Government-Sanctioned Mafia: Chapter 1 – Caught Unaware

Chapter 1 – Caught Unaware

My partner, Bezalel Lior, and I are out on the streets of the City of Angels in the Golden State, enjoying a short coffee break. We watch tourists take pictures where movie and TV stars show off the premiere of what they star in, and watch as amateurs perform their tricks or sing on stage to get attention for their craft.

“This almost makes the high taxes worth it. We get free entertainment while enjoying our breakfast,” I say.

“You have a weird idea of entertainment, Draco. Watching a bunch of attention-seeking idiots make fools of themselves in public is sadder than anything,” Bezalel says.

“So, why are you watching it then?”

“It’s something to look at while I’m drinking my coffee, and it is cool to see the actually talented people do their thing and amusing to watch the idiots try to impress people.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you if it’s uncomfortable for you to drink coffee like that, always having to take your gas mask on and off.”

Bezalel is a Great War veteran who needs a gas mask from the war to breathe properly. He also has a robotic right arm and wears a brown suit, a fancy black bowtie, dark brown suit pants, black dress shoes, and has his SIB pin on his suit.

“I got used to it.”

“How come you didn’t pick something more normal to wear in public? Why did it have to be a gas mask from the war?”

“It’s because I wore it so much during that time that I feel safer wearing this than the other masks they offered me.”

“What about the damage done to you?”

“It’s nothing but fancy war scars.”

“So, you don’t look ugly under that mask?”

“Not at all. I look quite handsome.”

“Prove it.”

“Nah. It’ll make you jealous if you ever saw my real face.”

I look at myself in my car’s window for a second, and imagine how Bezalel looks under his mask. In comparison to him, I look like a normal SIB agent, with my black hair, with some light tones to its side, black sunglasses, blue suit and pants, black dress shoes, yellow ties, black dress shirt, and SIB pin on the side of my suit.

On the earpiece radio I have, I hear Garnet say, “You boys done your coffee break yet? We have to make those tax dollars spent on us worth it.”

Garnet Nox is an office worker at the local SIB office who is Bezalel and my backup to look up anything we’re investigating, is able to get us police or agent backup, and just generally keeps us on our toes.

“We’re on it, boss,” I say.

I go into my SIB car and check its system for any reports of suspicious activity that we can investigate. One of the nearby reports says that an apartment complex is unusually using a lot of power for the number of people that are there.

I tell Bezalel about it, and he says, “If the tax agency had as much power as they did before President Campione took office, they’d just give them a higher bill and not look into it, unless the tenants weren’t paying their dues.”

“God bless President Campione for severely limiting the tax agency’s power and influence. I’d hate to be an annoying lawman, so let’s just check what’s going on and get them off the list. Can you tell us anything about them, Garnet?”

“Everyone in there knows one another and is associated with moderately popular online streamers. They bought out every room in the apartment, and everyone who wasn’t associated with them was paid a generous amount of money to leave,” Garnet radios over.

“That isn’t illegal to do?” Bezalel asks.

“Not technically. The people they kicked out made a settlement with them, so it’s legal. It must’ve been a good deal since the current tenants haven’t been sued, nor has their deal been argued since.”

“Okay, let’s just go there, write them off, and leave. They probably have a high bill because they just stream and party all night. I’ve heard these people survive on a diet of energy drinks and pornography,” I say.

“That’s pretty close to the truth,” Garnet says.

“God help those faggots,” Bezalel says.

I drive Bezalel and me to the apartment complex. From the outside, it’s nothing special, except for all the graffiti all over it. It’s three stories high, and many of its windows are blacked out.

Using my agent glasses to send over to Garnet what I’m seeing, I ask her, “Is all this graffiti legal?”

“It's their apartment. If someone within didn’t complain, it’s legal,” Garnet says.

“Alright.”

Bezalel and I go to the office of the apartment, say we’re SIB agents, and ask for the manager. A woman in a business suit approaches us from the back room, and for some reason, she looks all frazzled, and with the way her business suit is, you’d think she was dressing for someone with an office-woman fetish.

“Excuse me, miss. We’re SIB agents Draco Jung and Bezalel Lior. How are you doing today?” I ask.

“Fine enough. Can I help you with something?” the woman says in a somewhat tired tone.

“We saw that the amount of electricity used in this apartment complex was unusual. We’ll be investigating the reason for that, and then be on our way.”

“Okay. Let me know if you need anything.”

The woman walks back into her office and closes the door behind her.

“I was going to ask her for a layout of the apartment building, but I guess she’s busy with something,” Bezalel says.

“I can get that for you. Check your phones,” Garnet says.

I look at my phone and see a map of the apartment complex with every room marked.

“Thanks, Garnet. This shouldn’t take long,” I say.

Bezalel and I decide to check the electrical room first and find that it’s locked. Asking the nearby electrical workers and janitors for a key, they say they don’t have one but should be getting a replacement soon. Not wanting to wait for it, I use the lockpick gun I have with me and open the door for us.

“What is all this?” I ask.

“Data mining servers,” Bezalel says.

“I know, but I’m asking more about why it’s all here.”

“Is there any record of them having this, Garnet?”

“Not at all. We’ll have to do an investigation as to why they have it,” Garnet says.

“Bezalel. The electricians and janitors are coming down,” I say. “We opened the door for you. Would you happen to know why-”

Before I say anything else, I see the electricians and janitors drawing their pistols on us. I draw my own and open fire on them as I take cover.

“Garnet! We’re under assault from the apartment’s staff! Get police backup down here!” I say.

“On it!” Garnet says.

Bezalel fires back at our attackers and asks me, “Should we take them in alive or dead?”

“Alive! They know what’s going on here,” I say.

I load special rounds into my pistol that inject a solution into what it hits that puts people to sleep. I can’t penetrate hard surfaces, but it can penetrate normal clothes. Bezalel and I use our knockout rounds on our attackers and head up the stairs, wary of any more threats. Sure enough, some Middle Eastern-looking men come out of the apartment’s office firing at us, and there are also others shooting us from the stairs. Bezalel and I shoot them and then chase after the others who are running up the stairs. More people come out of the apartment rooms to fire at us, forcing us into cover.

“They must really be afraid of us finding what’s on those servers if they’re all trying to kill us,” I say.

“Let’s give them another reason to be afraid of us. Put your mask on,” Bezalel says.

He reaches into his pockets and throws small, metallic capsules into the hallway that release a red gas. I reach into my back pockets and quickly put a half-face mask on. The red gas makes people choke up, fall to the ground, and drop their guns.

“The SIB want the owners of the apartment complex in cuffs for questioning,” Garnet radios over. “The primary streamer’s family, who owns everything, is on the top floor.”

“Let’s get this degenerate,” Bezalel says.

Bezalel and I go to the top floor to find more people shooting at us. We shoot back, and we throw more gas to easily take them out. I look at my map and go to the one where the owners live. The door is locked, but instead of picking it, Bezalel punches a hole through it and unlocks it. Inside the room, we find various statues of nude men and women, neon lights, and empty food boxes. It doesn’t seem like anyone is here until one of the doors bursts open and a man in a cat full-body costume charges at us with a bat. After shooting him and knocking him out, Bezalel and I see that the bat is the kind that people shove in private places.

Moving on from the pathetic degenerate, I open a bathroom door to see an older, tanned woman dressed like a schoolgirl. I tell her to put her hands up, but she says she hasn’t done anything and reaches into her pocket. Not taking any chances, we shoot her, and she drops the phone she was reaching for. A fat young adult male with cat-ear headphones then comes out of his room with a rifle decorated with naked anime women and neon lights. We tell him to put the gun down before he can raise it, and he seems afraid to even hold it.

“You hurt my wife! You gotta pay!” the young man says as he raises his rifle.

We shoot the young man, knocking him out. In his room, we find various lewd anime-girl character figures, femboy posters, and pictures of children, both boys and girls. The computer is on, and it looks like he was streaming a popular children’s game. People in his livestream see us and start saying hi, telling us to make sure everyone in the apartment is dead and not to shoot the dog. Police backup finally arrives and helps take everyone in, including the other residents who didn’t fight us. Everyone is questioned, and the apartment’s data servers are analyzed. Bezalel and I meet with Garnet back at the SIB office to go over the findings in my office.

As I lay out the files, I say, “It looks like we’ve walked into a real mess of a situation.”

“I always joked in my head about degenerate streamers being pedophiles because of their audience of kids, but I didn’t want it to be true. Garnet, did you know anything about it before we went in?” Bezalel says.

“There were reports and rumors, but nothing formally investigated for some reason,” Garnet says.

“Well, we’re going to find out that reason soon. The Bureau has all local SIB offices and police stations on this case. The entire apartment complex was not only hosting their streams, but they also streamed porn, and not just any kind of porn, but rapes and child pornography, featuring the apartment’s residents and men, women, and children who were being trafficked and abused for the sick amusement of the people on the dark web.”

“That explains the servers,” Bezalel says.

 “That thing hosted their website and dozens and dozens of their videos, pictures, and pornographic games that they made. It also showed that the operation is bigger than themselves because they’re the buyers, not the suppliers of the people who were trafficked,” I explain.

“Heads are going to roll for this, or should I say hang,” Bezalel says.

“Technically, they may get lethal injection, electric chair, or a bullet to the head,” Garnet says.

“Whatever the case is, we have to arrest them first before they face justice in a court of law, so let’s not keep the executioners waiting,” I say.