The neon lights brushed against Leon's face; the rain fell from the sky, and as the heavy downpour fell upon his shoulders, it reminded him of the burdens that lay on him; the flashes of Marcus's downward spiral to madness reminded him of his cruelty, and that compassion dwindled as he remembered his familiar phrase, "there were no innocents in the crime world."
Every action the syndicate took was an action he ordained. He looked at the bar that stood like a needle among haystacks. Leon held open the door to enter; he was politely seated at the far corner of the bar. Immediately, the bartender brought him a Kiwi drink with pumpkin pie. The pie looked delectable; the crust was flaky yet tender. The aroma gently stimulated his olfactory senses, and the cutlery in his hands held a potion that made his mouth water from how flavourful the pie was as he ravaged the pie without remorse. This meal was the only reminder of a man he called family—who always endangered his life for freedom. "I remember when he would eat the pie here like there was no tomorrow," Leon's eyes watered in contrast to his genuine smile as he spoke to himself thoughtfully. The pie reminded the young man of the pleasantries of life.
The intergram in Leon's pocket suddenly buzzed. "Accept and secure communication," murmured Leon. There was a tiny chime that signalled a connection. Leon wore an earpiece and listened to the call. "Greetings, boss. The initial phase of elimination has concluded. We are moving on to the next phase of screening young people not qualified to manage the syndicate's objective of completely revamping the state's current operations.
Furthermore, Charlotte and Maria's identities have been changed, and they are currently being transported to The State of Babel, according to the medic. Marcus's mind has also regressed to account for the traumatic experience he witnessed in the astral projection. Report Closed. He summarised the news, asking, "Is there a command you need to be relayed to headquarters?"
After hearing the report, Leon broke into a cold sweat while investigating his surroundings out of habit," Charlie, I need you to undertake a reconnaissance mission on the Advert Crudis and gather info on their track; Anastasia is currently undertaking a similar mission concerning the Hounds, I suspect an alliance or a ploy by a third party to disrupt our standard operations."
"Affirmative boss, but… you don't look-"
"I'm fine, Charlie," Leon said suddenly, irritated. Quickly, Leon reflected and apologised." I'm sorry, I haven't been myself lately. After the mission, let us have a drink," Leon solemnly said before getting interrupted by Charlie. "Why are you raising death flags so soon? I have not even gotten married and tabs on you after the mission. See you later, brother," Charlie cheekily said before disconnecting the InterCall.
Miles away at a different section of the city, Charlie lay upon his luxurious bed as he peeked through his windows to see the weather from a rising apartment. Even though the soft snowfall was falling beautifully on Corinth's streets, he had a pained expression on his face. He looked at his tastefully furnished antiques, his clothes, and his cardboard box from a bygone era that was kept in a showcase as a fair reminder of life on the streets; those were the days long since past when he would lay his cardboard box out on the hard pavement as he sought comfort in his dreams amidst Corinth's bitter cold. He recalled his experience with hypothermia. Some dubbed it the gentle death. Rather than face the agony of starvation, he had witnessed the homeless people pass away voluntarily and peacefully. All age groups and walks of life were rife with the unfathomable desperation and hopelessness that pervaded these streets. He had seen the homeless do everything in their power to save abandoned newborn infants, only to meet their demise one after the other. Without as much as an outcry, the world kept on spinning. One could only feed oneself by assimilating and adopting the world's ways; food could not be placed on the streets by his pure hands, and this was the lesson he learnt about this world the hard way.
He snapped himself out of his thoughts to think about Leon's mental state. His belief was corroding his thoughts.
"Leon…Brother…I have to send him out after this; all this darkness is taking a toll on him. I have to make my brother achieve his goal of overhauling the current affairs of the state; in the meantime, let me make reservations and get him some downtime after the mission," Charlie amusingly thought as he dialled Anastasia's number on his old intergram to see how preparations were coming up and a candidate capable of being his spiritual successor, yet the InterCall did not go through, "Diligent as always,"
At the forest near the Ibizan Harbour at 3 am, the sky above was filled with dark clouds as the snow fell on the trees, yet there were no city lights near the base.
Anastasia stood out of the hound's base; she pulled her coat tighter around herself as small white clouds escaped through her mouth and nose. She pulled her hyper-optic binoculars to observe as she wrote the routine of the hound members on her smart pad. The absence of city lights was not an oversight but a design; each member knew the terrain by default as a preventive act from the invasion of other crime groups. However, this would lead to their downfall. They had become too comfortable for their own good.
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Anastasia checked her watch; its soft blue glow was the only light source for yards around. It was 2:57 AM. The Hounds' shipment would arrive soon. She tapped the watch twice, activating its built-in comms.
Seekers, status report," she whispered.
"All clear on the north side, ma'am; we are still seeking," Kaelin humoured in a low tone.
Behave Kaelin, Retrievers?
"East is secure; no signs of movement,"
"The data has been transferred to headquarters. Update recorded data if any data is unaccounted for," Anastasia whispered to both teams. Everything is in place. This reconnaissance mission was crucial—if there is an alliance between the Hounds, it will occur tonight, according to the data extracted from Marcus. "The shipment is going to arrive soon, and the boss has to know what is inside it," Anastasia emphasised as he re-tied her loose black-grey hair into a bun like he used to tie it for her. She quickly made her way out of the forest and close to the base's walls. As these guards' rotations took place, she viewed the shipment location.
As the Aerolift came into Anastasia's view, she marvelled at how grand the cargo was. The Aerolift model looked more advanced and sleeker, with the shipment being larger and more sophisticated. She was finally sure that the hounds wanted to launch an attack on them, but who was their supplier? How much influence did they possess, and what could they gain? All those questions popped into her mind. Unbeknownst to her and the world, the answers lay right under everyone's nose.
A hand clamped over her mouth from behind. In one fluid motion, she gripped her assailant's arm, twisting it sharply as she drove her knee upward. A muffled grunt of pain rewarded her efforts.
Anastasia's fingers closed around the hilt of her concealed blade. In a heartbeat, she spun, the knife arcing towards her attacker's throat—only to freeze mid-strike as recognition dawned.
"Dammit, Kaelin," she hissed, lowering the weapon. "You were a hair's breadth from a severed jugular."The young man before her—head clean-shaven—doubled over, one hand clutching his groin, the other hovering protectively near his neck.
"Ma'am," Kaelin gasped, "you went dark. No, status update. I had to... confirm your safety."
Anastasia was slightly sceptical. But before she could ask questions, the commotion from the harbour grasped her attention. The hovercraft had docked, and figures emerged from the shadows to meet it. Among them was a face Anastasia recognised so well—the leader of the Hounds himself.
"Interesting," Kaelin whispered. "Change is coming,"
Anastasia's mind was in turmoil.
Aside from the head of Advert Crudis and other significant players in the crime world, central official personnel and unknown assailants also arrived. This wasn't just a simple alliance, as the boss had anticipated—they were forming a crime union—far more significant than we all assumed.
"Boss Leon has to be informed about this. Our demise might have already taken motion," a panic-stricken Anastasia whispered. She raised her wrist to send a distress message to Leon, but as she tapped the watch, the screen remained dark.
"Jammed," Kaelin said as he attempted to inform headquarters about the newfound intel. "There must be a dampening field."
Anastasia's eyes narrowed. "Then we have to do this the old-fashioned way. Are you up for it, Kaelin?
"Always up for a risky infiltration," said Kaelin as a smile curled on his face.
As they prepared to move, Anastasia couldn't help but feel that something was off, but she could not wait to find out—the fate of the syndicate and perhaps Corinth's current state of affairs hung in the balance.
Anastasia nodded to Kaelin, and the two of them quickly moved around the guards at their blind spots as they got closer to the shipment. They broke the guards' necks to see the shipped goods without hindrance when the cargo opened, and they were shocked to see weapons and equipment so sophisticated and plentiful that they could outfit a squadron.
"War," Anastasia and Kaelin simultaneously exclaimed.
Anastasia and Kaelin crept along the edge of the shipment and made their way to the meeting. The snow muffled their movements, and as they got closer to the conference, more bits of conversation could be heard.
At the conference, the 30' x 30' black marbled room was decorated with murals of the ancient past; the chandeliers illuminated the room with vibrant peach colour, and the black chairs were filled with men and women who could shift the balance of the crime and political worlds in their entirety.
A robust and ambitious man clothed in red started the conference with a statement that could only be agreed upon by some seated there. The subject of the matter was a man who would stop at nothing to take, and who was this man who made these prominent figures conflicted—the Leader of the Syndicate, Leon?
"Greetings, ladies and gentlemen. We are here to officially have a meeting as a union. To ensure we are undisputed in all of Corinth, one organisation must be wiped out: the syndicate. It has to be snuffed out from the map since its leader decided to be independent. Other groups have followed in his footsteps and are rebelling against us," the head of the Hounds said vigorously.
Across the circular table, a calm, temperamental old man in a white suit looked at the hound's leader with a pity gaze.
"Hans, you are underestimating Leon. He's not to be messed with. The syndicate serves as a deterrent, not a weakness. The wisest decision is to take control of weaker crime groups and lure the syndicate into a sense of security while we build our forces and make an offer he cannot refuse. If that does not work, force will be our last resort," remarked the calm old man.
"Let's not forget what he did to the deviants. He is more like his father than I give credit," he murmured under his breath.
"When did we become so cowardly that we have to bargain with an organisation that has not been present for three years?" Hans intensely roared.
"Shut up, Hans. Watch your tone around us; we aren't the dogs you rule around these parts," scolded the leader of the Viper. She made it a point to remind him of their position. "We are criminals. We hide, we kill, and we bribe. Most of us got to our status through immoral methods; do not let the taste of power cloud your judgment. Any mistake on our part can lead to our death," said the head of Vipers with a cautionary demeanour.
"Calm down; we are all friends here. This is not the time. Let's cast a vote on whether we attack the syndicate in full force," said the woman in a blue suit.
"Let the vote begin."