by Billy Miner
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Contents:
Introduction
Chapter 1: Sunglasses
Chapter 2: Taxes
Chapter 3: Smuggling
Chapter 4: Theft
Chapter 5: Scams
Chapter 6: Cops
Chapter 7: The Boss
Chapter 8: Gotcha!
Introduction
Criminals are all over the city. The crime syndicate called “Contra” has taken over most of the black market. There are those who dare not leave their homes at night, those who wander where some of the rich got their wealth, and those who simply decide to join them, like Juan.
Juan doesn’t seem familiar with the practices in the underground movement, but he is about to know all about it. After joining Contra, he learns the tricks of the trade and deceives various citizens to achieve his goal: To get deeper into the criminal organization. Is he just trying to become rich or does he have a secret agenda? Well, quickly read on and find out.
Chapter 1: Sunglasses
Weee-o-wee-o-wee-o-weee!
Sirens pass by Juan’s house. He hates the noises. They wake him up. He has been sleeping in for the past week or so. He slowly stretches his arms and legs, scratches his head, and looks around him with his eyes half closed.
“Aaarghh… too early,” he says as he drops on his back and falls asleep again.
Weee-o-wee-o-wee-o-weee!
“Annoying sirens,” he complains after he wakes up again, putting the pillow on his head to block the sounds.
Weee-o-wee-o-wee-o-weee!
“Fine! I’m up! There’s no point in trying to sleep anyway.”
He looks around him. It’s pitch black, since the curtains are closed. He sits up, stares in front of him for a few minutes, and stands up. He walks to the window and opens the curtains.
“Ah! Too bright!” he complains.
Juan then decides to open them just a little, so that the sunlight shines through the thin crack.
Juan doesn’t have much. He lives in the slums and has been trying to find a good job for a long time. It hasn’t worked out yet; unemployment is everywhere. Nobody seems to find a decent job in this city.
“Time to make another attempt,” he says as he sighs.
He walks to his closet and puts on his suit… his only suit, the one he uses for job interviews. He knows it will impress his potential employer if he looks high-class, even when he doesn’t live like a high-class citizen. It’s all about the appearance, about status. But despite his efforts to stand out and look competent, he hasn’t succeeded; he hasn’t been hired, and paying his rent has become a drag.
“Looking good,” he tells himself as he looks in the mirror before heading out the door.
He walks across the street, crosses another one, and turns left twice. There it is: The job agency. He approaches the door, opens it, and steps inside.
“Good morning, sir. What can I do for you?” the lady behind the desk asks.
“I’m still looking for a job,” Juan says.
“That’s great because we just got a new assignment from the police.”
“The police? What kind of assignment is it?”
“They wouldn’t say, but they asked me to let them know as soon as I would find anyone looking for a job. Shall I contact them and ask them and let them know you are here?”
“Sure. That sounds fine,” Juan says.
Several minutes later, Juan has a time and location for an appointment at the police station. He decides to walk there. He has all the time in the world anyway. Traffic was pretty bad. There were cars and trucks everywhere. A few times, he takes extra care when crossing the street. He witnesses an accident and a traffic violation. What a dirty city this has become! Well… not entirely… some people live in the rich parts, neighborhood with large villas, beautiful gardens, and swimming pools in the backyards. It would be great to live there, he thought.
He sees the police station. It’s right in front of him. After a few minutes walking and a long, red stop light, he enters the building. At the front desk, somebody guides him to a closed space on the other side of the police station. It’s a dark room with a big mirror in it. Juan figures it is one of those mirrors which is actually a window, so that people on the other side can see him even though he cannot see them.
“So, your name is Juan?” a man asks as he walks in.
“That’s correct, sir,” Juan says.
“And you are here for the new job?”
“I am.”
“Excellent. Have a seat. I shall explain your job description. My name is not important. This mission is classified, and I will ask you some questions before we get started, just to make sure you are qualified for the job.”
“Sounds fair,” Juan says.
The man questions him for twenty minutes and then decides to unfold the secret information about the job. He takes another twenty minutes to explain all the details and then ends his story.
“We specifically had the job agency make it appear as a normal job,” the man says. “Considering the nature of the assignment, it could only be done by a civilian, not a police officer. You understand that, don’t you?”
“Clear as glass, sir,” Juan answers.
“Then you are ready. I will see you later, Juan. Don’t forget that this information is of the utmost importance. It’s top secret. You cannot reveal it to anyone.”
With those words they say goodbye. Juan walks straight to an alley behind the biggest apartment buildings and businesses in the city, an alley known for its dark past and dirty trades. He knows what he has to do. It isn’t a common, everyday assignment. This is serious stuff. He feels honored that the police officer entrusted him with this.
Suddenly, he hears a voice.
“Hey, pssst…”
He turns around. In front of him is a guy in jeans and a black shirt, holding a bag and wearing sunglasses. He looks like he is up to no good, but for some reason, Juan doesn’t feel threatened by him at all.
“Wanna make some extra money? You look like a smart guy. My name is Peter. I know a way to score big with the big boys.”
Juan is curious.
“Go ahead and tell me. I’m listening.”
“So I work for an organization that… well… never mind the name. It’s a company with powerful leaders. They are willing to pay you well. Interested?”
“Of course,” Juan says.
“Okay, follow me.”
Juan follows the shady figure into another alley. They crisscross through the maze of obscure back alleys in the heart of the city. After several turns, the guy with the black shirt says, “Wait here.”
Juan obeys. He watches as Peter walks through a door and listens to him discussing something with one of his colleagues. He can’t figure out what they are saying, but he concludes it’s probably about him doing a job for them.
Sometime later, the guy in the black shirt comes out.
“You’re good,” he says. “Are you ready to hear what you need to do?”
“Yes,” Juan answers.
They enter the room and a big guy stands in front of him behind a desk. He is wearing a white shirt and a tie.
“Do you care about the law?” he asks.
“That depends,” Juan says.
“On what?”
“On whether or not there is something in it for me.”
“Good,” the big guy says. “My name is Gilbert. I am the brains in this operation. I suppose my man here told me you would get your hands dirty when working with us.”
“Yes he has, and I have no probl
em with that.”
“If you did, we’d have to show you the door. As our employer, you are sworn to secrecy. You will perform tasks on a commission basis. When you’re done with the task, you report to me. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right,” Gilbert says. “Then it’s time to tell you what you need to do, but first, take these sunglasses. They’re a gift from the boss.”
Chapter 2: Taxes
Gilbert gives Juan a pair of sunglasses. They look expensive. Juan accepts them gladly, realizing that even if he sold just this pair, he would probably be able to pay the rent for a month.
“How much did you say these were?” Juan asks.
“Oh, those are about 500 dollars,” Gilbert says. “Consider it a down payment. For what you’re about to do, we will make enough money to buy hundreds of pairs like that.”
“And… the boss? Where is he at? If you tell me, I can personally look him up and thank him for his generous gift.”
“Don’t ask about the boss!” Gilbert yells. “You have not proven yourself enough to ask such questions. He won’t see anyone he doesn’t trust.”
“No problem,” Juan says. “Can you show me what to do?”
“Okay, listen carefully,” Gilbert says. “I am only going to explain this once. See this picture?” he asks, pointing at a photograph on the wall. “That’s Mr. Finnegan. He is the tax collector of the city. Arrogant rich guy, if you ask me. Anyway, he thought it was fun to tax us on our businesses.”
“What kind of businesses?” Juan asks.
“Never mind that. He just did. He wrote us a letter, stating that we owe the government three million dollars for taxes. It’s insane, I know. Why would honest people like us try to avoid paying taxes? I don’t know where all these accusations come from, but we are going to do something about it, and you will play a vital part in that operation.”
“What do I need to do?” Juan asks.
Gilbert grabs a map from the drawer in the corner of the room.
“This is the tax office in the city building. That, over there, is the main office where this guy goes every morning. Mr. Finnegan is a scatterbrain. He has to stay in his routine or he will lose sight of what is happening. I am sure this is why they hired him: So stuck on rules and numbers that he is all in the details and doesn’t notice what’s going on around him. At 8:30 a.m., he gets his morning drink from the vending machine in the hallway. It’s probably some soup or hot chocolate; I don’t care. The cameras don’t lie. After he takes his drink, he heads to his office, but he has to pass through a series of cubicles with computers and paperwork. That’s where you come in. Tomorrow is the day he will take our tax papers to his office…”
After Gilbert’s explanation of Mr. Finnegan’s morning routine, the trio gets on the computer, prepares the necessary papers, and gets everything ready to break the tax collector’s routine in the morning.
Juan isn’t too happy with what he has to do to gain these people’s trust, but he knows that paying the bills is important too. He goes to bed and falls asleep fast.
The next morning, the adventure begins. Juan is a little nervous but confident that he can pull it off.
They meet in front of the tax office building at 8:00 a.m. Juan is fidgeting. He hasn’t done anything like this before.
“So you go to the hallway,” he tells Peter. “And you, Juan, will be ready when I spill my hot chocolate on Mr. Finnegan’s shirt. You will only have a few seconds. Don’t disappoint me.”
“I won’t,” Juan says.
They split up. Juan heads to the office and hides a little between the cubicles of the government workers. He has a stack of paperwork in his hands. Now it’s only a matter of time before he can switch the papers.
Peter is in the hallway. He pretends to eat a sandwich and look at some fake papers he brought as a distraction.
Peter waits… and waits…
There is Mr. Finnegan. As always, he heads straight for the vending machine, looking at his watch and putting his papers on the right side.
“That’s an interesting tie,” Peter says as he walks up to him and stands on his left side.
“What? Oh yes, I got it a few months ago. I love the patterns,” Mr. Finnegan says.
“Well, I think it stands out, but not as much as his tie.”
Peter points to a coworker on the right side. Mr. Finnegan looks and doesn’t noticed that when his head is turned, Peter puts a little hypnotic powder in his tea. Mr. Finnegan turns his head back and looks at Peter as if there is something suspicious about him. Peter smiles.
“Did you see him?” Peter asks.
“Uhm… no. Who were you pointing at?” Mr. Finnegan asks.
“Oh, he must have left the room right before you saw him. I would check him out sometime today. His tie is amazing too. You guys should do a contest. Anyway, I am pretty busy. I gotta go. See you later.”
“Odd duck,” Mr. Finnegan mumbles.
He takes his tea and paperwork and walks through the other offices to his own. Right at that moment, Gilbert walks into him.
BAF!
“Oh, excuse me,” Gilbert says as he accidentally (or actually on purpose) spills his hot drink on Mr. Finnegan. Startled by this sudden encounter, Mr. Finnegan drops his papers. That’s when Juan crawls over the floor and starts gathering the papers.
“Oh, in the future, could you please watch out where you’re going?” Mr. Finnegan asks with irritation in his voice. “Now I have to get a rag and clean my shirt.”
In the meantime, Juan skims through Mr. Finnegan’s paperwork and exchanges his own papers for his. He picks them up, muffles Mr. Finnegan’s original paper underneath his shirt and hands them over to Mr. Finnegan.
“Thank you, young man. At least some people here have manners.”
With those remarks, Mr. Finnegan retires to his office and sits down, whipping off the spilt hot chocolate.
“Did you get them?” Gilbert whispers.
“Yes, let’s get out of here,” Juan whispers back.
Together they go to a different room and put the papers on the desk. They don’t have much time. Mr. Finnegan will take a sip of his drink, fall asleep for about 15 minutes and perhaps notice that the papers are different. Gilbert and Juan look at the signature on the papers, copy and paste some information, alter a few details, and stack them up before leaving the room.
“There,” Gilbert whispers. “See? He’s asleep. Tread carefully. You must not wake him up.”
Juan casually walks past the other coworkers and then sneaks into Mr. Finnegan’s office. One foot after the other, he slowly approaches his desk and exchanges the original, altered papers for the ones he gave Mr. Finnegan to make it seem everything was normal. He looks back, checks one more time if he is still asleep, and then follows the other two criminals outside.
Chapter 3: Smuggling
“You did it!” Gilbert says enthusiastically. “Now you are ready for another job, but first your payment.”
He writes Juan a check with a sum of money Juan never dreamed of receiving. This was good business. It may not have been entirely proper or legal, but if he could earn this much for each task he performs, he would be a millionaire in no time. Juan smiles. He realizes the magnitude of this criminal organization, but there is more, and he is about to find out what that is.
The next day, Juan arrives at the same building he met Gilbert. He knocks, gets let it, and waits for his next assignment.
“As you may have heard…” Gilbert begins, “…we are part of the biggest underground movement in the city. It’s called Contra, and you have the honor to work for them. I have been a Contra member for years now and I can assure you that you will face a life full of luxury if you follow our orders and do not question them.”
“I’ve heard of it, and I am honored,” Juan says.
“Then let me give you your next assignment,” Gilbert continues. “The harbor isn’t a safe place anymore. We used to be able to do
what we wanted, but now, the authorities are all over it. They put guards there and are constantly watching the transportation services. You mentioned earlier that you’ve had some combat training, right?”
“That’s correct.”
“Well, if you could take out the guards on the evening of the 26th, then we can finally import our… uhm… merchandise.”
“Sure. No problem. How many guards are we talking about?”
“Usually about eight or nine. Like I said, it’s not going to be easy,” Gilbert says.
“I’ll figure out a way,” Juan says.
Before he knows it, the days on the calendar fly by and the 26th is at the door. Juan puts on a black outfit to blend into the darkness of the night. He leaves his expensive sunglasses at home.
He has a plan.
He figured out a way to take this handful of guards down.
He arrives at the docks. The windy sea and full moon are perfect distractions for his attacks. Sneaking behind the large containers, he analyzes any patterns of the guards’ behavior and movements. He uses binoculars to count their steps and come up with a strategy.
The containers are the solution.
Suddenly, he bangs on one of the containers.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
The guards turn around.
“What was that?” one of them asks.
“It sounded like it came from over there,” another one says. “Let’s go check it out.”
All the guards go the same way. They walk to the containers where Juan was banging to make noise. They are surprised when they see that one of the containers has been opened. Curious to see what’s inside, they walk into the container.
BAM!
Juan shuts the door and looks it.
“That was easy,” he says. “Not very effective guards if you ask me.”
He whistles to the other side of the docks.
“It’s okay! The coast is clear!” he yells.
“Hey! Let us out!” the guards are yelling from inside the container.