Prisoners of Paradise

by Brandon Lars Erikson

  Charlie felt sweat forming on his forehead as the gangsters around him smiled and cheered.

  A fist slammed onto the table as a dark-skinned man with a scarred face said, “Awa, ya gotta understand that much of this trouble started with those bastards in the Kahala gang. Yo! Check it, cuz! Ya gotta let me and my posse go and start some shit with these boys. Ya gotta let me start pounding em’ into the ground until there is nothing left of em’!”

  Charlie felt himself involuntarily swallowing as he realized what Awa must have been thinking at the moment.

  “Ya mean, start a gang war, Chibu?” Awa said with rage in his eyes, “Ya think this is the answer to our problems, just go and shoot everyone, who dresses in a different color than we do, or lives in a different neighborhood, cause they came from a different tribe back when they lived on the reservation?”

  The gnarled gang-banger said, “That’s what I’m saying, my brother, we gots to get in there and mess these boys up for the last time, and once we have their turf…we will have power, and power brings respect.”

  Charlie felt his skin crawling as he realized that Awa was about to lure this racist gang member, who he didn’t like or trust, into a trap. Charlie looked away as Awa gave Chibu a look of confidence and said, “Then that’s what I want you to do, Chibu…go and prove yourself worthy of this family name.”

  Charlie took a couple of deep breaths to calm his nervous stomach, “You ain’t one of these people…remember that…you’re here to do a job…you’re here to influence the king of this little hill and make something happen so we can bust these bad guys once and for all. Things are shaping up for us, and it looks like you’re about to have another opportunity to make something big happen so we can finally close this case. Don’t get excited, stay calm and play the game…remember, at this moment you’re a gangster, not a cop…and whatever happens…don’t let em’ see you thinking twice about pullin’ the trigger…and it looks like we might have to sacrifice some pawns in order to get to the king.”

  CHAPTER 19

  Location: The Go-Go District…Downtown Polynea.

  Ailanian Standard Time: 2350 Hours.

  Chibu exhaled a large cloud of smoke after sucking down a big hit of Cutz from a short, glass pipe.

  “Shit ya, my brother…now that’s what I’m talking about,” he said with a big smile on his scarred face. He shook his head back and forth, causing his dreadlocks to bounce around as he adjusted to the new high. He began to giggle as he said, “so glad we done hooked up that guy Donny Sparks with some of Makula’s Cutz…and now that the bastard’s dead…we got ourselves an open market out here in this bitch.”

  “You said it, man…you said it,” his friend, who was behind the wheel of the hovercar said as he took the glass pipe from Chibu and finished off the Cutz crystal.

  Chibu’s glazed eyes became wide with surprise as he said, “Yo! Yo! Yo! My man! Check it!”

  “Yo…what up, homie?”

  Chibu reached under the passenger seat and pulled out a large handgun. He gave his friend in the driver’s seat a wicked smile as he said, “pull up there, by that corner, my brother…we gots ourselves some friends all up in this neighborhood.”

  “Ya got it, my brother,” the driver said as he sped up and drove closer to the curb.

  Chibu rolled down the window and gazed at three young, Kupano men, who were appearing to be minding their own business, waiting for the traffic light to change.

  Chibu raised his gun and shouted, “Yo! Cuz! Where the hell you from?”

  The sounds of gunfire erupted, but were soon silenced by the loud music coming from a nightclub across the street as the driver sped up.

  Chibu was elated as he looked in the rear view mirror, and saw the three young men, lying in a large puddle of blood.

  “Yeah, boy! Now that’s what we’re talking about!”

  Location: The Cedar Hills Institute of Technology.

  Ailanian Standard Time: 2350 Hours.

  Van Dien stepped out of the black hoverlimo and took in the enormity of what was before him. The limo had stopped a few meters shy of the large gates, which were built into dark, gray walls that were several meters high and very thick. Several hovercars had already arrived and were parked closer to the gate. Also present was a large utility vehicle that appeared to be capable of carrying an enormous cargo load, all while fully concealing it from prying eyes. With long strides, Van Dien walked up to Schultz, who stood there nervously in his white contamination suit. The little man’s face looked anxious inside the glass dome over his head.

  “Is it ready to transport yet?” Van Dien asked while lights flooded the inside of the complex, nearly turning the night into day with illumination. The large gates slowly opened as armed guards in black suits, full helmets and face masks began filing out.

  “Not just yet sir,” Schultz said with an unconfident voice. “We need to adjust the nitrous allanon flow system in the containment unit.”

  Van Dien looked at his chrono and said, “You do realize that we are now behind schedule, don’t you? Do you realize how important it is that we get this thing into the ocean? Do you have ANY idea of what could happen if this part of my plan is a failure because I was fooled into hiring you idiots?”

  “Sir, moving these things can be a complicated process.”

  “Is it too much to ask that it be an organized, complicated process?” Van Dien asked sounding disappointed and somewhat irritated. “Am I surrounded by complete and total buffoons? Do you realize that someone else disappointed me tonight, Schultz? Do you? I have worked for years to be able to stand here and watch this thing get moved to the ocean in a proper fashion. This operation must be kept on a tight schedule. Do you know how upset I am going to be if anyone screws this up? You know what happens to people who fail me…don’t you, Schultz?”

  Van Dien rolled his eyes as he heard the sound of a ringing com. The man in the contamination suit began to look even more worried and began breathing so hard that he started to fog up his glass helmet. The ringing sound continued and Van Dien rubbed his face with the palm of his hand in frustration.

  “It’s all right, Schultz,” he said in a near painful voice, “answer the damn com.”

  Schultz picked his com out from his utility belt with his gloved hand. He put it next to his head, causing the com to clink up against his helmet as he said, “Hello?”

  There was silence for a few seconds.

  “All right,” Schultz hung up and faced his boss. “They are ready, sir.”

  “Thank heavens. I was just about ready to lose it here, Schultz…the thing in that container is such a crucial part of my plan and I cannot emphasize enough how important it is to me right now.”

  “Believe me, sir…that is perfectly understood.”

  Van Dien began sounding sarcastic as he said, “And why the hell do you guys need all these damn lights for? What are you playing baseball in there or something? I mean…good gods! All you are doing is moving something from inside there, to this truck, here. It’s a distance of about twenty meters, why all the lights?”

  “Uh…well sir we…”

  “Never mind!” Van Dien said in disgust, “I’m just concerned about all the damn bugs we’re going to be attracting. Please keep in mind, Schultz, that not everyone here is wearing one of those…bubble headed suits.”

  Van Dien lit a cigarette, but did not feel any calmer as he gazed at his assistant in wonderment. “Tell me Schultz, is there something I should be aware of? Should I be wearing one of those suits as well?”

  “Absolutely, sir…the PHOBUS Five Thousand is the only suit that is proven to keep all known forms of bacteria and viruses from coming into contact and entering the human body…we are surrounded by germs sir, they are everywhere!”

  Van Dien looked at his assistant in a completely different manner as he said, “Schultz, is hyp
ochondria, by any chance, covered by your health insurance plan?”

  “HEY!” A voice screamed from the darkness behind them. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Van Dien grimaced as he heard another bumbling voice, “SIR! We have an intruder!”

  “Speaking of bugs,” Van Dien reached into his suit coat, pulled out a small hand gun, and fired a spark of light into the darkness. Less than a second later, something fell to the ground. The guards quickly sprang into action and ran to where the shouting had come from.

  “QUICK! The intruder is down!” The bumbling voice shouted again.

  A few minutes later, Van Dien casually walked up to where the uninvited person had fallen. Two of the guards were standing at attention. The ignorant man, who had sounded the alarm, was speaking in a stupefied tone, “I saw him over there by that hill!”

  Van Dien ignored him and watched a small group of guards, who appeared to be scanning the area for other intruders. Van Dien knelt down on the ground and began checking the fallen person’s wrist for a pulse. The man was wearing a white laboratory coat, which had an identification badge pinned to it that read;

  Dr. Wayne Mumsford.

  Microbiology:

  Access All Areas

  But the man was not who he appeared to be. Van Dien pressed his lips together and felt a bit of anger and pity for the man he had just shot. Van Dien looked at the skinny, unshaven man that lay on the ground before him, and thought, “Pete… you stupid bastard. You had to go and steal yourself a triple AAA clearance badge didn’t ya? Don’t you ever stop with this ridiculous crusade of yours? Don’t you realize that it’s your meddling that is making me have to do this to you?”

  “Sir, he’s still alive,” The guard said confidently.

  Van Dien felt himself losing his patience. “I know that you moron! My weapon was set to stun.”

  A minute later Schultz came jogging up, his glass helmet completely fogged up from his heavy breathing that resulted from him having to run about one hundred meters.

  “What’s going on?” He asked, sounding worried.

  “Nothing to concern yourself with,” Van Dien said as he turned around to watch a heavy-duty forklift, which was the size of a three story building, roll out of the west wing cargo exit. On its huge loader was a very large, rectangular container that had numerous hoses and tanks outfitted onto its structure.

  Van Dien scowled at Schultz and said with a growl, “You just make sure that thing gets to where it needs to go.” He looked at the guards as he pointed at the man lying on the ground, and impatiently said, “Put my good friend, Pete…into the back of my car.”

  The guards obediently grabbed the skinny, unconscious man off the ground, and ran off with him.

  Van Dien took a deep breath and smoothed out his suit coat with his hands. He turned around to watch the container being loaded onto the truck. Seeing this calmed his nerves a bit. However, his relaxing moment was interrupted by the ringing of his com. The scowl on his face returned as he answered it.

  “What?” He said in an angry voice.

  “Sir, I think we have a lock on the Jonez boys…we think we know what they are up to…”

  “I don’t care about the Jonez Boys…have you found where Marco Giraudoux is hiding?”

  “No sir, we have not.”

  “How about Rex Broadstein, has he packed his bags yet?”

  “We believe so sir…and we’ve been intercepting messages from some Ailanian CIA agents. Apparently there is something going on with the gangs…shootings and gang related violence, which are leading to a sharply increasing rate of homicide are being reported…and to top it all off, some people we know are involved.”

  “Keep me informed,” Van Dien said and dropped the com back into his pocket and thought, “I have to leave and spend some time thinking of all the things I must talk to Pete about when he felt like being more, cooperative.”

  Location: Audrey’s office at Hana Paloi

  Ailanian Standard Time: 1745 Hours.

  “Here are those files you requested,” Jack said glumly as he handed Audrey a stack of Ready-Files. “However, I don’t know how much good they’re gonna do ya.”

  Audrey looked back at Jack with grateful, anxiety filled eyes. She saw how he looked nervous and a bit angry as he said, “I don’t know what good they will do you…since we are running out of time and options.”

  She was polite as she said, “Jack…that Special Forces team isn’t here yet…we still have time to work with Moke’s plan…we can still bring these drug lords to justice without The Military’s help.”

  He took a deep, nervous breath and said, “I don’t like this course of action. Yes, we did bag Makula Pilikoa…but a high profile civilian, got killed in the process, and now the High Senate Justice Committee is breathing down our necks again. We screwed up, Audrey. What we did has caused a power vacuum in the underworld. Gang violence is on the rise, they’re shooting and killing each other in the streets and in nightclubs again…and the worst part of it all, my agents, who were in a prime position to help us pinpoint where the gangs are making their drugs, are no longer affective, because they’ve been assisting your agents…with a what appears to be a wild goose chase. I’m telling you, Audrey, things are heating up, and some people in some very high places are getting sick and tired of Captain Kalapana’s way of doing things.”

  She pleaded with him, “Jack…we just need a little more time…”

  He sighed and said, “And I can only promise you just that…a little more time. I’ll let you utilize the talents of my agents, whose files I just gave you. But remember…I have to assign them to missions that involve finding Cutz making facilities for that Special Forces team to destroy really soon.”

  She sighed with relief as she said, “thank you, Jack…I know I’m onto something…I can promise you a breakthrough in this case real soon.”

  He was serious as he said, “I know you believe that Captain Kalapana is doing the right thing…and I do want to support you. But I’ve got High Senators Karamotzain and Jinkua breathing down my neck, the votes in the High Senate have been cast, they want to see the gangs destroyed…they want bombs to go off. They want a final solution to this problem that we have yet to provide.”

  “Those High Senators are making one final push to get what they want before the elections take place and possibly stop their agenda. And what about you Jack, what do you want?” She said softly.

  He signed and thought about that for a moment. “I want justice, Audrey, just like you…but I’d also like to keep my job when it is all said and done.”

  She smiled as she started typing, “I promise you, that we will only do things my way just a little while longer.”

  “Good,” Jack said as he turned to leave, “because if we don’t find out something that could lead to a big drug bust real quick…how we do this investigation won’t be up to us much longer.”

  Location: The Go-Go District…Downtown Polynea…Ailana

  Ailanian Standard Time: 2000 Hours.

  Kenny had been walking around the city for hours with his head down. As he strolled the small slits of blue sky, which could be seen in between the massive buildings, turned orange to pink and then to black, but Kenny didn’t notice since he had been looking at his feet all day. As he walked the sidewalks and elevated byways, the massive buildings blocked out the stars making it seem as if being outdoors was a confining experience. The neon signs and bright lights of the Go-Go district made it impossible to see the moon.

  The feelings of confinement became worse the farther one got into the Go-Go District because most of it was at ground level and the immense number of people made it difficult to move about freely. As he walked in front of bars, dance clubs and strip joints, in what was considered to be one of the most immoral and dangerous parts of the city, Kenny felt the past pleasures that he
used to indulge in unable to give him comfort in this time of trial.

  He allowed his head to droop closer to his chest. He felt miserable and inadequate. The humid air seemed to become hotter as he noticed how the thick crowd around him, started to become thicker, with more and more people starting to look like very large, Kupano men. Kenny’s hands began shaking as his palms began to sweat.

  His feet left the ground as his mind exploded with panic.

  “Oh shit! Run! Damn it! Run!”

  His feet flailed beneath him as he realized that someone had grabbed him by the shoulders. Kenny kicked wildly when he suddenly realized that he couldn’t see anything as someone pushed him through a darkened doorway.

  “NO! What are you doing?!” Kenny shouted as he began falling down the flight of stairs. He felt his left shoulder impact something hard. He cried out as his hip scraped against the rough, brick wall. After a few moments of falling through the darkened void, Kenny felt the wind being knocked out of him as he landed onto a concrete floor.

  Kenny tried to gasp for air as he heard Awa’s harsh voice.

  “Kenny! I read what your friends in The Evil wrote.”

  “Ah shit…no…not now!”

  Awa walked up to where he was curled up on the floor and said, “They said something like, ‘Oh how the mighty have fallen. With the deaths of Loko Kalaheva and Makula Pilikoa, a television station owner and a common criminal have become a handy proxy for every greedy corporation and unaccountable government agency in our dysfunctional economy. It’s a business culture where the rich and politically well-connected become richer while the employees become slaves without rights. But on this world, it doesn’t matter if you’re a thug, or a corporate executive, everyone dies in the end. What the people of Ailana don’t realize, is that in that time before death, a person has the right to experience freedom, because no man has the right to use any person as a means to an end. However, this abuse of individual rights happens on Ailana every day, because our government, which claims to defend the virtues of Capitalism, does not tell its people that corporations do not have the right to infringe upon peoples’ rights just so that large amounts of money can end up in the hands of a few rich and politically well-connected individuals, who are no better than thugs like Makula Pilikoa.’”