Shadows in Service of Light: Chapter 3 – Trading One Backstabber for Another

Chapter 3 – Trading One Backstabber for Another

Ever since we teamed up with the Adler army, we’ve been steamrolling the Slav Federation’s forces. With the Chimaera States’ supply of advanced weaponry from the West and Adler’s advanced mechanized tanks and helicopters and battle-hardened soldiers, the hastily retreating Slavs don’t stand much of a chance, especially now that our reinforcements from back home have arrived. We’re currently blitzing through Zubr, taking town after town and city after city on our way to the proper homeland of the Slavs. In the command center, Garnet is going over our plans with Eren and discussing our next course of action.

“If we send in a squad here to this base where they control their automated artillery and anti-air guns and hack into their systems, we can make quick work of the rest of their forces and take the city,” Garnet says.

“Their forces are still tired from the previous fight they were in, and the city is still recovering from the battle that the Slavs recently fought to take it. Why bother sneaking around when we can send in a bombardment and then finish off the rest?” Eren argues.

“I’m not saying it won’t work, but I am saying it’ll save our tanks, aircraft, and men from unneeded casualties. We need as many resources as possible if we want to take Slavengrad and permanently take it over.”

Eren talks over the plan with his advisors in his language and then looks at Garnet.

He sighs and says, “You should count yourself blessed that my advisors agree with you. They think we’ll get to Slavengrad in our supreme leader’s time frame if we do as you say.”

“Good. I’ll be going in there with my two fellow agents to take care of this, and radio over to you when the base is captured.”

“I think I’d like to go with you.”

“Why’s that?”

“Consider it a trust-building exercise. I know we’ve been fighting on the same battlefield together, but I’d like to do something more personal. I’d also like your gas mask friend to stay behind and only join us when the battle properly begins.”

Looking over to Bezalel, he says, “I’ll leave that up to you, Garnet. Draco and you are more subtle than I am.”

“If it’ll make you trust us more, then I don’t see why not,” Garnet says to Eren.

“Wonderful! Let’s get our gear and head out. We’re losing valuable time as is.”

From the armory, Garnet, Eren, and I pick out our gear. We wear light body armor and black bodysuits that cover our entire bodies, and the weapons we pick are specialty silenced pistols and tools that Vorfahren has been using to break into hard-to-get-into buildings during their takeover of Adler and expunging their political and spiritual enemies from the country. I must say that the tools are slightly more advanced than my own from the SIB and impressive in how useful they are, despite their small size. With our gear, the three of us head to the city’s borders and enter a series of tunnels Garnet found through her research.

Eren asks, “How exactly did you find these?”

“I researched the country’s and city’s history of conflict. This part of Eastern Proavus has been under constant conflict since the Middle Ages, so tunnels under towns and cities exist everywhere. As for the exact map, well, that’s an SIB secret,” Garnet says as we make our way through the dark tunnels.

These tunnels are old, yet they have seemingly new beams of steel and stone so they don’t collapse. There are also cultural, religious, and personal markings left all over them by those who used them.

“Your SIB is similar to our own secretive agency in Adler. Perhaps I can arrange for your agencies to exchange trade secrets.”

“Why? So you can root out more Israelis from your country?” I ask.

“It’s more than that,” Eren says. “We’re expunging all sorts of enemies from different ideologies that have ruined our country. Israelis are just one of the more guilty ideologies.”

“We’ll think about the offer,” Garnet says.

“We’ll see what the president says,” I correct.

“Consideration of my offer is all I ask.”

Now further in the tunnel, Garnet brings us to an unlit torch. Pulling it down, the torch acts like a lever, and a part of the stone wall moves aside, revealing a steel door with a padlock, eye scanner, and card scanner, all of which look like they need to be used to access what’s behind it.

“Such complicated nonsense to protect something so simple. Here, let me open it,” Eren says.

Garnet moves aside and takes out his multitool that Adler has invented. He activates its knife function that he stabs into the card scanner, taps some buttons on the multitool, and the door opens. Eren opens the door for us with a bow, and we go through. We’re now in the basement of the base we wanted to be in, but for the first couple of floors, it doesn’t look like one. Instead, the bottom floor is a refrigerated food storage room, and the second is filled with the injured and civilian families.

Figuring out what to do in the corner of the food storage room, I say, “We’re not killing them.”

“Of course not. We’ll deal with them later. For now, we’ll lock the door on our way out so they don’t bother us during the battle,” Eren says.

Not bothering to ask what Eren means by dealing with them later, Garnet and I agree, then sneak through the dimly lit rooms with failing electricity, lock the door behind us with Eren's multitool, and burn it shut. The noise draws soldiers guarding the base, who come to investigate what we did, only to be ambushed by us from the dark corners of the room. We move through the rest of the building, using our guns and knives to dispatch the soldiers a few at a time, and use Eren’s multitool to reach the emergency stairs to hasten our ascent to the base’s command center. Once at the top, we eliminate the Slav guards and commanders in the command center, and Garnet gets to work orienting the anti-air and artillery systems to targets that suit us. As she’s doing it, Eren tells his forces, and I tell mine, to start the assault on the city.

The base’s defensive systems start blowing apart the fortified locations in the city, the helicopters, and the positions where tanks are set up. Because of what’s happening, the base’s soldiers have finally caught on that we’re here, and they start coming at us. We add components to our pistol to make it a submachine gun and start going back the way we came to get around them. Continuing through the building, we move as fast as possible so we can head out the door and meet with our forces. We’re able to easily take the city, thanks to Garnet’s plans, and drive the Slavs out. Now, going back to Eren’s concern about dealing with the sick and civilians, the Adler soldiers bring them out and yell at them in their language, ordering some to go one way and others to go inside a series of trucks.

Asking him about this, Garnet says, “What are you doing? Are you directing your people, directing them to your camps and forced labor in the city?”

“So what if we are? These people aren’t going to willingly let us take their land, even if we’re taking it from their conquerors,” Eren says.

“You know you would’ve gotten more support from us if you didn’t force people into death camps, reeducation camps, and forced labor like the Slavs do.”

“That’s one area where we agree with the methods of our enemy. Countries outside of Adler and Eastern Proavus criticize us for persecuting the Israelis, but the Slav Federation has done the same in their territory for much the same reason. What differentiates us is that we’ve made our people proud of their heritage and bloodline, and we didn’t remove the corrupt from power only to be corrupt in power ourselves. Instead, we use power to oppress those who deserve it.”

Before I can say anything, sounds of gunfire and explosions erupt. Across our radio, we hear Adler soldiers talking about a resistance force of civilians rebelling against the Adler soldiers and shooting at them as they retreat from the city.

“See what I mean? Do you want us to let them go, or is it a war crime to kill those who shoot at you?” Eren asks.

“Do you think they’ll continue to be a threat to us if you let them go? Is this civilian population of oppressed people deserving of more oppression from new masters?” I ask.

“First, do you think they’ll just hide in the shadows and keep to themselves while they have the means and reasons for fighting back at us? Second, allowing violent rebellion is no way for this country to know peace and coexistence with us. That is why all pockets of rebellion, no matter how small, new, or seemingly insignificant, must be snuffed out for the sake of both peoples. Failure to help us eliminate them will nullify our alliance. Do you understand?”

Looking at Eren dead in the eyes, I say, “I understand.”

“Good. We’ll handle them personally, so that I know that you do.”

Driving out on armored-plated Adler motorcycles, Garnet, Eren, and I join a small group of other Adler soldiers driving the same motorcycles after the fleeing civilians. We catch up to them and use the motorcycle’s mounted machine guns to make the fleeing vehicles crash. Getting off our motorcycles, we investigate the crash to find dead and injured civilians. The Adler soldiers point their guns at them, and Eren tells them to kill them when Garnet and I fire.

“Draco,” Garnet says as she looks at me.

Looking at the civilians who are begging for their lives, I close my eyes for a second, pray to God for an answer, and open my eyes just in time to see a civilian reach for a gun, so I fire at the civilians, followed by Garnet and the rest of the Adler soldiers.

“So, you foreigners do care for your lives. See? These people are willing to make the hard decision for the sake of peace,” Eren says before commanding his troops to go back to the city.

Garnet looks at me judgmentally, and I don’t have the strength to meet her eyes. In fact, my eyes are downcast and stuck with the image of the civilians, unable to be rubbed, blinked, or prayed away. Back in the city, the Adler soldiers have their customary small celebration with beer and sausages served to everyone. Garnet and Bezalel sit with me at our table, and Garnet still stares daggers at me.

“You still didn’t explain to me what happened,” Bezalel says.

“We shot Zubr civilians, after they fled capture from the Adler soldiers,” Garnet bluntly says.

“I saw one of them reaching for a gun,” I say as if to justify it.

“No, you didn’t. You imagined it,” Garnet says.

“I swear I saw it!”

Eren comes over with his beer and plate of Adler sausages, and sits with us. He says, “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. You should be celebrating our victory and leaving the past in the past.”

“You people may have made yourselves numb to civilian execution and excused yourselves by saying it was for peace or they were resisting arrest, but we don’t do that, or at least, I don’t,” Garnet says.

“If they actually were reaching for a gun or not doesn’t matter. I feel for you and understand how you do. I really do.”

“Really?” Garnet says with a bit of sass.

“Yes, I do. It’s why I didn’t execute the young Middle Easterners you knocked out and shipped off to your country. When the Vorfahren movement was first starting in Adler, we let civilians leave our country or wherever they wanted to go, but then they started attacking our soldiers, our people, and corrupted others to do the same. It’s like with the Middle Easterners who thought they had the upper hand over you when they told us about your deal with them, which we already knew. They were just a band of men, civilians who had loosened themselves from the bonds of order, and caused chaos across the country for the sake of themselves and false faith. Bezalel, I know you must feel the same way I do and knew that they were going to betray you.”

“I did,” Bezalel admits. “We later found their plans written on paper about flying planes into important buildings in our country and did have a hand in the human trafficking ring we recently fought against. I have no problem shooting anyone of any status or background if they deserve it. Let’s just leave it at that.”

“See? Your friend agrees with me. Draco, you’ve also stopped having those nightmares about those children, didn’t you?”

“You’re right. I’ve stopped having those nightmares,” I admit.

“In our culture, it’s a sign that you did what God wanted you to.”

“I’ve had enough of this. You men are ridiculous,” Garnet says as she slams her hands on the table, gets up, and walks away.

I can’t blame her for walking away. I’ll talk to her later when she’s cooled down, and I feel a little dirty for continuing to sit down and make conversation with Eren. It’s like talking to the Devil who relates to my suffering, knows what I want to hear, and is trying to justify my actions and thoughts and pushes me to continue in them. God, I hope and pray we’re doing the right thing.

Shadows in Service of Light: Chapter 2 – Two-Faced Allies

Chapter 2 – Two-Faced Allies

A few weeks have passed. They've been mostly victories, with a few defeats here and there. Bezalel blames it on the Middle Easterners being too gun-ho and emboldened by their recent victories, the power given to them by our military, and pride in their virtue. In contrast, the Middle Easterners blame their defeats on the devil and sometimes us, but that excuse gets less and less relevant the more of our soldiers from the Chimaera States die off. We can’t bring too many of our soldiers here, given they need to be trusted not to say anything about the operation, and they need to be snuck in under the radar, forcing our planes to take long routes to avoid detection. Additionally, the Zeitloses Imperium, led by Adler, one of the founders of the radically traditional ideology, Von Menschen und Vorfahren, is on the move against the Slav Federation.

The supreme leader of Adler has told the world that it has declared war against the Slav Federation because of its hostile actions against other countries, despite also being guilty of the same thing and already being in a cold conflict with them over the years. With the way things are going, we’ll be coming across the forces of the Imperium, which is another problem we’ll have to deal with. Bringing this up to our Middle Eastern allies, they say they aren’t concerned at all.

“They were our allies for a short time, helping us rid the land of Israelis to better secure our home for our people from those who would corrupt it with usury and conspiracy. I know your country doesn’t have a good relationship with them or the practitioners of the Vorfahren ideology. Will there be a problem when we come across them?” the Middle Eastern leader says.

“They shouldn’t be able to identify us just by looking at us. As long as no one says anything that suggests otherwise, we should be fine, hiding in plain sight,” I say.

“The people of the States should learn to get along with them. They may be pagans, but at least their hatred of the usurious pigs is a virtuous one. In fact, I suggest that I send some of my people to your country to help you with that after the Slavs are gone from our home.”

“Speaking of that last part, would you like to do the honors in starting this next battle?”

“Ah! I thought you’d never ask.”

Following the Middle Eastern leader, his advisors, and his guards, we make our way to a balcony of the palace that overlooks the town we’re in. He gives a speech in his language to his hundreds of followers below as enemy helicopters, tanks, and soldiers approach us from a distance. After his speech, Garnet hands him a tablet; he presses it, and a barrage of missiles hits the enemy, obliterating them and leaving nothing but fire and destruction where the enemy once stood. The crowd is even more excited than it was before as it charges out from the town and across the border into the Slav Federation’s territory.

“Will you be taking part in this battle? There will be heavier resistance than usual,” Garnet says.

“Of course I will. A true leader leads from the front. You can stay here and ‘coordinate’ our forces, like you usually do,” the Middle Eastern leader says.

“Yes, sir.”

“Come, men. Let us slaughter the Slavs here before we do the same in their home country.”

Following the Middle Eastern leader and his allies, we enter an armored luxury car that has the stink of someone partying in it. Even Bezalel, with his gas mask, seems bothered by it. The luxury car drives with the military trucks, Humvees, and tanks toward the border between countries as helicopters from both sides collide and artillery bombs the battlefield. The soldiers and vehicles on the battlefield are blown up and destroyed by falling helicopters from the sky. We’re barely able to drive into the enemy town before our car is blown up by a rocket launcher from one of the buildings.

“You failed…again,” I hear a distorted voice say.

No…no, God, give me strength. Let me succeed in doing the task you’ve set for me.

“Yet, you continue to allow one evil to exist so that another may be defeated. You know that both should die, but you partner with one anyway for the so-called sake of the greater good, when what you and your allies want is an easier solution to your problems.”

That’ll be over soon. It’s only temporary.

“So is your life, and yet you act like you have time.”

“We don’t have time to sleep, Draco! Get up!”

Bezalel is yelling and slapping me as we take cover in a small building with our temporary Middle Eastern allies. I grab the rifle he gives me and immediately join the fight. We’re surrounded by Slavs hitting us from all directions, and yet I don’t feel scared, nor do I care to stay in cover for long. Maybe it’s because of what I heard while I was blacked out, but I’m aiming and taking down targets faster than I usually do, impressing even those who are supposed to be my enemies. The rest of our forces arrive in town and push the Slavs surrounding us.

“Let’s move!” I say.

Using the cover provided by our allies, we press further into the town. Our tanks are blowing up the Slav artillery and the buildings they used as cover. Meanwhile, we join the infantry to clear the streets and the destroyed buildings still filled with enemies. In one such building, I rush through it, popping heads one after the other, switching from my rifle to my pistol, and then cutting the throats of three soldiers with my knife after I run out of ammo.

As I’m reloading my guns, the Middle Eastern leader says, “An Angel of Vengeance must be possessing you. I’ve never seen you or anyone from your country fight this well.”

“You could say that,” I say.

“The Slavs are making a last stand in the town’s palace tower over there in the center. We have it surrounded and are ready to finish this fight,” Bezalel says.

“It is a monument to their sins. I don’t care what happens to it, despite admitting it’s a beautiful structure. Let us bring it down on top of them,” the Middle Eastern leader says.

Bezalel and I reluctantly agree, head out to join the rest of our forces, and relay the leader’s order. Taking rocket launchers from their troops and aiming at the building with their tanks, the Middle Eastern soldiers and their leaders fire rockets at the Slav-built tower, bringing it down. The tower falls on the buildings beside it and kicks up an explosion of dirt and debris into the air. The Middle Easterners cheer and fire their guns into the air in victory, and start singing one of their prayers in their language.

“We have remaining Slav politicians and guards fleeing the town, but be cautious of Adler troops moving in,” Garnet says on the radio.

“We’ll head back to base. Our fight here is done,” I say.

“But the war is not yet finished. Come, my friends. There is still much justice that needs to be done upon the godless Slavs,” the Middle Eastern leader says.

“The deal was to push the Slavs out of your home country. They’re out, and now you have a town in their territory. As far as we’re concerned, we fulfilled our deal, and we can go our separate ways.”

“Let me speak to your president or one of your military leaders. Perhaps something can be arranged to grant us further support.”

“I speak for President Campione. This is what he ordered me to do.”

“How about this. If you don’t help us defeat the fleeing Slavs and hear me out about obtaining more support from your country, I may tell the Adler troops of our secret arrangement.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Bezalel says.

“Would I? If another country knew of your involvement, it would draw yours into the Second Great War that’s happening on this side of the world. You better make sure I don’t say anything.”

Bezalel looks at me, and I say, “Okay, fine. We’ll help you and then hear you out.”

“Thank you, my friend.”

Our so-called allies, Bezalel and I, take an armored truck out to meet the retreating Slavs, and since there’s only one group of people on foot, we don’t need backup. In fact, by the time we reach the Slavs, they’re already being killed by the Adler troops.

“Adler’s troops have already taken care of the retreating soldiers. Let’s go back,” I say.

“Hold on. I think I recognize a few friends from my time working with Adler. Let’s go say hi and thank them for their assistance,” the Middle Eastern leader says.

Not wanting to argue anymore, Bezalel and I join the Middle Easterners and walk with them to talk to the Adler troops, who are wearing their usual black and red military outfits, steel helmets and boots, and wielding heavy assault rifles and pistols. The Adler troops are backed up by other men in armored troop trucks and a few tanks in their rear. When the two groups meet, they talk as if they do recognize one another, as they hug and catch each other up on their personal lives and shared past, bringing up their time together driving the Israelis out of the Middle East and thanking them for their help in dealing with the Slavs.

“Who are those two with you? I don’t recognize them, and they don’t look like they’re from around here,” an Adler officer says. “I heard you had help from outside your country. Are they mercenaries or good Samaritans?”

The Middle Eastern leader smiles and says, “I have already told you. They’re troops from the Chimaera States.”

“Hey, we had a deal!” Bezalel says.

“Emphasis on had. As you said, our deal is done, so let us strike a new one, or else my friend here will report back what he knows to his leaders.”

“You-fuck this, I’m tired of all this pretending. Can we get this over with?”

Confused, the Middle Easterners look at the Adler troops and us before they are shot and killed by them.

Bezalel says, “I was hoping that you’d show up early so that-”

“So what? That you can betray us as you did with them? We know of your country’s hostilities toward us and our ideology. Do not pretend that our alliance is anything more than temporary friendship,” the Adler officer says.

“We won’t pretend. You won’t be betrayed or caught by surprise like these Middle Easterners. Once Slavengrad is taken, we’ll go our separate ways, and an official alliance will be made between my president and your leader,” I say.

“Really? Is a true alliance your goal with this little partnership we have?”

“We wouldn’t be putting our lives on the line if we were lying.”

“You were lying with these goat fuckers.”

“We weren’t. As he said, our deal was done, so we had no reason to pretend still to be friends with them, but with you, our friendship is just beginning.”

The Adler officer looks at me as if searching for signs of lying, and, seeing none, smiles and holds out his hand to be shaken.

I shake the officer’s hand. “May I know your name?”

“Draco Jung.”

“Eren Rommel, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Well, should we take care of our past friends?”

“I’ve been waiting for this,” Bezalel says.

“Yes.” I radio over to Garnet on a radio frequency only she and our troops from the Chimaera States can tune into. “Initiate protocol 2C614.”

“Amen,” Garnet says.

Going back to base with the Adler troops, we find them being blown up by the Chimaera State tanks and helicopters and being shot by those they once fought beside. The Adler tanks and troops back up our own, further adding to the chaos and confusion that the Middle Easterners are facing. Even as we enter the palace that Garnet is in, the Middle Easterners don’t immediately open fire on us until they see us killing their fellow soldiers. Continuing further into the palace, we encounter resistance from the sons and wives of the Middle Eastern leaders, who try to shoot us. Bezalel and I use non-lethal knockout rounds on them; however, the Adler soldiers kill them outright.

“What are you doing?!” I say.

“They raise their guns at us. They die,” Eren says.

“They’re just kids,” Bezalel says.

“You people from the States need to grow a spine. Indoctrinated children who are raised to kill are also raised to not be taken in alive by the enemy.”

Bezalel and I scoff, but we both know he’s right, given our time with the Middle Easterners, but still. At least the Adler soldiers don’t shoot the young people we knocked out. We find Garnet killing five Middle Easterners in a room where she was commanding both forces, with other bodies on the floor.

“I’ve been wanting to kill those pedophiles and sexists for a while. Are these our new friends?” Garnet asks.

“Yes,” I say.

The Adler forces introduce themselves to Garnet, and she merges our comms. With every Middle Eastern soldier and leader killed, we pack up our things, take the young Middle Easterners with us to be taken back to the States, and head out with the Adler soldiers to their base, where we make our introductions and then rest for the coming battles ahead with our new enemy to work with.

An author's edition of A Species Guilty of Adultery is out today!

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Unwilling to let their marriage fall to ruin, Zeke investigates the reason behind the death of his wife's first husband and child. They talk to familiar faces and find themselves in a situation they can't get out of, involving a hidden human trafficking ring and people they know.

This author's edition contains redone artwork by An_dres_art, Behind the Story trivia, and the original artwork made for the free eBook version found on books2read.

Shadows in Service of Light: Chapter 1 – Enemy of My Enemy and My Enemy

Chapter 1 – Enemy of My Enemy and My Enemy

I rush my way through a burning ship, shooting every criminal and getting shot in return in an attempt to save captive and abused children. In the depths of the ship, I hear gunshots and their screaming, so I run even faster to the source and shoot the criminals, only to find that I’m too late. Every child is dead on the floor, with one in particular grabbing my attention the most: a naked child filled with bullet holes and holding a burning, ruined teddy bear. A child rises from the pile of dead bodies, picks up a pistol from the floor, and puts it to her head.

“I can’t take it anymore…I can’t take it anymore…” the child says while crying.

For some reason, I’m frozen in place and unable to talk, and only able to move the second after the child pulls the trigger.

“You failed…again,” a distorted voice says.

Jolting awake, I find myself on a plane, remembering that the dream was nothing more than a nightmare inspired by what I’ve seen recently. Now fully awake, I see that I’m back in the plane I was in with my fellow SIB agents, Garnet Nox and Bezalel Lior. Garnet is a woman with brown hair in a ponytail, red-and-gold agent glasses, a green sweater with a dark pink flower in the center and an SIB agent pin on it, a red shirt, a dark green skirt, red pantyhose, and black heels. On the other hand, Bezalel is less formally dressed than usual, wearing his Great War gas mask, which he keeps on because of breathing problems, along with the brown military shirt, pants, and boots he wore during the war. He also has a robotic right arm, wears an SIB pin on his left shoulder, and carries a pouch belt bag across his chest.

“What’s wrong, Draco? Have another bad dream?” Garnet asks me.

“Yeah, and I’m hoping they stop soon,” I say as I cross myself and say a small prayer in my head.

“Are you still dreaming about that human trafficking syndicate? I’ve been having nothing but peaceful rest since then,” Bezalel asks as he peeks out from behind a book written by a saint that he’s reading.

“Yes, I’m still dreaming about it for some reason.”

“The only nightmarish thing that’s come about as a result of us bringing justice to the syndicate is the president selecting us to oversee this operation, helping the Middle East fight against the Slav Federation.”

“Give me a sec.”

I get up from my seat and walk to the bathroom.

“See? Even Draco is sick about this.”

“Bezalel.”

“What?”

Entering the bathroom, I take off my black-and-gold agent glasses, wash my face, and look at myself in the mirror. My black hair has a few more grays than it usually does, and my brown eyes are a dark green today. I make sure my yellow tie, black shirt, blue suit jacket, blue pants, and black shoes are wrinkle-free for today's meeting, then exit the bathroom. I sit down and try to relax again, keeping my mind on the task at hand. Our plan soon lands; we grab our things and meet our new, unlikely allies in a hangar, men dressed in white Middle Eastern garb and military gear provided by the United Chimaera States.

We smile at each other, greet one another, and bow, and then the leader of the group says, “Thank you, agents of Chimaera, for coming to our aid in our greatest time of need. I hope that this partnership not only strengthens the friendship between our nations, but between our faiths of the Suffering Church and the Submission Church.”

Speaking for my group, I say, “We have more in common with you than the Slavs and Vorfahren. Our unity will prove to the world that their seeming recent supremacy in Eastern and Western Proavus cannot spread everywhere, and their godless ideology is false and will be the damnation of them.”

“Truly, God will give them what they deserve. Would you like a tour of the base?”

“Yes, please.”

The Middle Eastern people we are working with are part of what we call the Church or Cult of the Pale Green Horse, or sometimes the Submission Church. They typically deal in war and forcing others to convert. During the talks to make this partnership work, they refused to work with anyone who was Israeli or from any faith other than their own and the Suffering Church, or Patiens Ecclesia, or the Catholic Church. The unity that we talk about is true in a superficial sort of way. We do not worship the same God as ignorant people think, and won’t get to the same afterlife by staying true to our faiths. The Suffering Church is the only true faith in the world, while the Israeli Church and Submission Church are perversions of the real truth.

As such, any partnership between the United Chimaera States and the Middle East is superficial and may come apart at any moment that our common enemies are destroyed, which we already have a plan for. The Middle Easterners tell us how thankful they are for our help as we walk around their base and see United Chimaera State soldiers training their soldiers and talking and joking with them as if they’re all part of the same army. This is all only to secure the Middle East and its resources against the Eastern Slav Federation, who have already conquered Zubr, or what was once known as Poland, and every other territory along the way to get to the Middle East. There’s no official declaration of war between the Chimaera States and the Slav Federation since the Chimaera States still have to make certain preparations before the so-called Second Great War can begin in earnest.

After giving us the full tour, the Middle Eastern leader asks, “From what I see, we are ready to bring death and justice to the Slavs, don’t you think?”

“I do. That’s why we chose to be here today. Let’s get our battle plans together before we move out.”

Before joining everyone in the battle room, we change into nondescript military armor and uniforms and hand our clothes, SIB pins, and badges to the pilot who flew us here. He then departs. No one must know that the Chimaera States were involved here. Not even the Chimaera State soldiers, their uniforms, body armor, weapons, or vehicles show any indication that they were supplied by their country of origin. The only way you’d know is if you had access to internal military or SIB records, and those are closely guarded by the most trusted in both departments. Today, with our arrival, we’ll be overseeing and taking part in the operations of the Middle Easterners and our troops as they fight together against the Slavs.

We’ve heard reports that they’ve been doing well together in small battles and hit-and-run operations, but today, they’ll be taking back one of their major cities and worship sites. The Middle Easterners want the Slav Federation to know that they and their country aren’t weak and conquered yet, so they plan a head-on assault. It’s their favorite tactic to use overwhelming force, if the option is open to them. I also know why they’re doing it. It’s to make sure that we’re on their side because if we just sat back and didn’t risk our necks, then they wouldn’t be helping us. As such, Bezalel and I are out on the front lines with the rest of the soldiers, while Garnet is on comms, updating everyone on the situation.

The leader of the Middle Easterners reminds me, “To die for another, and especially die for God, is the most honorable and noble way to die, especially when it’s in battle fighting for the sake of others and the truth of our belief.”

“Then it must disappoint you that we have copters and tanks backing us up,” Bezalel says.

“Not exactly. When we battle our enemies, it is more honorable and just to do it wisely rather than recklessly. God detests fools who uselessly throw away their lives without guaranteeing themselves a sure outcome. What disappoints me is hearing that your woman is giving us and our forces commands.”

“Garnet is a great tactician, and with all the planes that she has with cameras that show her what is happening, she’ll be keeping us updated on enemy movements and possible reinforcements,” I say.

“If anything, women are better as assassins in war, but if you people from the States have trained them to play with soldiers like pieces on a chessboard better than most men can, then I have to applaud you.”

One of the Middle Easterners jokes, “Women can be manipulative and controlling, so the Westerners may be onto something.”

Bezalel and I not so earnestly laugh along with them as we ride with them in a heavily armored truck into battle. Our truck stops, and we all rush out of it and into whatever cover we can as chaos ensues in the city. Helicopters rain bullets and missiles on our enemies, while tanks fire their shells from afar and get as close as they can to avoid hitting buildings and churches. Many of the Slavs are scrambling for cover as well and struggling to get into their vehicles and man their anti-air guns as our own vehicles destroy them. As one of the helicopters blows up and shoots a building, it falls and crushes a squad of Slav soldiers.

“Careful about hitting those buildings,” Garnet says over the radio.

“Do not worry about them, woman,” the Middle Eastern leader says. “The blood of our enemies and justice done upon them is a reward worth the damage done to anything in the city.”

“You heard him. Destroy all targets regardless of damage done to the city.”

At Garnet’s command, the helicopters and tanks start shooting more recklessly at targets, much to the delight of our Middle Eastern allies, who cheer at the destruction and chant their praises to their god. Meanwhile, I cross myself for the souls of our allies and enemies. Advancing, we enter one of their most sacred places and start clearing it out. Armed with a rifle and pistol, I switch between the two as I rush the enemy, especially after hearing from Garnet that they’re keeping hostages here.

“Be careful not to rush ahead, Westerner. There’s no need to be reckless,” the Middle Eastern leader says.

“I’m an expert at hostage rescue. This is how we do it in the States,” I say.

“If God wants them to be rescued, then they will be. If not, they will die.”

Obviously, but still. I don’t want others to die just because I’m concerned for my own safety. Thankfully, we’re able to rescue the hostages before the Slav can hide behind them, and the so-called holy site for the Middle Easterners is mostly intact, save for the explosive damage, blood, and bullet holes on its ceilings and walls. One of the hostages, a young girl, rushes up to the Middle Eastern leader, hugs him, and then kisses him on the cheek.

“She’s my wife. Well, one of them,” the Middle Eastern leader says with a smile.

Bezalel and I nod and then look at each other, probably thinking the same thing. We look around the area and see drawings across the walls of Middle Easterners in battle, killing pagans, Israelites, and Christians alike. There are also drawings of weddings where men marry multiple wives and also mostly women burning in fire. In the center of the building is a strange black box obelisk that’s said to hold the remains of the Middle Easterner’s prophet who started their church, plus other so-called holy men, their wives, and various objects of importance that only the highest in their church can observe and add to the collection.

Garnet radios over to us, “The Slavs are retreating, and the battle is won. All units regroup.”

“Delay that order,” the Middle Eastern leader says. “Chase down the enemy and destroy every single one of them.”

“What if their retreat leads into an ambush?”

“Send more men.”

“… Roger. All available units, destroy the retreating Slavs.”

We do as we’re asked, and thankfully, the rest of the units are able to catch up to the retreating Slavs and destroy them before we can. The bad news is that they walked into an ambush, and many of the Chimaera States’ soldiers died. Once the ambush is destroyed as well, the Middle Easterners and all the occupants of the city celebrate. They have a party throughout the rest of the day and into the night, with sporadic speeches they broadcast to the world, telling them that the Submission Church and the people of the Middle East will not be easily conquered by the Slav Federation, and that they’ll drive out the invaders all the way to the borders between the countries and far beyond. Garnet, Bezalel, and I are celebrating their victory in our own way, in a separate part of the city, enjoying alcohol that is forbidden for the people of the Submission Church to drink, but they tolerate us drinking it as a way to get rid of it.

“At least they didn’t mention us in their big speeches,” Garnet says.

“They can’t. If they did, then it’d damage their pride and make them look like they can’t defend or get justice for themselves,” Bezalel says as he finishes one drink and goes for another. “Draco, I know you’re thinking the same thing I am. That sick freak of a leader has a child bride, and I’m betting that the rest of his wives are children too.”

“Actually, only ten of his wives are underage teenagers. The other five are women around his age,” Garnet says.

“Regardless, I think they have something to do with that human trafficking syndicate we previously busted. It’s probably why you’ve been having those dreams, Draco. The Cult of the Pale Green Horse was involved with the syndicate and supplied women and children for those degenerates in the City of Angels.”

“We can’t do anything about it now, while we’re working with them, and keep our minds on our primary objective. You already know when our chosen time to act is, anyway,” I say.

“Yeah, but seeing child brides and the exploitation of women is getting under my skin.”

“How do you think it’s making me feel, especially with the things these foreign men say to me?” Garnet asks. “We need to play it cool, for now.”

“You two may be able to bear working with these savages, but I’m not. I mean, look at them down there, parading around the bodies of their enemies and beating them to death like that.”

“Is that so different than what we allowed to happen?” I say.

“That happened to people who deserved it, but those soldiers down there…you know what? You have a point. The Slavs deserved it too.”

“I think you need to lay off the booze, Bezalel,” Garnet says.

“Sure, sure. Let me just finish this last bottle first.”

“Bezalel,” I say as I grab the bottle from his hand.

Even though I can’t see his eyes, I get the distinct impression that Bezalel is upset, not so much at me grabbing his drink, but at me denying him his way of dealing with our situation.

“Okay. Fine. I’m going to sleep,” Bezalel says as he knocks the bottle out of my hand and storms off.

Garnet and I look at one another and agree to go to our separate rooms, not really wanting to drink or talk anymore. I’m sure we both feel the same way that Bezalel does, so getting this whole situation over with is our best course of action. God, I hope it will be, and that the Slavs will be easier than we think to defeat and push back to their hellscape of a godless country.

My latest short story is out today for free!

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The Secret Intelligence Bureau, or SIB, is a public law enforcement agency that works in the shadows. When you least expect it, they'll show up at your door and question you about what you may be guilty of. Agents Draco Jung, Bezalel Lior, and Garnet Nox check on strange electrical readings from an apartment complex that lead to the discovery of a human trafficking syndicate that involves many people in movies, TV, and entertainment in the City of Angels.

Government-Sanctioned Mafia: Chapter 4 – Secret Justice

Chapter 4 – Secret Justice

All agents and police officers already outside the targeted house move in just as we arrive on the scene. Bezalel, Garnet, and I move in and are surprised that no one fires a single shot. Everyone in the house surrenders and is taken away without a fight.

“Did you know this would happen?” Bezalel asks.

“This house was surrounded the moment we knew what was happening here. The bureau wasn’t going to take any chances,” Garnet says.

“Whatever. I’m digging deeper into what’s here.”

In the house, Garnet connects to the computers and finds files on the many degenerate parties they had here and the kinds of people they did work with. They apparently worked with other criminal human trafficking rings, a rape gang from the Cult of the Pale Green Horse, and other people they knew in entertainment. Thankfully, no one in the government is mentioned since the syndicate didn’t want to risk their entire operation. The government here is mostly filled with traditionally-minded, good people, so they probably wouldn’t find any allies in it anyway. Going into the basement, we find pictures on the walls of many of the victims of the human trafficking syndicate, most of whom are children.

Further in the basement, we find dozens of dirty beds, and in one room, we find barrels buried into the ground, clothes of all sizes scattered around, flies swarming the barrels, and the smell of something beyond horrible, as if we could smell the evil of what happened here.

“If those fuckers don’t get the death penalty, then the justice system is dead,” Bezalel says as he storms out of the room and runs up the stairs and out of the basement.

Because of what happened and the public outcry surrounding it, the trials of everyone involved are expedited so that the public unrest will die down. Most of everyone associated with the human trafficking syndicate receives the death penalty, except for the people in entertainment who have the most influence and power. For some reason, the evidence we have is insufficient for the jury and judge, but because of the public outcry and the evidence we do have, they are given a few months in prison for severe negligence.

Bezalel jumps up during the decision and says, “Bull-fucking-shit!”

Garnet and I have to hold him back as he and everyone else in the audience cause a scene at the trial. Nothing is changed by the crowd’s outrage, and the decision of the judge is final. With nothing else to do, the three of us go back to the SIB office and are surprised by the bureau throwing a party for us and everyone who helped out take down the human trafficking syndicate. They especially recognize Garnet, Bezalel, and me for discovering it and everything we did, even going so far as to give us raises and promote us in rank. We’re all thankful for it, but the three of us are still somewhat upset by the results of the trials.

“Maybe the jury or judge was bought out. Maybe some of the evidence was deleted,” Bezalel guesses.

“None of the evidence in the investigation was tampered with as far as I knew. I made sure that it was secure in the SIB’s database. I feel like it’s my fault for not being able to get some of the information that was deleted on their servers and computers when they were scrubbing those,” Garnet says.

“Don’t blame yourself for that. You did what you could,” I say.

“I know, but I feel like I could’ve done more.”

“We all feel that way,” Bezalel says.

During the celebration, I can’t help but try to reassure myself that we did everything we could and that this was the best result we could’ve gotten. I even try to delude myself into thinking that those who didn’t get the death penalty maybe were actually guilty of severe negligence, but a part of me can’t stop thinking the opposite. Things are quiet in the City of Angels for a while as the day of the release of the remaining people associated with the human trafficking syndicate arrives. Garnet, Bezalel, and I are called to the briefing room of the SIB office by our superiors. When we enter the room, we’re surprised to find that our bosses aren’t there. Instead, it’s the president and vice president themselves, President Vincenzo Campione and Vice President Cesare Campione.

Vincenzo is dressed in a red and black suit and hat and black hair and blue eyes, while his brother, Cesare, has a grey and blue suit, blonde hair, and green eyes. The three of us bow to them and say how much of an honor it is to meet them. Vincenzo waves us off and says that the honor is his.

He continues, “You three helped save so many children and innocent victims of a syndicate that should never have existed in our country.”

“We’ve been monitoring the situation ever since we heard about it, making sure that everyone is doing their job and no one is stabbing us in the back. I wish I were there to help and not uselessly on the sidelines. You three have more self-control than I will ever have because I would’ve shot every single one of those bastards without even thinking of taking them in alive,” Cesare says.

“Trust me, sir. I was on the edge of killing them all myself. I don’t have as much self-control as you think,” Bezalel says.

“And yet, you held back, but don’t worry about self-control for what we have planned.”

Vincenzo says, “As you know, the people in entertainment associated with the syndicate that got away with their lives and a slap on the wrist are getting out of jail soon. We’ve heard that they’re going to have a getting-out-of-jail party, and we’d like you to make the celebration special for them.”

“What are you suggesting, sir?” I ask.

“What you’re all feeling. What you all know that these people should’ve gotten.”

Bezalel looks at us, and I can tell he’s smiling behind his gas mask.

“Sirs, this is highly illegal,” Garnet says.

“Illegal, maybe, but as I like to say, men make laws, but God decides what is right and wrong.”

“You sound like this is going to happen with or without us,” I say.

“It will. Justice must be served outside the law as much as it is inside of it,” Cesare says.

I’ve heard the rumors that Vincenzo and Cesare are associated with vigilantes and the mafia, but this solidifies it. Given their influence, power, and what they’re going to do, I can’t see trying to stop it as the right course of action.

“What would you like us to do?” I ask.

“Draco!” Garnet says.

“Tell us what we need to do. We’re willing to do anything,” Bezalel says.

“Bezalel!”

“If you don’t want to help, you don’t have to, Garnet. Just don’t try to stop us,” Vincenzo says.

Garnet looks at us, sighs, and agrees to help. Vincenzo and Cesare tell us their plan, and we enact it on the day of the party. As the party is underway, we make sure everyone is inside before cutting the power. We all put on our masks, draw our pistols, and enter the mansion. Bezalel wears a new gas mask in the design of a plague doctor, while Garnet and I wear crow masks. As we move through the house, we silently take out the guards by strangling them with fiber wire. Everyone in the building is now gathered, afraid for their safety, so we radio our backup to enter the mansion from all sides. Before they can come in, we open fire on the remaining guards and tell everyone to stay down.

Our backup arrives, other people in masks, and begins threatening the partygoers with guns and bats as they force them out into the streets, where they start beating them to death and yelling at them about how they’re monsters for destroying their lives and taking away their loved ones. The rageful parents and grandparents are the most vicious, as they yell about their dead or forever mentally damaged children or grandchildren. This whole scene causes the neighbors to call the police, who soon arrive in a few minutes. While the police are telling the crowd to stop what they’re doing and that they’re under arrest, President Vincenzo and Vice President Cesare take off their snake masks and step out of the crowd with their hands up. The police are shocked to see them and are unsure about what to do.

“Do you really want to deny these people justice?” Vincenzo asks.

“No-no, sir,” an officer says.

“Then leave.”

“B…but this whole thing is-”

Cesare interrupts by saying, “Is what? We all know that these pedophiles and scum are guilty, and yet our system let them go free with a slap on the wrist compared to what they should’ve gotten.”

“This isn’t illegal in the slightest,” Vincenzo adds. “This is why my brother and I instituted vigilante laws, so that criminals like these wouldn’t get away with their heinous sins, so please, let these families have what they were denied, and then they’ll leave.”

The police officers look at one another, agree, and then leave. With the police gone, the crowds continue to beat the scum that abused and took away their loved ones before hanging them on a nearby tree, still alive. They hurl their final insults at them, and then leave. Back at the SIB office, the president and vice president thank us for helping them.

Vincenzo says, “Even though no one but those in Heaven will know about what you three did today, I’ll make sure you’re all properly rewarded with a bonus, promotion, and favors in the bureau.”

The three of us thank the president and vice president, who then leave the office as if they just concluded some mundane business with us. Bezalel is ecstatic over what we did, while Garnet is unsure exactly how to feel, though she is satisfied that the loved ones of the human trafficking got what they felt they deserved. As for me, I feel a strange sense of satisfaction and finality, as if what happened was the actual right thing to do and the best thing that could’ve happened to end this whole situation. Thanks be to God for justice finding a way to be enacted on the guilty, both inside and outside human law.

 

The End