by Mason Dakota
Gulp.
No wonder Kraine wanted me here; he wanted to use me—to advance his political career. He clapped and others joined him. Theirs resembled quiet golf claps, the best I would ever get out of self-centered and self-righteous Nobles.
“Since I took office I’ve worked to improve life in Chicago, a city full of superior individuals. A few years ago, Griffon came to me wanting a job, and I knew right then he was destined for something big. I like to believe I saved his life that day.”
A few female guests literally said, “Awww.”
Am I a puppy rescued off the streets to them?
Kraine continued, “He started out in the mail room as a humble servant. Then two nights ago he saves the lives of countless individuals. After listening to the teachings I’ve poured into him for years, he was ready to act courageously when faced with danger. It brings me great pride to know he listened to me.”
I couldn’t believe the lies! I looked around, surprised to see how many believed him. Kraine used me as another step on his ego ladder to get him to whatever height or goal he sought.
Kraine said, “Three things I have been teaching him for years: courage, loyalty, and integrity. Today I am proud to say that Griffon is not only Chicago’s proudest citizen, but he is also the newest Outcast Emissary in my office. Tonight, he joins our ranks in pushing Chicago to higher limits until even the Emperor is jealous of what we can all accomplish here together. A boundless destiny is before us, and the journey starts tonight.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” said the devil himself.
It may have just been me, but I felt the air grow cold, as if all the happiness in the world was sucked out of the room. I, along with every Noble, turned my head toward the voice.
Several armed mercenaries strode into the room carrying machine guns. They circled around the already panicking guests and blocked all chances of escape. They sprayed bullets into the ceiling. Women screamed and men begged for mercy. Some guests pushed others in front of the armed thugs as human shields. I saw more mercenaries on the balcony. They forced people away from the exits.
“What’s going on?” panicked Alison. I paid no attention to her or to the armed men storming the party. I locked my focus on a deeper threat, one that could come only from the devil himself.
Ziavir Yiros.
Can’t have a party without the devil.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Ziavir Yiros pranced in behind his armed entourage like a king in a royal court. He wore a dark gray suit, a silk black shirt and a white tie, as if he could convey morality through wardrobe choices. He slowly clapped, and the room grew quiet. All eyes were on Ziavir.
“Good evening ladies and gentlemen. I apologize for the inconvenience. Unfortunately, the doormen wouldn’t let me in without an invitation. Thankfully, my friends here are very talented in making sure I get what I want,” Ziavir Yiros said.
“I’m sorry but this is a private party,” said Kraine. His voice sounded like a whimper.
Ziavir looked up at Kraine, pointed a finger at him and smiled. “That’s exactly what they said right before I stabbed them.” The crowd gasped and backed away. I saw blood on Ziavir’s gloves. At their gasping Ziavir chuckled, removed his gloves, and tossed them onto a table of food.
I hopelessly tried my best to hide. I prayed for mercy. I had no doubt Ziavir knew I was here. Erikson probably informed Nebula, who then brought in the cavalry. I looked around for the weasel; Erikson was nowhere to be found.
“I’ll ask nicely…that you leave immediately. If you do…I can promise that no charges…will be made against you,” said Kraine with that same tone of fear. Kraine looked worried. His eyes bounced from Ziavir to the nearest armed thug and back to Ziavir.
Ziavir strutted deeper into the crowd of party-goers and brushed the back of his hand across the cheek of one beautiful woman. “The real crime would be leaving early, especially before having one of these fine appetizers.”
He winked at the woman and swiped some sort of hors d’oeuvre off a serving table. He slipped it into his mouth, moaned with delight, licked his fingers, leaned over toward a gentleman, and said, “Now that is good!”
“Please…,” begged Kraine.
“Did you not invite me here?” shouted Ziavir, “Or did my invitation to work for you not include attending your little shindig here? I certainly think the work I’ve done for you deserves a little…compensation.” He flashed a smile at the nearest supermodel. She blushed.
The crowd looked up to Kraine. I was intrigued by what Ziavir might have meant. Kraine stuttered, “I don’t…I don’t know you…and I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course you don’t,” mocked Ziavir. He winked and kissed the hand of another attractive model who looked entertained by Ziavir. Her elderly husband snapped, “Get your hands off my wife!”
Big mistake, man.
“If you wish,” said Ziavir.
I never saw the gun.
A sudden ear-shattering roar deafened me, and the beautiful fashion model next to Ziavir screamed. The old man collapsed in a growing puddle of his blood. He gasped for air and pressed his hand against his blue shirt as it turned red. His wife dropped to her knees and laid her husband’s head on her knees. The old man choked on his blood. The model screamed for a doctor, but the man was already too far gone. Nobody moved to help her.
“She’s not your wife anymore. Consider yourself officially widowed,” said Ziavir. His entourage chuckled, but I saw deep sadness in Ziavir’s eyes.
He’s playing a role.
Ziavir turned to the rest of the guests and shouted over their panic, “It would be unwise to and detrimental to your personal health to defy my orders. I would be happy to reteach this lesson to anyone struggling to understand me.” He fired into the air to emphasize his point.
Some of the guests lost all capability to control their emotions. Men and women cried in disbelief and fear, likely not in compassion for the old man. Ziavir quietly watched the most sophisticated men and women of the city resort to primal instincts of fear and panic. Those men and women had never faced true terror in their lives, not like me. They had no way to process what they were experiencing.
“What are we going to do?” whispered Alison. She hoped for a plan I didn’t have.
Why can’t someone else come to the rescue for once?
I leaned over to whisper into her hair and earpiece. “I count six armed mercenaries, seven counting Ziavir. All armed with automatic weapons. Nobody interfere! Too dangerous.”
Alison’s surprised expression tore me inside. But her expression sobered as she too realized the risk. Alison subtly pressed her hand next to her ear, pretending to be scratching, and waited as she listened to the response on the other end. She then whispered back, “If Ziavir sees you he will kill you.”
“He knows I’m here. He isn’t a fool. Ziavir wants a show. We’ll wait to see what the show is. Stand by ready for further reports,” I whispered into Alison’s ear. We didn’t get a chance to hear the response on the other end.
Ziavir must have grown impatient of watching the guests panic, because he fired twice into the air and said, “That is enough! Everyone calm down and I promise most of you will leave here safe and sound.”
The crowd quieted down but remained far from calm. No, their precious lives of insulated security shattered like rocks smashing into glass windows. I shook my head clear of such thoughts. The more I thought such revengeful thoughts, the more I resembled Ziavir.
“You’ll pay for what you’ve done,” I heard Kraine say, finally growing some courage.
Ziavir looked up to the balcony. “I believe I already have been paid, Mayor…by you.”
The entire room inhaled.
“I…I d…d…don’t know what you’re talking about,” stammered Kraine.
“Oh, don’t try to deny it. You paid me fifteen million dollars to terrorize your city so that you can look like the hero stopping a vil
lain.”
“You’re making that up,” said Kraine.
“I know you kept the evidence of our transaction and agreement off any databases. Went old school and kept it on paper locked away in your personal safe deposit box. Safe…until I heard Shaman took the evidence from you. Isn’t that why you’ve been turning Chicago upside down to try to find him, because he holds evidence that could get even you hanged?”
Kraine’s face turned ghostly pale. Right then Kraine’s passion to attack the mob made sense. Bodies were stacked up in the city’s morgue, and all along I thought I was to blame. Sure, robbing the Mayor and framing the mob severed their ties, but causing a bloodbath was never part of the plan. For two days I’d been haunted with regret, but that tense conversation between Kraine and Ziavir brought me tremendous relief.
That file I took, the one I never got to see for myself, held evidence of high treason—evidence that could ruin Kraine and maybe even get him killed if not at least removed from office and incarcerated. His desire to get it back and his aggressive tactics explained his war on the mob. I merely threw fuel on the fire. Kraine had been the real spark all along.
But my actions forced Kraine to change his plans. That’s why he forcibly threw me into his political game as a safety net, just in case evidence turned up against him.
I looked into Kraine’s speechless face and saw the truth. I knew Kraine wasn’t to be trusted but hiring a terrorist in attempt to glorify himself was beyond deplorable. He brought the devil to town to suit his own selfish desires.
Is he making a power play to become Emperor?
“This wasn’t part of the plan,” whispered Kraine, but everyone heard it.
Ziavir laughed and said, “I answer to a higher power than your pay check. Your money was well appreciated, though. All of your money in fact. Thank you everyone for making me very rich! My organization and business greatly appreciates you.”
Higher power?
Someone pulled the strings, and it wasn’t Ziavir.
“Michael said he’s contacted NPFC but they won’t be here for a while, and Chamberlain is waiting close by for your signal to storm in,” whispered Alison.
I leaned over and whispered to her, “Nebula will make sure they won’t be here when the NPFC arrive.”
I turned back to watch Ziavir. He looked around at the crowd and said, “I assure everyone I take action in the best interest of Chicago. Yes, that does include stealing all your money. I’ve only come here tonight to…see some friends. So please tell me. Are Dr. Eugene Clarkson and Dr. Kate Symilions here? I wish to speak with them.”
Nobody moved or spoke. But I saw in their faces that they contemplated throwing the doctors to the wolves. Ziavir noticed it, too. Nobles trampled on others on a daily basis. It would be only seconds before they sold out one of their own.
“Michael says the two are the best nuclear physicists in the city. Both graduated top of their classes, and both are working on a project to eliminate the high radiation zones east of the city. If they’re successful in that task, they would open up new passages through the Northern Terrorities,” Alison whispered into my ear.
I didn’t respond. What did success mean for these scientists? Peace? Safety and security? War? Part of what kept the Empire from conquering the Northern Territories was the strength of the North and their ability to hold the pass between the two countries. If a new path opened…
But maybe Ziavir didn’t want war…but instead something that made a big boom. If that were the case, and Ziavir acquired a nuke at the docks, he either needed the scientists to activate it…or he need them dead so they couldn’t stop it.
I turned to face Alison as those thoughts flooded through my mind. A bomb? The potential for another war? Thousands of lives at risk! It clearly crossed her mind, too. She looked back at me with a serious expression, as though she realized the potential horrors at play.
Then my eyes connected with Ziavir’s.
Gulp.
“Here they are! They’re both here!” shouted a voice behind us. I turned to watch a guy pull an old man and woman by their arms. Everyone backed away. Dr. Clarkson and Dr. Symilions fought back. Dr. Symilions threw her knee into her perpetrator’s gut, and when he keeled over he lost his grip on both of his prisoners. Immediately other party goers rushed forward to grab both scientists. Clarkson and Symilions screamed and kicked wildly, but the crowd was far too strong for them to resist.
“Take them away,” ordered Ziavir.
I watched as one of Ziavir’s goons came up to both Kate and Eugene and stuck each with a syringe. They immediately went limp. Soldiers dragged them away into the elevator. Nobody moved to stop the kidnapping. It made me sick to my stomach. All night I condemned these men and women for their behavior, yet I did nothing myself to try to save them. Fear rooted me to the ground.
I’m no hero.
Ziavir strode deeper into the crowd toward the betrayer. Everyone gave him at least six feet of space. The man trembled in fear and shuffled back toward the crowd, but they pushed him back. Ziavir came to a stop in front of the man who refused to look Ziavir in the eye.
Not a complete idiot, I guess.
“I wish to thank you for your help,” said Ziavir.
The trembling betrayer smiled and said, “You are welcome, Sir.”
“The problem is though, you betrayed your own kind, and I don’t appreciate such disloyalty.”
Ziavir shot him. The man fell to his knees as he gurgled and wheezed. With shaking hands, he reached up and grabbed the bottom of Ziavir’s coat. Ziavir delivered a swift backhand to the man’s skull and the man collapsed onto his side as he took his last breath.
“Pathetic,” whispered Ziavir, again with that same sadness in his eyes.
He spun on a heel and walked away, but not before calling over his shoulder, “There’s no use hiding anymore, Griffon. Why don’t you come out and play? After all, you are Chicago’s hero. Shouldn’t you act like a hero and try to stop me?”
Faster than the blink of an eye the crowd jumped away from Alison and me. We stood alone. Exposed. Ziavir spun back around and smiled. “Ah! There you are, My Boy. Come here so that I can see you better.”
Alison and I exchanged a sobering look. “Don’t go,” she whispered. I wish it were that simple. I patted her arm wrapped around my own.
“It’ll be fine. I’ve got this,” I said with a wink and the world’s least convincing smile. I slipped my arm free and walked forward in a trance with eyes locked on Ziavir.
Unarmed. Alone. Weak and wounded. Every breath a struggle. Finally, surrounded by a small band of armed mercenaries led by one of the world’s deadliest killers, I was hopelessly outmatched. I exited the crowd easier than the Israelites crossed the Red Sea and stood alone in the open space before Ziavir. A strange peace came over me. Maybe it was just acceptance of my inevitable fate.
“Griffon Nightlock…a hero to the people! Oh, what…a…wonderful…lie. There are no such things as heroes—especially for those like us.”
“I’m nothing like you,” I whispered.
Ziavir laughed and said, “Continue to lie and deny what you know to be true if you like, Griffon. I know what you really are. Or should I say who you really are? Shall I tell—”
“—Is there a reason to your pointless chatter?” I interrupted.
“Reason? Why of course! It has come to my attention that you intend to expose my operation in Chicago and the organization for whom I work. My superior would hate that, but I believe it is about time we came out of the shadows and into a glorious new age. Consider tonight our great debut for the entire world to know the power of Nebula! And it begins with you. We’ve protected you for years, Griffon, watching always in the shadows. We have tried to persuade you to see reason, but the time has come to abandon such paths in order to travel down new ones.”
Why do he and the rest of Nebula keep insisting that they are protecting me?
He raised his gun and aimed it right a
t my chest. “We begin with your death.”
One finger twitch and it would all be over. I would be lying if a part of me didn’t feel the slightest relief over that. Years of pointless and vain fighting had brought me no good. It chased away the woman I loved. It led to me murdering two men in one night. It caused me to sign off on the death sentence of two innocent boys who would occupy my nightmares. My many sins were bound to corrupt me into a monster worse than Ziavir if I lived long enough.
But another part refused to give in. The burning furnace in my soul twisted and scorched all selfish reasoning out of me. It wasn’t my style to give in without one last relentless fight. I may be tired of all the death and failure, but I was even more tired of being pushed down. There may be something dark inside me, as Ziavir proclaimed, but that didn’t mean one darkness couldn’t swallow another.
“What sort of man shoots an unarmed opponent?”
Ziavir didn’t lower the gun but said, “A rather boring one. How would you prefer to die?”
I puffed out my chest and spoke confidently, “Let’s see if you can fight as good as the rumors say.”
“Trust me…I’m better.”
I believed him. Ex-special forces, he spent over twenty years as a trained assassin and mercenary for Nebula. Killing came easily for a man like that.
Ziavir smiled and lowered the gun. “As you wish.” He tossed the gun to one of his fellow mercenaries, took off his suit jacket and tossed it on the floor nearby.
He began rolling up his sleeves and said, “This ought to be fun…if you’re even half of the fighter as your father was.”
I swallowed and undid my bowtie.
“Are you ready?” said Ziavir, as he settled into a fighting stance. He spoke politely despite the fact that we both knew he intended to snap my neck with his bare hands. I leaned on my back foot and lifted up my arms to defend myself.