Teaming up with Crisis might have been an error on my part.

In the month since our encounter with him, he'd apparently traveled all over the world. He'd contacted Rosita and myself a few times. He'd gone to Greece, Russia, Germany, Indonesia and lord knows where else.

He was building a team, an army. Now, we were on our way to do the same. But I didn't like our odds as much as I did his.

“Will you relax already?” came Rosita's voice from behind me.

“Am I really that obvious?” I asked back. I tried to sound relaxed, chipper even, but it probably didn't work.

If Rosita could read me so easily from looking at my damn back, then what chance did I have of holding power over an army.

This used to be a simple plan.

Follow the trail that the Houses of Doom had left behind, prove my worth to them and spur them to action.

Would that be easy?

Of course not. It bordered on impossible. But it wasn't. I'd seen it. When we discovered that first base, it all seemed so close. So feasible. I could see myself in front of the leaders of the Houses, giving an impassioned speech that–combined with my accomplishment in finding them–would spur them into action.

Order was manageable as well. A powerful enemy to be sure, but the blueprint to his defeat was within the Houses' archives. Call me naive but I genuinely believed I could handle him.

I couldn't handle Crisis. I thought that I could with the proper countermeasures. He was an ally, sure, but every other person that fancied themselves his ally ended up dead. He had outsmarted and outmatched criminal masterminds of all sorts and classes.

“We're screwed,” I said simply.

And it was no exaggeration. We were on a dirty guard's ship–the same one that got Rosita out in the first place–and were headed to a prison.

A prison that was in the middle of the pacific ocean. To free a bunch of second rate villains. Second rate villains that I'd have to convince following us was a good idea.

“I didn't come with you because of your pessimism,” said Rosita as she slapped me in the back. “I came with you because, when I escaped from the hell he we're going to, you were the one person that I could see doing great things.”

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“I'm green. I don't have the experience or connections that Crisis has. Neither do you,” I said, turning back to her. “And the reason you came with me is because, when you escaped, I offered you a shit ton of money.”

“Money that you'd conned off of people,” she shot back, indignantly. “You say you want to stand as an equal to the Houses of Doom–the sharpest of the sharpest, don't you? Crisis is nothing more than an obstacle. Get rid of him.”

With that she left, leaving me alone to watch the night sky and sea.

I took a deep breath.

We hadn't even reached the beginning. I couldn't lose myself now. Originally I'd wanted to use my and Rosita's relative anonymity–in that we were small-time criminals that weren't on anyone's radar–to act swiftly and decisively.

Crisis wanted to build a team. His words, his laughter and his tone made it clear that he wanted more. And I didn't know what that was. He held all the cards.

Unless I made sure that he didn't.

“Rosita!” I said at the top of my lungs.

Soon, she was next to me. “According to Dom we'll be there in a few hours.”

“Good. Because our job just got much more difficult and we'll need to adjust our plan. Not the prison break, no, but our long term plan.”

“Okay, you know I need an explanation, why did you pause there?”

“It's not just your cousin's group. We'll need more,” I said simply. It was insane, yes, but I needed insanity to overcome Crisis.

“This is too much even for you,” said Rosita with an eye roll. “Why would we even do that?”

“Because we need a group to parallel Crisis. We need enough people to run a separate base and separate operations.” I looked down. This was all too ambitious. I didn't set out to be a leader, a commander.

And yet I'd have to. Crisis, and the stories surrounding him, were anything but encouraging. If I wanted to beat him, if I even wanted to survive him, I’d need as many people as I could take.

“Anything regarding order will remain between us,” I continued. “Crisis and the people we free from here will not hear about him, or anything related to him, until we agree the time is right. As for the search for the Houses of Doom, we’ll have our own people shadow Crisis’ people. Understood?”

“I have some people that–if they are still there–could be helpful. But I don't like this.”

“I don't either. This is too uncertain. These power games are delicate. You always must be in control of a situation. I try to do that regardless, but this time–this time I don't know if I can.”

Rosita smirked. “There’s always the chance that you’re overestimating him.”

“I’d rather not take that risk.” I smirked back at her, before looking back out to the sea. Crisis would be a valuable asset, but also a double edged sword. I already had secured his allegiance, now all I’d need would be to secure myself against him.

Myself and Rosita, of course.

What had started as an alliance of convenience–we’d met when I was just starting out and she had broken out of the very prison we are heading toward–had grown to the only partnership I felt I could fully trust.

When we finally arrived near the prison, which looked like just a giant steel box in the middle of the ocean, Rosita handed me a gun with a silencer and told me to be ready for anything.