I was told, and say, “The boys are taking a name on the job.”

“Roger, clown boy. We’ll send some people there to get them up. Thank you for sparing them. You really are people of your word,” a distorted voice says.

Suzuki gets in the driver’s seat, while Kelly, Al, and I sit in the back. As Suzuki drives us to the site of our true job, I go over the plans and purpose of this job.

“Remember the faces we need to see and the faces of those we need to eliminate. They should be in their holding cells when we get there. As for the police chief, he should be on his break soon, so he should be taking a nap in his office,” I say.

“I remember the plan and have the layout of the station committed to memory. I’ll be backing you up while Al and Kelly go for the cameras and secondary objectives,” Suzuki says.

“I also have plan B in mind just in case things get fun,” Kelly says.

“Hopefully it won’t come to that, and it’ll all go smoothly. We have to be quick about getting to the cameras, eliminating our targets, and taking what we need before the police catch on to our presence,” Al says.

“What does it mean by getting anything strange off the chief of police?” Kelly asks.

“When we get there, we’ll find out. It’s a secondary objective, so it doesn’t matter as much,” I say.

“It’s a secondary objective that pays a lot, but sure.”

Driving to the police station’s parking lot, Suzuki shows his badge to a man at a security office, who lets us through. He parks in the center of the lot, and Suzuki and I go our separate ways with Al and Kelly. With the badges and security cards we were given, it’s easy for Suzuki and me to move through the police station with ease. No one bats an eye at us, especially with one of the favors we called in being a party that has most of the office workers and officers in the break room and the crime in the city controlled, so that most of the officers out there are on traffic duty. No expense was spared to get us into the police station to accomplish this job, given its importance.

Suzuki and I stand outside the holding cells, and I call over to Kelly using our personal radios and her codename. “Rosebud. How goes handling the paparazzi?”

“They’re about to have some technical difficulties in a second. There we go. You’re clear from their prying eyes, Cowboy,” Kelly says, using my codename as well.

Given the nature of our work, we need codenames to not expose our true identities. Suzuki and I go into the holding cells and to the particular ones that hold our targets, four thieves who are contacts in the police department, who say they’re going to expose our organization. Suzuki and I put silencers on our pistols and switch their non-lethal rounds with lethal rounds. Because of our help within the station, the only cell with prisoners in it is the one we need, so that no other prisoner snitches on what is happening.

“I figured something was up when I noticed we were the only ones here,” the traitor says.

“You have seconds to pray for forgiveness from God before we send you to Him,” I say.

“The Hydra Roundtable is-”

Suzuki and I shoot the four traitors like fish in a barrel after the mention of our organization. I then take a picture of their dead bodies as proof of us accomplishing this part of the job.

“She shouldn’t have wasted her breath, and should’ve prayed,” Suzuki says as he crosses himself.

“We’ll pray for them in their stead later,” I say as I cross myself as well. “Onto the next objective. The rats are dead, Cappuccino.”

“Excellent, Cowboy. We’re doing some cleaning here as well. We don’t need our name being besmirched by what they said,” Al says, referring to Kelly and him scrubbing the records of the Hydra Roundtable’s name.

Suzuki and I next head up to the chief of police’s office. It’s locked, but after a little lockpicking, I’m able to get in.

“Cover me,” I whisper.

Suzuki nods as he stays outside while I head in. Inside the office, the chief of police is knocked out, sitting at his desk. Our insider put a drug inside the chief’s coffee, and since they aren’t a big fan of his corrupt ways, has the chief’s hidden drugs out on the table so that his addiction is exposed once we leave. Searching through the chief’s pockets, I find a strange dragon emblem in the inside pocket of his jacket. The dragon is made of various black lines, has golden wings, a red-tipped tail, red horns, and teeth similar to those of a guinea pig. I’ve seen this same dragon emblem in the hands of other people. I wonder what secret organization these people are all a part of. Taking the emblem, I walk out of the office and leave the door open as we were told to by our insider and make our way to where Al and Kelly are.

Suzuki radios over to them, saying, “We got what we needed. Is everything good on your side?”

“Yes, Byakko. The goodies and transfers are secure,” Al says.

“Good. We’re coming over to help.”

Suzuki and I go over to Kelly and Al, who are transferring people, weapons, stolen goods, and other evidence from failed allies of the Hydra Collective. The people we are freeing have a black bag over their heads and cuffs on their arms as we take them back out to the SWAT truck. We do get questioned by an officer at the station, who we just tell that these prisoners and the associated items are being transferred to another location, and we show them fake papers to prove it. The officer accepts the explanation without really looking at the papers and leaves us alone. With everything and everyone in the SWAT truck, Suzuki drives us away from the police station and toward a Hydra Roundtable hideout.

We take the black bags off the prisoners' heads and uncuff them. They thank us, beg for their lives, apologizing profusely for their failure to get their job done.

“It’s okay,” I say. “You did your best, and you didn’t snitch, so you’re safe. You’ll just have to disappear for a while before doing anything else for the organization. Even though the records are scrubbed of you being there, it’s not like the cops that brought you in will easily forget about you.”

The prisoners thank us and thank God out loud.

“I heard there were unforeseen complications in your job.”

“Yes,” one of the prisoners says. “Security was tighter and their response time was faster than we imagined.”

“You were stealing from a street of jewelry stores,” Al says.

“Yes, but we’re used to it. For us it’s no different than a farmer picking his crops on a hot summer day, but on the day we got caught, it was like picking crops during a hurricane. I’m still surprised that the four of us were alive by the end of it.”

“Our bosses and their contacts will look into it. As for you four, just focus on your own safety and keeping your heads down until you’re called upon,” I say.

Suzuki drives us through a parking lot and down a long hallway with a garage door. The camera near the garage door flashes at us, and the gate opens. Inside, we park the SWAT truck, and people who are wearing various sorts of masks, such as animals, horror creatures, weird faces of real people, fictional characters, artistic designs, or plain colors, help us unload what we have and take them to their appropriate areas. As for the prisoners, they are taken away to get changed and given enough money to survive in secret. I’ve heard some prisoners who are rescued stay in this building for a year or more, helping the Hydra Roundtable’s operations in this building or being its guards. As for my friends and me, we are paid for a job well done.

To celebrate, we go to Kelly’s apartment to celebrate. She orders the best pizza and wings she knows of and brings out a cake she’s made herself. Her apartment is one of the upper-end ones with two floors to it. She’s decorated it with pictures and figures of her favorite cute animals, fictional anime characters, and horror movie clowns. She also has a flag of her home country of the Slav Federation in the apartment, plus pictures of her with her family and friends. News of what we did today at the bank and police station shows up on the news, and we toast to it, like we always do.

“Man, some of these middle-circle jobs are boring. They’re a little too simple for my tastes. When I first joined up, I thought these were going to be more exciting,” Kelly says.

“They were to begin with,” I say. “We did rob and blow up a bank, make the Slavs and Vorfahren fight each other, stop a human trafficking ring, and rob a casino and give its money to the gamblers.”

“Yeah, but nowadays, it’s just go here, check on these other groups, kill such and such people, rob these and that people. It’s all very meh.”

“You better be careful what you wish for. You might get more than you expect,” Suzuki says.

“That’s exactly what I want! Challenge! Excitement! Punishing scum and giving them what they deserve and taking back what they don’t.”

“You Slavish people are always too chaotic.”

“You people from Tatsu are too honorable and by the books. Back me up here, Al.”

“I’m fine with either,” Al shrugs and says.

“What about you, Ace? I know you want to do more with these jobs, making up for your past working for predatory Israeli bank lenders and all.”

I say, “I prefer things to be quiet, but I do want to know more about the organization that we keep coming across, the one whose members have those dragon emblems we keep finding. I mean, even the chief of police is involved with them.”

“Eh. Probably a white collar crime group, given the other people we came across who have the dragon emblem,” Kelly says.

“Could be. They could also be our rivals since they keep arresting our members and trying to get them to expose our organization.”

“Well, I hope we can get back at them or their supporters in some way, rather than just doing the seemingly unrelated busy work we’ve been doing.”

“If God so wills it,” Suzuki says.

“Yeah, if God so wills it.”

My thoughts race as I wonder whether we’ve actually been doing unrelated busywork, since people with the dragon emblem keep coming up. I wonder if the Hydra Roundtable is specifically sending us to various towns, cities, and locations where this group might be operating. Finding the dragon emblems feels like it could be more than coincidence at this point. For now, I can only hope and pray that we resolve this situation with this seemingly rival criminal organization and simply enjoy my time with my friends, who are now all arguing about the best kind of pizza as if we’re all college-aged adults.