The Art of Madness

by A. J. Mayall

  “Yup.”

  Past the solar farms on the city limits, the van pulled into the driveway of a derelict storage business. Some units lay open like wounds, the doors rusted and contents rotted and warped from the heat of the sun. They drove until they came across the main offices. Two sedans already awaited them.

  “Here we are. Now, best behavior, McGee,” Dorian said as he turned off the motor, opening the driver’s side door and letting the heat of the outside greet the chill of the air-conditioned interior. Phoenix looked to the others as they piled out of the car, himself emerging last, flanked on all sides by the lycanthrope officers.

  “I still cannot believe I’m being asked to negotiate a truce between two criminal organizations by the fucking police.”

  Cortez responded with a curt, “To protect and to serve, McGee,” before pushing him forward through the open doors into the offices.

  Phoenix expected the power to be out. The out-of-the-way locale was either still on the grid and kept up for functions such as this, or rooftop solar panels allowed it to be self-sufficient.

  The entourage walked the hallways until they reached metal doors with a number pad. Dorian stepped forward to input the code, when Phoenix waved him off.

  “I’ve got this,” he said, needing to give a slight show of power to The Pack, to remind them of what they were dealing with, and how little they knew about him.

  “The code is nine numbers long; you aren’t going to crack it, and the doors are built to withstand even most high-level Omnus strength.”

  “You wanted me here; you get to see what you’ve brought here.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  Phoenix gathered in his focus and directed it on the lock. Patterns and order. Input and response. He closed his eyes and felt time slow to a halt. When he opened them, the lock to him appeared as an orb hovering in front of him, numbers spinning in orbit, seeking to be put in proper sequence, so many combinations. Digits and strings of code flowed through other. He waved his other hand and the numbers spun faster and faster, soon a blur that only he could see. The false combinations were stripped away and he reached further into the orb, the rest of the world frozen as he worked. He continued deeper toward the lock, the numbers spinning faster and then…

  Contact.

  A second after telling the red-haired detective to suit himself, Dorian saw a faint glow surround the man, who reached quickly for the lock. Upon touching it, the lock beeped with a green LED to signal a proper access code.

  “What the hell are you, McGee?” Dorian snarled, grabbing Phoenix by the collar and pressing him against the door.

  Phoenix fumbled for the latch, hissing out his answer: “I’m different.”

  MacKenzie stepped between the two of them, a sullen and worried expression on his face. “It’s best we not delay this anymore. McGee, you go in alone. We stay out here. Their rules, not ours.”

  Phoenix pulled his collar out of Dorian’s grasp, staring into him with a righteous, fiery anger. “I’ll see you all soon. Wish me luck.”

  The Pack nodded as he entered the meeting hall.

  The room was lit brightly in the center, leading toward darkened corners. The walls were lined with metallic shelves and filing cabinets. In the center of the room sat a circular table, and two men sat across from each other.

  O’Halloran was in his fifties, his red hair now a rusty gray; hard lines riddled his face, most from age and a handful of scars. He had the look of a man who had fought beasts to claim his empire; his rigid posture, those eyes flickering over every detail seeking information and potential weaknesses.

  He and Bellacino wore matching suits, but it was the only similarity between the two men. Phoenix took a seat between them, and they in turn, moved slightly to form an equal triangle. It was O’Halloran who broke the silence, his voice raspy yet smooth, like old velour.

  “Where is Mr. Quick? The Pack said they were bringing Mr. Quick. Mr. Quick is our mediator in these matters.” He glared at Donatello, then the door, concerned his life was in danger.

  “Today, I am Mr. Quick.” Phoenix responded, “Shall we get started? This is my first time, so expect this to take longer than usual, and expect things to operate differently.”

  Donatello leaned forward and winked. “I told you I’d be seeing you again, sooner than you’d expect.”

  “Mr. Bellacino, I’m not happy about this, but it seems I have little choice. Now then, I want answers from both of you.”

  O’Halloran snarled, “That’s not how we do things.”

  “It is now, unless you want me to decide in Donatello’s favor more heavily.”

  “This is extortion.”

  “This is arbitration, Mr. O’Halloran,” Phoenix said in raised voice, slamming a fist on the table, making it shake.

  “He broke the rules he stated, went to the cops,” Bellacino said, anger under his smooth tones. “Took someone and sent a letter informing me they’d be fine as long as I didn’t do anything, or involve the police. I couldn’t tell anyone. Just had to sit back and play nice.”

  O’Halloran glared at Bellacino, clenching his hands into a fist. “We did no such thing. You’ve brought the cops to my doorstop by killing my men!”

  “Your men were found in my territory stalking my girls. You think I’d let them off easy?”

  “You had them butchered and put on the roof of one of my businesses!”

  Phoenix held up his hands, and turned his head to O’Halloran.

  “You’re not telling me something. You’re sweating.”

  “Of course I’m sweating; have you been outside, you damn fool?”

  “I have,” Phoenix said, leaning in and running a thumb over the man’s forehead, dragging the moist pad over the table showing the streak. He then did the same on O’Halloran’s inner arm above the wrist, it being dry.

  “Nervous tension. Either you know more about Donatello’s situation, or there is something else you aren’t telling me. Now I’m no fan of Mr. Bellacino. Between you and me, I’d like to see the both of you rotting behind bars for a few decades. I have half a dozen officers in the next room who’ve made me fill in for your normal scorekeeper. I don’t give a shit about either of you. I just want this fuckery to end.”

  O’Halloran glared at Donatello and then to McGee. Taking in a deep breath, the anger reached a peak and the elder crime lord stood, slamming his palms on the table and pointed to Donatello.

  “He kidnapped my daughter, Caroline!”

  In the downtown corporate complex of Rouge Mal’s financial sector in the Canyon, Ms. Levicia walked the hallways of the upper floors of Ahkriman-Gemini’s Headquarters, her platinum blonde hair bouncing only a few millimeters with every click of her heels. She stared forward, turning the corners quickly as she headed back to her station. A few executives stepped quickly out of her way as she strode through the center of the hallway.

  She wore her Valkyrie armor today. Her black vest resembled a sleeveless trench coat with large pointed shoulders. Beneath that, an onyx top with red belt, and pressed black dress slacks with pleats so sharp, they could be considered deadly weapons. The heels completed the image in both appearance and sound as she clicked every step.

  One of the senior VPs called out to her as she passed his office, making her freeze and slowly turn to face him. The Ice Queen had been disturbed in her travels. Her face was impassive, as always, a hint of disdain in her voice.

  “I’m on my way to deliver papers to Mr. Gemini. Is this important?”

  A short, pudgy man with a face that betrayed his addiction to the free donuts supplied in the upper levels for the interns and executive assistants squinted.

  “Ms. Levicia, I’ve contacted your office several times trying to schedule a meeting with Mr. Gemini, and I’ve yet to hear back. Important matters in my department must be brought to his attention.”

  “No.” She clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth as punctuation.

  “No, you aren’t g
oing to schedule an appointment?” he said, face reddening.

  “No, the things in your department aren’t important; also no, you aren’t on the current agenda. Is that all?” Her Russian accent flickered in to strengthen the end of her words.

  His face flushed further, to a beet red, hands shaking.

  “Do you think I will be ignored?! I’ve been playing nice for the better part of two months. We’ve been held back by this blockade at your desk!”

  She arched the one brow not covered by her fringe. “What have you done if not work? Are you trying to tell me an entire department is wasting company time, money and resources and you want a meeting with Mr. Gemini?”

  The man pointed a finger in her face. “Oh no, I heard about you. Some bitch who gets off on causing hell for upper management. No, no, no. Not falling for it. I’ve worked damn hard for thirty years for Ahkriman before Gemini got brought in, and I’ll be damned if some glorified desk girl is gonna ruin my career. Do you know who I am?!”

  “No,” she muttered, only to follow it up with a glance at her phone to check the time, “but I suppose you are going to tell me in some self-satisfying tirade.”

  It did not take long before the executive had reached a boiling point. He thrust a stack of papers in Ms. Levicia’s face, snarling.

  “Next time I see Reginald, it will be your job for this, bitch. Now do your job and give him these.”

  If Ms. Levicia was upset or angry, it didn’t show. She looked at the man, and then to the door he exited from. It read “P. Duncan - Sen. VP - Panacea Technologies” on a black placard.

  “Mr. Duncan, I have to schedule appointments for not just in-house needs, but also for those outside AGI. You are also, if I am correct, more aligned with Mr. Ahkriman’s side of personnel. I understand Mr. Ahkriman has been in failing health, but he is the person you should be attempting a face-to-face with.”

  “He never sees anyone and you know that. I submitted project after project, and I have nothing to show for it. If he can sign off on something, we can begin testing; we have some new techniques for biometric scans…”

  “I’ll make sure he is made aware, in due time. Prepare a full report.” She paused, thinking a moment before smiling slightly. “I’ll have the proper paperwork sent to your office, I’ll need it back as soon as possible. Just sign and return.”

  He took a step back, jowls quivering as he gave her a dirty look.

  “Good. See that you do send them.”

  She turned on her heels, took in a deep hissing breath and continued on her way, heels clicking on the tile floor. She had more important matters at hand than some whiny VP; keeping everything in proper order for Gemini was the workload of a full staff, but she managed.

  It was a quick trip to the elevator, a scan of her card giving access to the top executive floors. The doors chimed and opened to the hallway leading to her station and Mr. Gemini’s personal offices.

  She took a seat at her desk, looking over the paperwork Duncan had given her, turning the corner of her lip at it in disgust before setting it in a large “to do later” pile. She turned back to her desk, pressing a symbol on the large touch screen and swiping up; a large section before her unlocked and formed a monitor, another layer between her and anyone who dared approach. She tapped on the desk, the keyboard lighting under her hands, hand gestures letting her navigate the employee registry, various projects, and their statuses. She retrieved a bottle of strawberry flavored water from her drawer, sipping from it as she examined and added in a few files for her boss.

  It wasn’t long before the elevator chimed once more and Reginald Gemini walked out, his slight, meek form shuffling toward his office doors, nodding to his executive assistant and bodyguard.

  “Ms. Levicia, have you had lunch?” he asked with a hopeful smile, stopping by her desk and setting his briefcase down.

  “I brought my own, Mr. Gemini,” she replied without looking away from the screen, intently focused on her work.

  “Ah. Yes. Very well, sometime else then.” He paused, adjusting his glasses over his hooked nose, mumbling a bit as he did so.

  She turned to face him, a polite smile on her lips, arms crossed over her lap. She tilted her head and broadened the smile. His oddness and milquetoast carriage were strangely charming.

  “I have some information for you, when you are ready.”

  Gemini nodded and turned, heading into his office. “Ms. Levicia, join me, lock the elevator please.”

  She set her fliptop on the desk, letting it sync, and swiped all the needed files over to it; physical copies were placed in a translucent three ring binder. At the door, she stopped and smiled, grabbing the papers Duncan had given her, not caring about their wrinkled appearance. She put them at the top of her pile and hurriedly walked through the door.

  She appreciated that he kept the room so Spartan, uncluttered. While roomy enough for more furniture, a full-length meeting desk, or an entertainment center, Reginald preferred the emptiness of the large room. He had only a few pieces of art on the walls, and sculptures here and there. Even the desk he had, while larger and better than hers, was nothing extravagant.

  She handed him the binder and sat opposite him. He took it gladly and cleared a space for her to set down her fliptop. She did so and he swiped the folders in her shared directory to his own.

  “Thank you. Let’s go over the daily agenda. Have any action items in-house been brought to your attention?”

  Ms. Levicia pulled out the stack of papers from Duncan, laying the disheveled mass on his desk.

  “One of Mr. Ahkriman’s higher-ups felt it prudent to give me these in this condition. This man also called me a bitch.”

  Gemini looked at the paperwork, leaning over, squinting and wiping his glasses before looking up at Ms. Levicia.

  “I don’t fire Mr. Ahkriman’s personnel out of respect. Ought I suggest he be let go?”

  Ms. Levicia shook her head, pointing to a couple of projects listed in the papers. “No, sir, but these may require further consideration.”

  Gemini squinted once more and looked at the projects in question, eyes twinkling. “Yes, certainly interesting things Mr. Ahkriman is having done, these ideas on biometrics. Did Mr.…?”

  “Duncan, sir.”

  “Did Mr. Duncan want anything in particular?”

  “Just a meeting with you, about the status of these projects.”

  “That will be in order. Especially if these are all Mr. Ahkriman’s projects.” He read through the documents for a few moments, then muttered, “He called you a bitch?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Disgraceful.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Will you be able to find these documents in the system, or are there only these hard copies?”

  She scrunched her face, and opened her fliptop, swiping and tapping on the keyboard before turning the screen to face Gemini.

  “I have the scanned documents here.”

  “Good,” Gemini muttered, wheeling out a wastebasket from under his desk. It was cast iron and had a thin wire mesh grille atop. Ms. Levicia thought his quirks were oddly humorous, but she did love the iron pit, as he called it. With a sneer, he tossed the papers inside and drew out a long-reach lighter. Soon the papers Duncan wanted Gemini to see were ablaze, the grille dropping to prevent ash from spilling around the room.

  “You and that burn can,” she chuckled, getting a bashful smile from the corporate giant. “Why do you do that?”

  “It’s symbolic, Ms. Levicia. I can shred or delete any memo that I have no use for. But I can cast those who offend me into a lake of fire.”

  She shared a smile with him, moving onto the next item on the current agenda.

  “Our investments into the local police force have not gone as well as expected. There has been a substantial increase in crime over the past week or so; there may be some form of turf war between various crime families. Details are in the folder. Permission to voice an opinion?” />
  Gemini furrowed his brow and examined what the media had gathered. “You are always welcome to speak your mind, Ms. Levicia.”

  “While your effort to help build infrastructure in the city is commendable, shouldn’t we focus on roadways, or better communications?”

  “Those projects are more easily overseen; you have a problem, you get the right people, problem goes away. Crime is not so easy. If you want to make a place safer, you have to make sure you have the best methods in getting to the root of the problem. Maybe…” He turned, looking out the window. “Maybe we need someone who can give us a different perspective?”

  “Such as? You have a direct line to any office in the police at this point. They want to keep that offer for financial help on the table.”

  “No, I want someone on the outside. If these are crime families, they’ve taken root in the police as well. I don’t want my money going to help them. Private investigator.”

  “I would suggest Bennington; his work on security is superb. Why use someone outside the security teams for that sort of thing?”

  Gemini turned back around, his gaze had a cold sheen to it as he looked to his assistant.

  “I hear a ‘however’ coming…”

  “However, I expected you’d need something like this; I took the liberty of vetting some of the locals,” she stated succinctly and handed him a single folder. “I have the information on digital as well, should you need it. Also, Bennington isn’t currently available, I’m unsure why. You’d think one of the heads of security would be on call. Regardless, my recommendation is in the folder.”

  “Bennington is missing, Ms. Levicia.” He took the folder and opened it up. “Isn’t this…”

  She nodded. “Indeed, however, he is the best for the job. Also, what do you mean by missing?”

  “It means exactly what it sounds like,” Gemini paused and looked into the folder. “He’s not exactly going to work well if I send him looking into the police and the local underground with recent events.”

  “You wanted an outsider, sir.”

  “Is there any liability?”