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After the murder of his mother, Tommy, the Don of South City, teams up with Lincoln, leader of the North City gang, to take down the corrupt leaders of Old America that still hold power over it and take the entire city back for its people. In the near future when America is fractured and criminals are the heroes, only the virtuous will save the country and make it great like it was meant to be.

Good Criminals and Good Fridays: Chapter 4 – A Good Friday

Chapter 4 – A Good Friday

A week has passed since we took the city for ourselves and a lot has happened since then. The chief of police, who is my uncle and one of the last of The Boys, becomes the city’s mayor and begins removing and adding laws to bring true order to the city. This long list of changes is too long for me to remember and since it’s my uncle, I really don’t care about the specifics of it. My uncle along with the other remaining Boys and our leaders have declared independence from Old America. We have also been preparing for the eventual arrival of more enforcers and have been meeting with the leaders of other rogue states to reaffirm deals and discuss how we should deal with the rest of Old America.

The people who have been wrongfully put in prison are freed while the rest of the prisoners’ cases are looked over again except for those who obviously did something wrong. In addition, the people who fought alongside us are instantly inducted into the family and are given a share of the spoils. Speaking of spoils, the people from the undercity are given places to live on the surface in the Center City and a job so they can properly live their lives. Meanwhile, the illegals are kicked out of the city to make room for the rest of the homeless and the entire undercity is destroyed since no one should be living there anyway. We’ve also broken down a majority of the walls surrounding the Center City so the parts of the city aren’t restricted from one another.

Despite everything going on, the only thing I’m concerned about is the party happening tomorrow, which is Friday. It’s going to take place all along Broad Street and other places in the city such as Juniper Street where I’m hosting my side of the party. Right now, I’m making cookies, St. Joseph’s cakes, cannolis, biscottis, and other desserts with the rest of the people at my dad’s bakery. With the calm in the city, it’s as if the events of the past couple of days didn’t happen and I wasn’t the leader of a gang. I can get used to this. Lincoln comes through the doors and looks around the store as if he’s entering a new world.

“It’s good to see that you’ve made it. Did you get caught in traffic?” I ask.

“No, I walked, pinstripe. There’s a good kind of chaos outside where people are already partying or still partying since last week,” Lincoln says.

“Speaking of parties, are you ready to help me prepare for it?”

“Yup. Show me that you can cook as well as you can make speeches and shoot.”

For the next couple of hours, Lincoln helps me cook desserts. I teach him the recipes and how to cook correctly since he said that women like a man who can cook. I’ll have to remember to bring that up when I go on a date. It’s noon now so we take a break and eat lunchmeat that we got from the deli I usually buy from and eat our sandwiches outside.

“Your mom is coming to the party, right?” I ask.

“That’s right. She said she never thought she’d see the day was free from the grips of Old America and that she was proud of me. She’ll be moving back to our old house and in with me,” Lincoln says. “I’m sure your mom is proud of you as well.”

“I know. Thank you. Believe it or not, I’m surprised I kept my eyes on the prize of freeing the city rather than getting justice for her death.”

“I’d like to think we got the bastard or bastards who murdered my dad or planned it. We probably got the people who murdered your mom as well along the way while we were in city hall.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“This feels weird living like this, doesn’t it? Are you going to find a girl and settle down with her?”

“I think so. Are you already planning it?”

“Maybe I’ll find a nice girl at the party, but if you find one before me, try not to show her off, otherwise, my mom will be hitting me over the head with my inability to attract women.”

“Ha! I’m sure you’ll find someone sooner rather than later.”

“If I had a suit like the one you usually wear, it could be possible.”

“We can go out after we’re done cooking to get you one.”

“Really? Well, let’s get done as soon as we can then. Mom is expecting me to find a girl soon so I shouldn’t keep her waiting.”

“My mom is probably thinking the same thing so I best be on my best behavior and look my best.”

“Well then, we’re about to see who can get married and start a family faster. May the best man win,” Lincoln says with his hand extended.

“Sure, whatever you say,” I say and then shake his hand.

After cooking and tasting the final product, the workers pack everything up while we drive to the suit store where my family gets our suits. Of all the usual suits we get family members, Lincoln chooses the black and red pinstripe suit, which is a good choice. Since we’re so close to South Street and there’s nothing else to do today, we head there for dinner and dessert. Once we’re done, we take a walk down the street and head to Delaware Avenue. Lots of people are celebrating here too. This and seeing the sunset makes it the perfect sight to end the day on.

“Look at us, pinstripe,” Lincoln says, “Two criminal leaders that freed the city and no one seems to notice.”

“We are wearing casual jeans and shirts rather than our usual suits,” I say.

“Yeah. That and everyone is focused on having a good time. You know what? I don’t mind this. The fame of freeing the city was never a motivator for me. Seeing this, restoring the rights of the people, punishing corruption, and doing what’s right was what kept me going. If I never shoot another gun in my life and live like this, I’ll die a happy man.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

Lincoln and I don’t say anything as we enjoy the sights until we decide to go home and get some early rest to wake up nice and early to get everything on Juniper Street settled and perfected for all our guests. Wearing my best suit, I get up at seven in the morning and start setting up the tables, tents, DJ table, and bar with my family members. Around eight is when Lincoln, his family, and friends from the North City show up, help out, and introduce themselves. Ten-thirty is when the party starts and as expected, it’s a good relaxing time. I wouldn’t want anything else except to see my family enjoying food, music, and each other’s company.

This is what the good life is. It’s what I’ve been fighting for and trying to protect. As the party goes on, Lincoln and his mom’s song comes on. I asked one of his friends what song they liked the most and got it on the DJ’s playlist without him knowing about it. He looks at me with a smile and surprise and I smile and nod at him. His mom and he dances together to their favorite song along with others on the dance floor. I, on the other hand, am watching it on the side while looking for a girl that I think I would like to spend the rest of my life with. One girl gets my attention and she ends up looking at me. We lock eyes and smile at one another, so this may be the one.

While walking to her, I hear a shot. I look around to see where the shot came from, who got shot, and…oh no…

“Get everyone to safety and kill that assassin!” I say.

Lincoln and his mom were shot through the chest with one shot from an assassin that’s on the rooftops. Running towards them, I try getting them up and seeing if they’re alive in vain as the single shot through them has instantly killed them. The look on their faces shows they died happily and only noticed what happened at the last moment. I can’t help but shed a few tears until I shake them off and tell my family members to get their bodies out of here and help out with finding the assassin. While going after them, I hear more gunshots in the city. What’s going on in the city?

When I call one of my family members in the police, they tell me that, “Tommy, the enforcers are ambushing all of our family members to make an example of us to the rest of the country and the world. I’m with your uncle and the archbishop. We’re holding out but other places aren’t doing so well. I’ve already sent word out to the others and was just about to call you.”

“You’re too late! They already got Lincoln and shot his mom in the process,” I say.

“Bastards! Listen, you better get to one of the safehouses since they’re after you.”

“Screw that! I already lost a brother. I’m not going to lose more of my family. I’ll help out our parish and get the clergy to safety since I’m not too far from him.”

“Be careful.”

I call back my family members from chasing the assassin so we can focus on protecting the rest of the family. With a sizable group of them, we quickly get in our cars and head to the National Shrine of St. Rita. One half of the group evacuates the convent next to it, another evacuates the elderly and poor aid center on the other side, and I head into the church to get everyone else out. The inside of the church is quiet as if the chaos outside isn’t happening and the supernatural calm of the place is keeping us safe for now. As we approach the altar, we kneel and cross ourselves before going behind it and finding several priests and nuns.

“Tommy, what’s going on out there?” the priest I confess to asks.

“Chaos, father. Old America isn’t letting their defeat go and is after every member of the family starting with those at the top and everyone in between,” I explain. “We must get you and everyone here to safety. Come on!”

My confessor and the clergy come with me out of the back and we see a squad of enforcers coming into the church and going into the pews to take cover as they aim their guns at us. I along with my fellow family members cover the clergy with our bodies while aiming our guns back.

One of the enforcers decked out in cybernetics and wielding a light machine gun steps forward ahead of the enforcers and says, “This can end now, Don of South City. Lay down your arms and lives can be spared.”

“Can be spared? Heh, I think you let yourself slip that you don’t really plan to spare lives,” I say.

“I said can be spared because I’ll need your help to get people like your uncle and The Boys to stand down. You can save lives here for sure by joining forces with us.”

“Do you think I’ll turn on my own family after taking the city after years of fighting against Old America?”

“You will if you want to save them. All your crimes will be forgiven if you choose to bring peace to America with us. Your family’s crimes will be forgiven as well if they do the same.”

“Why give us the choice? Why didn’t you do the same with Lincoln and just shot him instead?”

“Because we had to show you what would happen if you said no. As a criminal, I’m sure you understand making an example of a few to make your point and get what you want. So, what will it be? I’m not going to waste any more time talking about this with you. Remember that America is still strong enough to take back this city with its own army or with the help of the UN.”

I raise my tommy gun and start shooting as my answer while telling my family members to split up with half taking the clergy out the back entrance and the other half covering their escape. Since the situation is so dire, they do as they’re told. Along with a handful of my family members, we hold off the enforcers on the altar. A few of them head for the pews to take cover which hardly helps them against the enforcers’ powerful weapons. Regardless, we fight on and by the end of it, I’m the last man standing with both my family members and the squad of enforcers dead. I’m thinking that I got off too lucky until I feel a heavy feeling come across my entire body and then notice the bullet holes in me. As I lean against the altar, I cross myself and pray that the rest of my family will be safe.

The front doors of the church open and I see a bright light that changes everything around me into clouds made of light and a floor made of gold and jewels. I can see an angel, probably my guardian angel holding my arm taking me to the door where I see my parents, my family members, Lincoln, his parents, the saints I’ve prayed to, and more angels. Behind them all is Christ Himself that has His arms open for me. My vision then shifts back so that I see the church again with my family members slowly running towards me and yelling about something. Again, my vision shifts back to Heaven.

In Heaven, I look at the face of Christ and see what looks to be the future. My family members and everyone in the city come together after my death and secures the city so that what happened today won’t happen again. Afterward, the other rogue states join the city and eventually push out the remnants of Old America and its allies from other countries to create a better country under God.

“We are so proud of you,” I hear from my parents.

If this is it, then I don’t mind it. I did what I was born to do and kept everyone who loved me proud of me. What better end could I ask for? For what better purpose was there to spend my life? As far as I know, I’ve lived a good meaningful life.

 

The End

Good Criminals and Good Fridays: Chapter 3 – Death by Democracy

Chapter 3 – Death by Democracy

America died when it abandoned God. Over the years as the worship and respect of God declined, so did America. Laws became stricter, taxes were heightened, rights were taken away, wages were meager, morality became subjective, and anyone could do anything they wanted without punishment as long as the state and the majority of the population didn’t argue with it. I, along with other traditionalist movements, inspire people to rise up and learn the actual truth about the world. The media may lie about us and paint us as nothing more than extremists and criminals, but we know what we really are. We are the true Americans, the ones who want to see this country change for the better.

Though not everyone agrees to be Catholic like us, they still help out by refusing to take part in Old America’s system and rebelling against it. Thanks to Lincoln’s speech and a little push by our contacts in the Center City, the people within that part of the city are rioting and protesting against their leaders. They were told that the North and South Cities would finally fall due to the combined efforts of the police and the enforcers, but they didn’t know that we were prepared for them and that many actual respectable officers were on our side. They couldn’t take away our power, food, water, guns, or fighting spirit and now it’s time for us to take the fight to them. Thanks to everything that my parents and their friends started and my generation’s carrying of their torch, things will begin to change and the last remnants of Old America will fade away.

Currently, Lincoln, our supporters, and I are going through the sewers in different parts so we can enter the Center City to support our various contacts and help them push forward and overtake the city hall tower where all the leaders of the city reside. There are secret parts of these sewers with metal gates that are usually guarded that allow people to secretly travel into other parts of the city, however, since all available officers are needed above, there’s no one left to guard it. Old America has had a patriotism problem for years, especially after villainizing and cutting off funding for cops and this is the result of it. A scarcely staffed police force with a majority of them on our side. We get to the metal gate and use a melt-cutting tool that is essentially a small laser to get through the metal gates without issue. Looking at one of the cameras near the gates, Lincoln smiles and waves at it as he walks by.

“There’s probably no one watching it,” I say.

“I’d like to think someone is,” Lincoln says.

“If anything, the remaining officers and enforcers are guarding city hall with their best men equipped with cybernetics and best guns.”

“All that protection for ten city blocks in both directions.”

“No one is coming to save them so they have to make a final stand until they can get more help from Old America.”

“As if they’d send more after yesterday’s defeat. They’ll fall like the other pockets of Old America have fallen. No one is going to save them. Not even God.”

If they’d change their ways, then maybe God would at least save their souls. I doubt that would happen since they’re secularists who probably don’t believe in God, so I cross myself.

“What a pity,” I say.

Now comes a difficult part. These sewers are connected to the undercity slums where the poor of the Center City reside. Chances are there are enforcers down here and the people may fight against us. Once we enter a series of hallways, we make it to the undercity. I’ve never seen it in person, only in pictures. It’s a shame to see people living like this. Illegals allowed in from the south live better than this on the surface while these people are forgotten about because they’re cheaper to employ, are a show of the government’s so-called kindness, and will do what they’re told if they don’t want to be sent back to a slightly worse country.

The buildings here are small and very few of them are bigger than two stories tall. It’s dimly lit down here and the buildings seem to be made out of old metal and bricks that were once trash or have been trashed by whatever crime is done down here. People start noticing us and hiding or standing still to see what we’re going to do.

I say to them, “If anyone wants to fight, now’s the time! For too long you’ve lived in the garbage because your leaders thought you were nothing more than slaves, but you’re not. You’re all human beings like us that deserve more than this. I promise each and every one of you a place in a home on the surface if you fight with us. Who’s with us?”

The people start talking among themselves and very few step forward at first until more join in.

“Don’t listen to them! They don’t stand a chance against America!” a random guy in a crowd says, “Their war won’t end here. America will keep sending enforcers and troops at this city like how they’re doing that with every other one in the country.”

“And?” Lincoln says. “So what if they keep sending their dogs our way? Would you rather waste your life slaving away for people who don’t care for you or fight and die to accomplish something worthwhile? I know some of you don’t believe in God or living for a purpose other greater than yourselves, so sit down in the dirt where you belong. As for the rest of us, we’re going to make history and a world worth living in.”

“You’re insane!”

A woman shoves an assassin out of a second-story window just as they take their shot at us and thankfully miss. This assassin breaks their neck because of the fall and dies. Even though they’re dead, the crowd near the building starts beating on them to make sure.

“I don’t know about you, sorry bums, but I’m going to fight with them, and I don’t care about dying. It’s better than being here,” the woman who saved us says.

 “And hey, maybe they’ll put our names in the history books!” a random guy in the crowd says.

“We’ll be famous!”

“We’ll have real homes!”

“We won’t have to live in the trash!”

“We’ll have freedom!”

“Yeah, freedom!”

“Freedom! Freedom! Freedom!” the crowd starts chanting before joining us in droves.

“Onward for freedom!” I say as I lead them to the surface.

We’re now on Lombard and Broad, a few blocks from the walls. Our other men are approaching from twenty-second and Chestnut, Spring Garden, and Market and third. Ahead of us, the feds have set up metal barriers and barricades that don’t do much to protect them from the civilians that pelt them from all sides with trash and bottles. One of my family members hands me a microphone.

“This is your last chance to give up. I suggest you take it or face the wrath of God and the people you’ve wronged for too long,” I say into the microphone.

Some of the feds leave while others stand their ground and start firing their guns at us and the people throwing stuff at them.

“Get behind cover!” I say before we return fire.

We’re pinned down and losing people for a good five minutes until our backup comes ramming through the gates behind us. They come out shooting from the trucks and hand out guns to the civilians who are aiding us. Because of this, we are able to push the feds back a few blocks to Pine and Broad where they have turrets set up. Since they’ve pulled out their big guns, we do the same by blowing them up with our rocket launchers. Locust and Broad is where they have a group of enforcers set up that we overwhelm and push back with sheer numbers. These numbers and our momentum allows us to keep pushing until we reach the final obstacle on Chestnut and Broad where a squad of cybernetically enhanced enforcers is set up behind barriers. They are aided by snipers in the nearby buildings and remote controlled turrets.

“Spread out!” Lincoln says.

Rockets are fired at the buildings where the snipers are and at the enforcers. A hacker of ours manages to wrangle control of the turrets and uses them to our advantage. In addition to our forces from all sides coming together, we push the enforcers back to city hall and shoot down everyone who continues to fight against us. A strange moment of silence falls upon us as we realize that nothing stands between us, city hall, and making history. This silence quiets everyone down except for those consumed by the excitement of this event who cheer as if victory is already ours.

Our forces plant explosives on the metal doors and blow them as we assault city hall from all entrances. There are more enforcers and feds in here. Some put up a fight while most put their guns down or turn on their own. More and more surrender and turn as we ascend twenty floors of the building. Thanks to the help of an enforcer with a high level of credentials we can get to the twenty-first and last floor of city hall where the Center City’s leaders reside. They all have cybernetics and are armed. With our numbers, it is soon obvious to them that what they have won’t save them, so they put their guns down and hands up.

“Can we talk to your leaders? I’m sure we can work out a deal,” one of them says. Lincoln and I look at one another and smile. “Okay, we’ll go to jail and give you whatever you want!”

“We want you to shut up,” I say.

“You have nothing we want,” Lincoln adds, “We just want what we deserve. We want what you took from us. We want justice. Isn’t that right?”

The people behind us cheer and start chanting, “Justice! Justice! Justice!”

“Whoever wants to take the honor of dethroning these tyrants can take the first shots while there’s still enough of them left to shoot,” I say.

People start stepping up and shooting the Center City’s leaders to bits. Lincoln and I stand by and watch as the Center City’s leaders are shot like criminals lined up for execution. Even though the hail of bullets doesn’t kill them, they are hardly in a condition that would be considered alive. Once more people step up and take their shots and it’s obvious that our enemy is dead, I have an idea to put a bow on this gift we’ve been given. Inspired by what they do to the people who rebel against them, I take their bodies, put ropes around their necks, and hang them out the window for everyone to see. Believe it or not, this isn’t as bad as what they do since the people they punish like this are kept outside with a noose around their neck as they stand on a narrow ledge for the entire day until nighttime and have to repeat it the next day until their sentence is served. This sight is broadcasted on the digital advertising boards thanks to the help of our friends from yesterday. They then give me access to the speaker systems across Center City.

“Behold your gods! Your leaders! Your oppressors. Today they have paid the price of their crimes. Despite everything they have thrown at us, we have overcome them and taken back our city, our home. Rejoice for today is the day Old America has died! Celebrate America’s rebirth under its new leaders who will treat its citizens like family rather than slaves! Today we have made history! Today we have taken back our freedom! Today victory is ours!”

Everyone behind me in the building and outside of it cheers. It sounds as if the entire city is cheering and celebrating together with one voice. I hope my family in Heaven is smiling down on me. I hope they’re proud of what I’ve done because I’ve finally accomplished what they raised me to do.

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.”

Good Criminals and Good Fridays: Chapter 1 – Criminals Against the Criminals

Chapter 1 – Criminals Against the Criminals

Being at my mom and dad’s grave reminds me of what I’m fighting for. My dad was part of a group called The Boys. They were boys on Juniper Street who wanted to fix their city and obtained various leadership positions in the city to do so. My dad was different from the other boys in that he ran our family’s bakery and helped people on the street by giving them food or referring them to his friends. He was known as the Father of the South City by everyone in this city once known as the city of brotherly love. It’s gained the name of the city of America’s top five crime capitals, but with my dad and his friends in charge, that reputation quickly went away.

He was by no means a perfect man or a pacificist. While he went on his daily walks, he would always carry around knuckle dusters just in case he got jumped or had to save someone in need. Just like today, in his time, the police only bother patrolling the Center City and rarely bother with other districts, so the neighbors have to take care of their own. There were rumors that he and his friends would make bums swim across the Delaware River if they refused to change their ways. Even though there were bodies found in the river, no one could connect them to him or his friends nor do the cops who invest these murders bother since we had and still have plenty of family in the force.

The time of his death was sudden. My dad was taking his usual walks when he came across a crippled stranger who needed help getting to a hospital after he got into a fight with the scum of the city. Since it wasn’t too far, my dad carried the guy all the way to the hospital. When the man was good enough to walk, he wanted to thank my dad who was in the waiting room seemingly asleep with his rosary beads in his hand. Now, my dad had trouble being awake for the whole day because of his old age, but this time it was discovered that he died because of some kind of heart condition. What’s strange is that everyone around him and who passed by him didn’t know he was dead and it’s said that he looked as peaceful and glowing as an angel, which honestly should’ve tipped them off. Regardless, his life and how he died are more than enough evidence to prove to me that he’s in Heaven.

On the other hand, my mom didn’t get the same kind of honorable death. She, like the other wives of The Boys, kept their husbands happy and focused on God and their families so that they wouldn’t be corrupted by the temptations of power. Unlike the other wives who were teachers, nurses, or housewives, my mom helped clean our local parish and was an administrative assistant for them. On the day she died, she was being driven around by my best friend, Vito, since I didn’t have time to take her out shopping. Since she was tired, Vito let her rest in the car while he went into a deli we frequently go to pick up lunch. It was then she was shot in the car by a mysterious person who drove away after the cowardly deed was done. Vito was so distraught by my mom dying under his care that he killed himself as a way of atoning or at least that's what he said he was doing in his suicide note.

This flood of memories is enough to bring tears to my eyes, but I can’t cry in front of my family, especially when they are crying themselves and need someone to lead them. I was chosen to be the Don of South City and I will not let those who look up to me down. My God and my family are watching from above and beside me. There can be no sign of weakness or mistake in my behavior that would make them sigh in disappointment or look away in shame.

“Heads up, Tommy,” a family member whispers to me as he points to a group of armed men approaching me.

While I’m still looking at the grave of my parents, the leader of the men walks into my field of view, and says, “Look at me, Tommy. The Boys are dying off and so is their power and influence over the city. Now’s the time to stop.”

“Now’s not the time to talk about this,” I say with my eyes still staring at the grave.

“I say it’s time, so give me an answer.”

“I’m not going to.”

“Listen, do you know who I am? Do you know what I can do to you and your family?”

“Do you know who I am? I’m my father's and mother’s son. You’re a nobody who doesn’t know his place in our family. If you want to give up control of South City to the feds or some other gang, then pick a time and place for our fight, and then I’ll feed your corpse to the pigs on my cousin’s farm, but not here. Have some respect for the dead.”

“Suit yourself then. If you’re not going to fight, then this’ll be easy for me.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see the punk and his family taking out their guns only for them to be shot by the grave tender and the priest who work in the cemetery. My family hardly has to help them and I don’t move a muscle until the shooting stops. When the dust settles, the leader is still alive, so I take out my dad’s knuckle dusters and hit him three times. Once for my dad, once for my mom, and the last time for the dead that he disrespected. I then wave to the grave tender and point to a coffin. He nods and brings it over to an empty grave while I bring over the coffin’s occupant to it.

“H-hey! Where are you taking me?” the idiot says.

“You wanted an early grave so I’m giving you one,” I say.

“Please, wait! Have mercy on me, Don!”

“You’ll have plenty of time to ask God to have mercy on your soul.”

With the grave tender and help from my family, we bury the leader alive as the priest prays. Even as the grave is filled with dirt, I can hear the man scream from inside the coffin and I can almost swear I still hear his screams once the hole is fully filled.

“Requiescat in pace, bastardo,” I say before making the sign of the cross.

I nod to the grave tender and priest and pay them to take care of the bodies here. Now that our business is done here, we head out to the ghettos of North City where we have a meeting set up with some old members of the family. We go to a local butcher, say the password, and am led downstairs to meet with the leader of the North City gang, Lincoln, a man of dark skin dressed to impress in a red vest and black dress shirt, slacks, and dressy shoes. He sits at a table filled with weapons and a map of the city with various points of interest marked. My men stay outside to make small talk with the other members of his gang and keep an eye out for trouble.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I say with my hand outstretched.

Lincoln shakes my hand and then says, “It’s about time we met, Don of South City.”

I sit down at the table.

“Circumstances and past rivalries have kept this meeting at the back of my schedule, but now it’s here at the front. Let’s cut to the chase. I need your help. I can offer you guns, men, and our connections.”

“What about any future rewards or collaborations? I know we’re meeting not mainly because you want to put the past behind us, but because you want justice for your mom. I’m not saying it’s a good reason. I’m just wondering if we’ll have the reassurance that you won’t leave us out to dry this time.”

“Where is this coming from?”

“In case you somehow don’t know, my dad was one of the Boys. He and his friends were given control of North City while your dad and his friends had South. Despite having an important role, he didn’t have much help from the Boys and their allies and was killed during a protest.”

“I was told by my dad that they were unable to help because they were busy snuffing out fires caused by the feds in South City.”

“Right, so busy in fact that we hardly got any help from South City afterward.”

“It was a devastating loss to the Boys. Every member of the Boy’s and their children bring flowers to your dad’s grave.”

“They do the same for your dad and the other Boys that have died. I know the past is the past and there’s nothing that can be done to change it. All I want to be assured of is added support for the people of North City.”

“You’ll get it. You have my word.”

“How can I know that I can trust your word?”

“By the fruits of our labor. I’ll show you that I’m not only my father and mother’s son but someone better that they would be proud of.”

“We’ll see about that, pinstripe. Where do you get fancy suits like the ones that you and your larping mob have by the way? I might get a suit when I settle down.”

“I know a guy on twenty-five-thirty-seven South Broad Street that I can hook you up with. Also, we’re not larpers. We’re not even like the mob. Just inspired by their style.”

“A style you seem more than a hundred percent dedicated to with your suits, tommy guns, and ways.”

Gunshots from above catch our attention. We grab pistols from the table and go upstairs to see a couple of people I know, a few of Lincoln’s men, and several police officers having a gunfight with our men. Lincoln and I join in and take cover behind the counter.

“We were double crossed, boss,” a family member says. “They tried to convince us to join them or die.”

“I see that and thank you for your loyalty. What I want to know is why they’re being so bold,” I say.

“You can try asking them, but I don’t think they’re in a talking mood,” Lincoln says.

“I wasn’t going to ask them. We’ll find out from those who ordered them to do this. Traitors don’t deserve mercy.”

“That makes two of us,” Lincoln says before calling for reinforcements.

After a few minutes, his backup arrives and gets enough heat off us so we can leave the butcher and push back the feds and traitors. Eventually, with the help of some of the people of North City who pull out their guns to help, we send them running back to the Center City. The crowd around us cheers and yells at the retreating feds to go back where they came from. A car parks down the street and a group of family members run toward me.

“Boss! I got in contact with one of our officers in the police force! They’ve heard of the feds bringing the enforcers here to bring both the North and South cities back under their complete control and now they know they’re going to do it for sure,” a family member says.

“They’re a little late with the information. Why are they bringing that information to us now?” I ask.

“Because the feds knew that we had men in their ranks and kept it secret as they could and our friends didn’t want to act on unprovable rumors.”

“Makes sense. Okay, get them to sabotage the feds’ plans as much as they can and keep us updated.”

“You got it, boss.”

“What’s our next move, pinstripe? The feds have made their move and now we’re against Old America,” Lincoln says.

“Now…” I say before turning to the crowd that’s listening to us, “Now, we defend our homes and families. It’s just that simple. Old America died when those in power were corrupted by it and those under them decided to lick their boots rather than fight for their God given rights. The Boys took steps to get back what was theirs and give America back to its people and bring it back to the roots that made it great to begin with. Even though there aren’t many of them left and their influence is dying, the fight isn’t over yet. We are the next generation and will continue the fight to take what is rightfully ours. This is our task, our legacy, our war to wage on the bastards that would rather us be slaves than free men. This is our time, so let’s get to work.”

The crowd cheers and claps. I even get Lincoln to nod and clap for my speech.

“Nice speech, pinstripe. It actually gives me some hope that we’ll do what you say,” Lincoln says.

“I will. You ready, partner?” I say with my hand out.

“More than ready,” he says before firmly shaking my hand.