Gangsters In Time [Part III] Veni, Vidi, Vici

by Stanimir Mirov

  Capone said nothing, but nervously reloaded and again showed through the window. This time, the rocket went straight through the window of the pursuing car and slammed into the back seat.

  “Aaa, wasn’t it supposed to explode?” All watched in perplexity the Italian.

  “It should have,” nodded Capone, still looking at the bazooka and touching it. “Fuck, this fucking Armenian sold me Chinese fakes again!”

  The rear car started to align with Maybach, when an explosion suddenly lit the street.

  “Hmm, it may have had something to do with the clockwork.”

  “Sure!”

  Our guysmanaged to escape from thepersecutors,and half an hour later arrived at their summer villa, where they were met by the other two outlaws.

  “What happened now? With all the haste, we couldn’t take anything, huh?”

  “Be angry with the gentleman with the bazooka that speaks on the phone too much.”

  “Well, at least I’ll take it with me! And if nobody is here, the good news is that nobody has detected the signal yet...”

  “Where are we going, honey?” Asked the blonde girlfriend.

  “On our second honeymoon sweety. A super exotic place known by very few people!”

  “Does it have beaches?”

  “Sure, it does.”

  “Super. Can we just go home, so I can take my swimsuit?”

  “We can’t my little carrot. Anyway, you can go without that thread you call a swimsuit.”

  Arnie and Macony wanted to laugh so much… Everybody went inside the machine.

  “Uauu,” Mariela looked like sprayed, “so this is the machine!”

  “It is, yes. Galfo, dial…”

  Capone stood at the computer for some time and clicked something on the virtual keyboard. Suddenly, the monotonous sound of the buttons stopped, and he slowly sat back, looking with a ridiculous face with guilt all over it…

  “I have a new theory...”

  “Mhm, and what happened with the old one?”

  “To be honest, everything is true, only with some new details...”

  “Interesting, and what would those be?”

  “It turned out that the signal I sent was weak. And it can only be detected on Earth. And my theory is as follows. A secret society called the Illuminati or so, the chosen ones, of which I’ve spoken, have been hunting the machine to this day. There is a technology that weeds out all talks on the telephone network. And perhaps they intercepted the words time machine, aliens and others, and most likely their computer dropped a signal in the system. Then they sent agents to follow us. The signal which our machine dropped, is a matter of time before it’s discovered, as well as who we are of course. Which is actually on one side better for us, but on the other, I’m not sure that the people who now rule the world will want to use the machine for something good…”

  “It makes sense. Who runs away from the golden goose? And if the stories about the global conspiracy are true, then the world as we know it will end. We need a new plan,” thought Leo.

  “We find the head of the Templars. Explain everything to him and wait for his response. If he doesn’t do the job, we kill him and try another option.”

  “And why you think that a person who lived 700 years ago will know how to destroy the time machine?” Mariela asked stupidly.

  “Galfo?” Leo pointed at him and waited for a response...

  “I’m pretty sure that books with instructions are passed down through the generations. Books or any metal discs, which recorded the whole story from the beginning, and information about their technologies, with which have come the Elohim. Now, some information about where we are going. On October 13, 1307, by order of the French King Philip IV and Pope Clement V, Jacques de Molay, the last Grand Master of the Knights Templar and thousands of Knights of the Order were arrested. Subjected to terrible torture, they confessed to charges of heresy, sodomy, and every other crime. Hundreds were burned at the stake, others were executed later. They were actually arrested for something else...”

  “You’re like a walking encyclopedia,” interrupted him The Sock, “but that can actually help us. Turn the counter and try to teleport us during night. With these clothes, it will be hard to pass for locals…”

  Chapter V

  The six illegals came out of the machine in the middle of a forest. It was already evening when they found a road, which, according to Capone, had to take them to the suburbs of Paris. After a few kilometers, they saw a fire aside of the road and decided to ask for directions. Two young men, a girl, father, and mother were having a dinner. They were obviously one big family. Leo approached the closest boy who looked at him as if Christ himself had appeared. Cassis greeted in English, “What’s up bro?”

  “Are you Englishmen?” Asked the father.

  “Yes, from London.”

  “You are dressed very strange. Apparently, the British have different clothes from us. But may I ask why the blond girl is almost naked? It is cold in the forest.”

  Capone looked at his wife, who looked like a whore from a brothel, but an elite one, then said, “The truth is, we were robbed kind Sir, and we are trying to get to Paris. If you have clothes and food, we’ll pay.”

  “You’re in luck, because I am a trader. But how will you pay if you were robbed?”

  “We had some gold stashed. My wife managed to hide it in the clothes you see,” here Capone pointed at the short skirt of his wife. “Maggie, give him the gold chain.”

  The blond girlfriend indignantly took off her gold chain and handed it viciously.

  “This should do, I suppose?”

  The trader smiled, rubbed his hands and turned towards his wife, “Good woman, bring the clothes wagon immediately. Daughter, don’t linger and pour a meal for the gentlemen and the ladies. I’m Louis, and these are Jeanne, Claude, Verna, and Dame.”

  Arnie stared blankly as if he had heard that name before.

  “May I ask for your names, sir?”

  Cassis scratched his head, “Of course. I’m Leo Earl of Suffolk, and this is my wife, Countess Mariella.”

  Arniestraightened his belly, “Lord Arnold of Cambridge, and this is my esteemed colleague, Professor Machiavelli.”

  Macony looked at Arnie for a moment and shook his head disapprovingly.

  “I am Princess Magdalena,” crouched ridiculously Capone’s woman, “and this is my husband, Galfonino.”

  “Agggrg,” the Italian cleared his throat. “The princess is still clearly in shock from the blow to the head...”

  Maggie turned towards him, “To the head?” She asked interestedly. “Nobody hit me there.”

  Capone looked at her angrily, “We’ll see... I am Lord Capone.”

  The merchant looked for quite some time at these strangers in the middle of the woods, dressed in clothes he had never seen before, “If I knew that we would have such esteemed company, I would have told my wife to cook something suitable.”

  “Don’t think of it too much... More importantly, what do you have for drink,” Arnold was the one who rubbed his hands this time.

  “For you sir, I have something special. A bottle of the best wine in Bordeaux.”

  “Only one bottle? It will be a lean night. Nothing, I’ll manage, bring it here so I can taste it.”

  The man brought the bottle and opened it after everybody sat around the fire, already dressed appropriately. Arnold jumped up and grabbed it before anyone could even can take a breath. He started drinking and drank more than half in a gulp.

  “I guess I was thirsty. This wine is not bad.”

  “Maybe three hours passed since you haven’t drunk,” said Macony.

  “Shhh, do not remind me.”

  The family ate in silence and stared with perplexityatthese personages of noble birth.

  The next day around noon, they were already in Paris. Horses, mud, smell, dirty people, beggars, shouting, carts and thousands of others things that made the new group rethink their live
s were everywhere. In places, Capone had to carry Maggie on his back because she was refusing not only to walk but also to live.

  Leo gathered all the gold they had and everybody headed to the finest hotel in the city center. Inside, it was full of various aristocrats "like them". Cassis already had enough of the pleasantries, and after waiting for two minutes at the reception, when the cashier finally came from somewhere, he started yelling at him, “Yo, chump! Yes, I’m talking to you! Get your fucking ass right here before I come across and personally start kicking it!”

  People around looked startled and oddly.

  “Aaa,” the slightly frightened man asked, “how can I help you, sir?”

  “I want the three most beautiful rooms in the hotel, bathroom, a personal chef and a few cauldrons of alcohol in one of them!”

  Arnie was pleased.

  “Of course, sir. Immediately.”

  A young boy took the keys but before he started walking, he was interrupted by the cashier, “Under what name should I write the rooms, sir?”

  “Earl Leo of Suffolk.”

  “And how will you pay?”

  “In gold...”

  “Aam...”

  Leo looked at him angrily and growled lightly.

  “Have a lovely stay, sir.”

  Capone slapped the boy on the neck, “Come on bro, start walking, that I begin to smell of carrion.”

  “Of course, sir. Please, follow me.”

  Everyone settled in their rooms. Leo hugged the young bellhop in a friendly way and spoke, “Bro, you know, we’re not from here. We were robbed, so I only have gold jewelry. I want you to take our measures and to bring me the best clothes that Paris offers. Furthermore, I want a parked carriage waiting for me outside. And write the addresses of all the important Templars you know.”

  “Right away, sir,” here the boy waited for something.

  “But, of course,” Leo pulled a gold bracelet and handed it to him. “Is that enough?”

  The boy thought and answered, “For now.”

  A few hours later, already showered, dressed, rested, fed and some almost drunk, the group gathered on the large terrace in one of the apartments overlooking the square.

  “So far so good,” spoke Mariela while enjoying a drink. “I must tell you I’m starting to get used to this nonsense. A moment ago, I went for a walk around the hotel, and at least ten people greeted me as Countess. Everything surfaced quickly.”

  “And what’s the plan now?” Macony asked.

  “Capone?”

  The Italian was still silently looking towards the plaza. At one time, he slightly narrowed his eyes and grabbed his mouth, “Isn’t this Maggie entering the tavern across the street?”

  “It’s her. How did she leave the hotel?”

  Capone smiled, “I asked the bellboy to put some herbs in her drink. Something like our sedatives.”

  “I wonder if they won’t pull some weed too?” Mused Arnold.

  “Just what we need, you to get stoned too...”

  “Em, where is the wrong in that?”

  Capone spoke again, “I wonder if the local pubs are like in the movies? Smelly alcoholics, whores, fighting...”

  “If that annoys you, we will go to pick up your wife first.”

  The Italian continued to speak calmly, “You know how I always explained to snotty youngsters that if someone touched my wife, I would cut his dick and cook it so tasty that even he would not refuse to eat it. I wonder if they will believe me here?”

  “It’s clear, let’s go to the tavern. Honey, you will come, but only to get Maggs back. Take her to her room and nowhere else.”

  “In general, I would protest, but in this case, I completely agree.

  Leo looked at her surprised, “Hah, you finally agree on something without quarrel.”

  “Get dressed and try to work faster, before I decide to fabricate a plan!”

  The men knew how crazy she was, so they just shook their heads in acclaim. The five crossed the square quickly and went into the tavern. Capone just dragged his neck for a moment and felt sick. Maggie was dancing now, wearing only a bra and thong on a table surrounded by a dozen alcoholics, seemingly dressed as homeless Frenchmen.

  “Aaa, it’s not gonna happen!” Capone yelled and ran towards the table. “Maggie, come down immediately and get dressed before I get angry so much that even God will not help those scum.”

  The blond girl, even though she was drugged, got slightly startled and began to dress.

  “Hey, who do you think you are, dull Englishman? To intrude so in the "Black Crow" and...”

  The man did not even manage to finish the sentence when Galfonino sent him with a powerful kick in the stomach directly to his chair. The man never came up to this day. The rest of the hobos filled with alcohol, however, did not like that what so ever and instantly began to draw knives, swords, machetes, and the cook hearing Englishmen pulled the biggest chopper in France and arrived from the kitchen running.

  Leo only broke his neck and turned to Mac, “Keep Mariela safe. Arnie, are you ready?””

  “You bet I am!” He grinned.

  Capone and Cassis threw themselves into the fray and began to violently beat people, when a loud, almost inhuman scream made everyone shut up and look at Arnold, who was looking worse than Death. Foamy, semi-drunken, Arnie spoke slowly, through his clenched teeth, “If this cow behind the bar, throws and breaks another bottle of alcohol, I will hang her over here on the beam, and then I’ll beat her with the corpse of her husband!”

  Laughter lit the tavern…

  “Ave, these are our type of people,” came from somewhere.

  Suddenly the men sat on their chairs again and began to drink. Arnold grabbed several bottles of alcohol from the bar and joined one of the tables. Leo came to Macony, “Stay with him just in case. And you take Maggie and send her to bed. Galfo and I will take care of things.”

  Chapter VI

  The two villains got into the carriage and drove to the house of the famous Templar, Count Sven. After twenty minutes, the vehicle stopped in front of his beautiful house in the suburbs of the city. Leo was about to knock when the door suddenly opened, and an unctuous Butler, with a viper smile, asked in French, “Can I help you at this late hour, gentlemen?”

  “Late hour?” Capone, who knew a little French, wondered and asked in English. “Do you go to bed with chickens in Paris?”

  “No, sir,” emphatically answered the servant. “But it’s not very polite to speak like that.”

  “Hey, hyumne,” raged Galfonino, but before he could finish, Leo pushed him apparently.

  “You have to excuse my friend, Lord Capone, but he drank a little more than usual.”

  The butler heard Lord, and straightened his posture, “Who are you looking for, Sir?”

  “Please tell Count Sven that Leo Earl of Suffolk wants to see him on urgent matters relating to the Order.”

  The fop was about to shut the door when a male voice came from inside, “Garson, is this how we treat our guests in France? What would our neighbors think of our manners? Excuse my stupid butler, gentlemen.”

  Leo nodded in understanding and the gangsters entered the house after being kindly invited. Settling in a small dining room with a long table that was instantly filled with food and wine, served by the servants of the Count.

  “So, gentlemen, I heard your names, but you must excuse my lack of information because I haven’t heard about you. And how can I help you?”

  “Of course, Count Sven. There are some things that even the Templars do not know,” Leo began the conversation while drinking a sip of wine. The Templar, who had a high position in the Order, slightly narrowed his eyes after the last words, but it was evident that he was a calculating personality and patiently listened. “I’m not sure, however, if your position in the order is high enough so that we are mutually beneficial. Maybe if we arrange a meeting with the Grand Master, there will be more sense, because I am sure that the thi
ngs I know, you probably have no idea about.”

  “Without telling me what it is about gentlemen, I am afraid that I can not do that. The Grand Master is a busy person.”

  Capone decided to intervene, “As much as I enjoy listening to your pleasantries, gentlemen, I will interrupt you because it may take you some time until you understand each other. In short, we have one hundred percent reliable information concerning the Templars in France. Soon, all of you will hang on the gallows and will burn in fires because of the King's greed. If you decide that such information is worth it, then you can take us immediately to this Vizier or whatever the fuck his title is, and talk business, because time is running out, and you do not have much...”

  The Count looked some time at both men silently, and Leo did not even notice the speech of his friend, but kept eating roasted chicken. With his mouth full, crunching sweet, he turned to Capone, “It has been a long time since I ate chicken that does not smell like antibiotics... Try it before I’ve destroyed it all…”

  “Gustavo,” Sven suddenly shouted, “prepare the coach. Gentlemen, please follow me.”

  They all entered the vehicle and drove off somewhere. The other carriage followed them by order of Leo, but at a distance without notice as a mild security measure and a possible way for escape.

  After an hour, the silent journey finally ended, far away from the city. Before them soared the high iron gates on the other side of which stood a few guards.

  “Who’s there?” Asked one of them.

  Sven only showed his head and the door opened. The carriage continued to follow the road, surrounded by a small forest. Soon the trees ended and a huge mansion with a hundred rooms was opened to them.

  “Wow, and we thought we lived in luxury like barons,” mused Galfonino at the sight.

  Giant statues decorated the porch of the mansion. Everywhere could be seen inlays, small sculptures, mosaics, various animal heads sticking out from the sills. But what made a great impression to the gangsters were the dozens of guards scattered on the courtyard. And who knows how many more were inside…

  “Hail, this Master has more security even than the Führer...”