Chapter 23: Chapter 23

One of his men plucks the black hoods from their heads, one by one.

They shake out the haze from their minds, pixilated vision clearing, images congealing into something formidable.

Aries sits enthroned on a weathered armchair, robed in his black and white leather jacket with his adorned hands planted on the arms.

He is surrounded by a crowd of new recruits, foot soldiers and corner boys alike, occupying the vast expanse of cold metal and machinery.

Their bosses—the higher-ups—commanders and their lieutenants fill the upper tier to the brim, watching from above, some leaning against the railing.

Jax stands at Aries’s right side.

This is a trial, hosted at one of Mr. King’s subsidiary factories. Mr. King as in Alister King’s father, who belongs to the founding fathers of Braidwood, coming from old money.

Five men kneel before Aries with their hands bound behind their backs.

“Speak,” he says with his eyes set on only one of them.

“I’m—”

“Not you,” he says, not looking at the other four. His eyes prod him pointedly. “You.”

The middle-aged man looks around, his eyes skittering fearfully to the others as if in repentance.

“I got in the game because I wasn’t making enough at my old deadbeat jobs.” His voice thick with fear.

“My daughter…She has acute heart disease. I needed a lot of money and fast or my baby was going to die.~ I was desperate~. And they knew that, I don’t know how.”

“They who?”

“The Gokudō. An ambitious Oyabun broke from the Yakuza to start his own syndicate and they have global ties. And they came to this side recently. They started with Lakeshore and now they looking to expand into Braidwood.”

Aries spreads his legs and leans forward to drop his forearms on his thighs. The man freezes, like he’s in the presence of a predator and any sudden movement can provoke an attack.

“They paid me and others to tell them when major loads were coming. And whatever activity we were cleared to know. As low ranks, it was never a lot.”

Aries nods slowly. His undisturbed reaction is distressing to all.

“The Yakuza are one of the most sophisticated crime organizations. They cover their illegal dealings behind profitable, legit businesses. And wars are bad for business.

“Which is why they’re trying to take us out from the inside, trying to tip off cops and have them monitor our operations until they can make a big bust.”

He rises from his seat, twisting one of his many silver rings pensively.

“Whereas me, I don’t go around no one.” Aries stalks to them, then he curves to round him, strolling behind the row of kneeled men.

“I like a frontal assault with brute force, crushing my enemies to the point they’re too scared to get back up. Let alone try to come at me again.”

Aries stops when he’s in front of them, poised at the center. The new recruits watch with bug eyes, losing breaths. The fear stems from uncertainty, because Aries is unpredictable and volatile, which makes him dangerous.

“I’m in a rare mood today.” He claps his hands once, giving them a shark-like smile. “If this had been any other kind of thing, a cheap rip—I might have looked the other way.

“There is a proverb I like that says: a thief is only a thief when he has been caught. And you all have been caught”—his finger flicks to the guy on the left end⁠—“except for him. He confessed.

“And that is why he alone will live.”

Aries backs away to settle back on the chair, lounging on it as if it were a throne.

“Bring in our guests,” he orders.

A heavy-duty side door opens. A groaning sound, many scuffling footsteps enter, and the door shuts behind them with a clang.

An enforcer drags in a line of shackled people, chains rattling, the sound of metal striking metal sounds into the entire factory for a fraught moment, accompanied by an orchestra of whimpering and sobbing.

These people are the family members of the traitorous four: fathers, mothers, and children alike. People that belong to Edgemond, which is why their deaths will go unnoticed.

The four men erupt into shameless begging, even folding forward with their faces to the earthen ground, pleading profusely like sending fervent prayers to a deity for salvation.

“~Shh~,” Aries hushes with cruel calm.

Fear mutes all sounds from the men on trial and their families.

“My grandpops, and his father, and his father before him, as you may know, they built this organization with their hands from the ground up.

“They dealt with countless rivals, growing strong in the face of their enemies until they were the last ones standing. Paving a clean road for me to focus on…~expansion.~”

Anger ripples through him, waking something in him that everyone fears.

“What you did nearly set us back four generations. The cops have always been sniffing around these parts but now you gave them a bone to chew on.

“And you made us look weak and divided, sending a message to others to challenge our interests as they have.

“Now we must send a message of our own.”

Aries relaxes into his seat and motions his approval to the enforcer. He then nods and signals to the others.

More of them filter out from the masses to stand by behind each of the prisoners, a mother, or a sister, one posted behind each family member.

Aries gives the order. Gunshots shatter the air like reverberating thunder, blood bursting in the bags over their heads, all of them dropping to the ground simultaneously. And soon a halo of red grows around their heads.

The enforcers execute the wailing traitors next.

“Their deaths were not to punish the traitors,” Aries says, his words like pebbles thrown in the depthless pit of silence. “This was a warning to all of you to not to do the same.

“Our enemies and those who are watching will see that we are cleaning house, cleaning it of rats and…other problems.”

Aries pushes himself back up and strolls over to the quivering survivor, his lips trembling. He lowers to a squat before him.

“Do you know who this oyabun is or the location of his primary base?”

The man only manages an unsteady headshake. At first. His mind gathers jumbled words into coherent sentences.

“Uh, no. But I know his kumicho…one time he ordered me to meet with one of his senior advisers at a gambling house, they use as a front to launder money.

“A lot of his top executives are there but it’s super fortified, high tech, with elite security.”

The coppery scent of blood rises like a miasma to overwhelm his senses.

And Aries grins.

***

“Having trouble?”

Felix’s eyes remain on the splay of monitors, fingers running over the keyboard with expert ease.

Calculation flits through his darting eyes, working on bypassing the security system, and capturing data packets to obtain passwords and other sensitive data.

“I’ve already knocked down the firewall, their system’s security is 256-bit AES, end-to-end encryption. They’re either really ignorant or arrogant.”

He plugs in another device into the computer.

“What’s that?” Jax asks, hunched over on the other side.

“It’s like an EMP that will send a transient electromagnetic disturbance. It will disable their communications like a jamming field so they won’t be able to call for the calvary.

“But I will have full control of their entire system, surveillance, lights, doors in…3…2…” He taps the last button. “Showtime.”

Jax ruffles his coily locks. “Showtime,” he repeats, with macabre merriment.

Aries activates his earpiece, and Jax does the same before he slides the door to the side.

Squadrons of armed men disperse from the vans like a black swarm, equipped with military-grade rifles they traffic across state lines and international waters, mounted with premium carbon silencers.

Aries takes the lead as the others link together, lining up behind him in two neat rows of fifty combatants.

“Felix, kill the lights and open the gates.”

“Your wish”—Felix’s typing echoes in the comms—“is my command.”

Section by section, a wave of darkness sweeps over the structure. And the wrought-iron gate opens inwards and they pass through pair by pair, greeted by ill-prepared security guards.

Before the guards can even lift their weapons, bullets blitz through their foreheads and they collapse to the ground.

Aries motions his men to cover the perimeter, sending a team to split off in either direction to surround all the exits. And then he nods over Jax to take point and make the first breach.

Jax goes up the staircase, skipping steps to reach the giant oak door. The rifle he carries is so large that it occupies both of his hands with it held against his chest.

He knocks politely on the door and pivots to stand on the left side in a crouched position. The door cracks open and he fires a shot.

A man falls and the door swings open, his body sprawling on top of the staircase.

Aries steps over him and the rest of his crew follow them into the opulent entrance hall with travertine tiles.

Another guard goes for his pistol…and is disabled by an elbow to the face by Aries, who swivels out of the way so Jax can take him out and then double tap two others.

Aries dodges as his men spray fire into the dead men’s comrades. A tide of adversaries rolls out from the corridor.

Aries whips out his gun and charges at a gunman, strikes his throat, and blasts him under his chin.

His men take care of the rest until there is nothing but corpses littering their path with blood splattered across the walls like abstract art.

“Felix, switch the lights on zone by zone as we go.”

“Affirmative.”

The corridors are awash in a black wave, exposing their advent sector by sector, startling the blinded guards, shooting them down as easy as playing a video game.

Aries’s men go ahead, unleashing barrages of gunfire with lethal precision, infiltrating with tactical movement, grouped in formation. Last, they enter a huge open circular space that leads into different sections.

“You have incoming!” Felix yells.

Aries’s eyes snap to one of the passages.

He dives to the ground and fires two shots. Each strike gets both gunmen in their guts and they crash to the floor.

Aries rolls behind a nearby pillar, and another gunman approaches. Aries pretends to be injured, baiting him.

The guard continues to creep closer, and when he’s close enough. Aries finishes him with a double tap to the chest. He convulses from each shot and drops to the ground.

Another three spout in his place. Aries ducks away to take cover, morsels of the pillar blasting off at the hail of bullets.

Aries slides up against the pillar. When he hears clicking sounds, he whips out to fire three shots and three more souls join the Grim Reaper’s harvest.

Aries’s breathing hitches—someone grabs him from behind. But he’s wounded and weaponless. Aries pivots sharply and leverages the man’s weight to flip him over his shoulder and onto the floor.

And he finishes him off with a chokehold. The man thrashes, his attempt rendered futile. Aries sinks to the ground with him, cutting off his air supply until eventually, he goes completely still.

Aries quickly ejects the clip, the dead gunman between his arms as he calmly reloads—chambers a round. He throws off his deadweight and continues onwards.

Jax and the others handle the remainder and once they do, they graduate to the final level.

Aries passes through the last corridor with suited figures slumped against the walls.

The narrow lane widens up into a colossal space. The gambling areas are located around the vertical column lit by a big mesh of aluminum slats. Oversized tokens are drawn on the ground to enhance the symbol of the game.

Aries’s men do a rapid sweep of the recreational zones, setting their sights on suited men with their hands held in the air.

“What nurtured the daunting impression of the Black organization was the mystery of who ran it,” a Japanese man says with a refined accent.

“All knew the name Haru Black, and there were speculations on who took over once he died. Some said the line of succession continued, carrying tradition.

“Haru didn’t have a son, but he had a grandson. No one would believe that a ~child~ is the mastermind, exerting his dominance by spreading such terror.”

The man stops at the top of a wide three-step staircase.

“My superior did you the courtesy of trying to take you out quietly. For the sake of your grandfather.” He slips his hands into his trouser pockets. “Just because we choose peace does not mean we’re not ready for war.”

He pauses, smiling disdainfully. “But all I see is a child throwing a tantrum. ~Furumau ka, watashi wa anata o watashi no hiza no ue ni okimasu.~” ~Behave, or I will put you over my knee~.

The suited men rumble a laugh.

Jax appears behind the leader, pressing the barrel of his rifle against his head. “We’ll see who will be laughing at the end. Move.” And with that, he forces him down the steps, then stops him when he stands before Aries.

“I don’t know what gives people the impression that I give a shit about their opinions.” Aries sizes the man up and moves so that they are nose to nose. ~“Watashi wa shimasen—”~ ~I don’t~, he says in fluent Japanese.

The man nods and smiles at the ground. He jerks aside—out of the line of fire—and whips around to deliver Jax a crescent kick to send him staggering back.

The man’s head whisks forward. He freezes.

“Move again and you’ll be breathing from your forehead,” Aries says with a malevolent glint in his eyes.

~“Anata wa kore o kōkai surudeshou.”~ ~You will regret this~.

“Tell your superior that the Badlands and Braidwood are Black-owned. No pun intended.”

Aries removes his pistol from the man’s forehead, bringing his arms behind his back, his wrist crossed over the other.

“My organization is affiliated with branches of the Yakuza that are more powerful than you. And I have networks from here to the Sierra Madre in Northern Mexico.”

Aries frees a sardonic laugh. “Going to war infers either side fighting to lay their claim and grow their territory. I fight to destroy. I won’t come for you.”

He walks away and saunters around to seize everyone’s attention. “I will come for those you love, your families, and I will bathe your homes in blood.”

^INTERLUDE: Secrets That Are Best Kept Secret^

^NINE YEARS AGO^

Erin made it to Table Bridge with her backpack on.

She had been there a while, contemplating her absurdity. It was crazy! Completely bonkers, she thought.

She couldn’t believe she had convinced herself to do this, now she couldn’t talk herself out of it. Somehow tethered to the promise she made—to something she wasn’t even sure was real.

But there was only one way to find out.

Her bag was secured to her back, special because it was waterproof. If what happened before happened again, she would not come out of it soaked.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

A moment of madness prompted her to jump.

She dropped inside, but this time there were no glorious lights, only an extraordinary feeling. A countercurrent whirled her around like doing a forward flip in water, only to rise to the surface.

Erin broke through to see marble walls and decorative statues lining the walls.

“No way.”

She sloshed through the water and vaulted over the ledge with her backpack still strapped to her back. The temperature was so warm it made her forget that she was drenched to the bone, loose hair plastered to her head.

Erin exited the chamber and dumped her bag by the archway, ignoring the corridors to go down the passageway, departing from the edifice and emerging outside.

“Tzelem!”

She clapped her hands over her mouth, remembering that the white-masked creature wasn’t the only one that resided in the Black Glade.

Erin nearly turned back until she heard a chorus of whispers flit to her ears. She rotated to face the tree line of the forest readily. She took a few daring steps, apprehensive of its delayed entrance.

“Tzelem?” she said in a covert voice.

Shudders electrified her spine, and she snapped straight, feeling a powerful presence befall her. She spun around to see an ornamental white mask.

Erin fumbled back in fright, sticking out her arms to regain her balance and keep from falling.

“You scared me!”

The Sporkah sent an apology.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m more shocked that you’re actually real than…how you look.”

The Sporkah didn’t take offense to this.

“I mean you do look…I can’t explain it.”

It didn’t how to respond to her bafflement.

“Can you show me more of your home? If you want.”

The creature twirled around her like a mirthful ribbon of shadows. It appeared behind her and draped her turquoise jacket over her already damp clothes, no longer dripping.

Erin looked down with a smile and put it on even though it was hot, but she left it open.

He instructed her to follow. And she did.

Together they embarked on a journey into the Black Glade, always dark, always night.

“I can’t believe this is happening—that you exist. A whole world in the river.”

The Sporkah corrected her.

“Oh, I know now that it was a portal, but that’s the kind of stuff you hear in movies and books. How was I supposed to know that it’s actually real?”

The Sporkah told her that humans are not an ingenious species. They merely took what they knew and molded it into their own shape, taking inspiration from something else to make another.

Nothing new, but fragments of the old to make something different.

“How would they know about something like this existing, when you said I was the only human here?”

The answer was simple. She was not like other humans. But she wasn’t ready to know that.

Not yet.

The Sporkah placated her with an ambiguous answer, claiming it had been watching humans for epochs from the one-way-mirror dimension. And it had. Its opinion of them was far worse than it was able to express.

“Why can’t humans know about creatures like you and worlds like these?”

The answer was simple, and that time it relayed it. Humans were an inflammable species with self-destructive tendencies, bearing primitive bigotry and savagery that caused little distinctions between them and animals.

Mankind would reject them, cause conflict and the same disasters and strife that plague their world would infect others.

Humanity could not be trusted with its own existence, let alone the knowledge of the existence of other species when it could not even accept races of its own.

Humans were a poison to themselves and would be a cancer to others.

Erin didn’t agree with its explanation.

“We’re not that bad.” Then she thought of Leonard. “At least not all of us. Some of us are good. My dad…he was good. My aba was the kindest man ever, and I loved him so much.

“And my friends,” she swooned. “My friends are good, too. Humans are just…broken, but not bad. Many of us don’t mean to hurt anyone, like Aries.

“Aries has a bad temper. He likes hitting people, but only because he’s upset. His grandma is sick and his grandpa is scary. And he doesn’t live with his parents, he won’t tell us anything.

“But I know Aries is a nice person, broken but not bad.”

The Sporkah asserted that it was a choice to be broken.

Everyone was a product of their upbringing but had a choice to break or continue the cycle. There was no reason to treat someone badly if something bad was done to them—that was how the cycle continued.

And that was all humans knew: vengeance, greed, and debauchery. It was hard-wired into their nature and why they would never change.

That was what made them so irredeemable.

Erin paused. “If you hate humans so much, why am I here? Why did you save me from those things—actually, what were those things?”

Those creatures were hellions. And it didn’t just hate, but it abhorred humans, but not her. She was different. She was special. Erin didn’t understand this because it refused to expound on why.

It wasn’t time yet.

Suddenly, the trees fell away, and the ground beneath her was carved into a beak-shaped cliff. Awe robbed her of her senses and watered down her irritation.

Erin eased carefully forward, cresting the brink of a gargantuan canyon, but beyond, the sky was afire with red embers and oranges. It was high and bright and salved both spirit and soul.

The grass from the highlands was a wonderland green. Squillions of heavens’ dewdrops were sprinkled over the meadow like stardust. Spears of dusky light suddenly drenched the farthest corners with their fiery magic.

“This…it’s like an entire planet. There’s more to this place than the woods?”

There was so much more, but the Sporkah was doomed to roam the dark timberland for all time. Unless it was released by something or someone that bore equivalent power to the ones who banished it.

“That’s horrible. Why?”

Others feared its power, its darkness, so they had it confined.

“Acting out of fear?” Erin forced herself to look away from the picturesque view and back onto it. “Sounds like something a human would do.”

The Sporkah understood the humor behind her words but knew not how to laugh.

“Okay.” She spared the distant dream one last glance before she retreated to the woods. “What else can you show me? Perhaps somewhere we can both go.”