The Black Hand Gang

by David Edwards

  MM watched her twin brother training with the ninja’s far below her. Poor Biceps, his brains had been mashed at their joint birth. The incompetent back-street surgeon in Marseille had failed to realise that her brother was lacking oxygen because the umbilical cord had been wrapped around his neck. When their mother had died nine years later, she had made MM promise to look after him for the rest of his life. MM, a pseudonym of power but chosen by her as a private joke. Her real name was truly Musseine, the blending of a French mother and an Iraqi sailor but her pretty forename was Melanie. She had been a lovely, sensitive child until the age of nine and then the bitterness swept into her as she protected herself and her brother Bosquet from the mafia controlling the French port. That was when she had started to call him Biceps as his strength saved their lives many times. Their father had long since disappeared and was never heard of again.

  Three ninja stood line astern as a fourth approached at a fast run. He leaped into the air and placed his left foot on a comrade’s right shoulder. The comrade grasped the ankle long enough to make the leaper twist in the air to leave him head to head, upside down above the second ninja in the line. This man was holding a dagger horizontally above his head, which the leaping ninja managed to grasp in his mouth. As the leaping man continued his somersault, he managed to transfer the knife to his right hand and therefore, as he hit a third man in the chest, he thrust the knife forward in a mortal blow to the heart, before landing on top of the stricken man. The leaping ninja stood with the knife outstretched ready to repulse any attack.

  ‘Bravo, bravo my little friends.’ MM applauded silently high above them as all four men stood facing each other and bowed low after their mock training exercise. A Japanese tradition, a courtesy to the other warrior, even if only in the training arena. On occasion, they could afford to kill each other whilst training, because The Yakuza or Japanese Mafia always had spare recruits ready to fill the ensuing gap. This ensured only the best survived. Madam Musseine watched another group as they stood 50 metres from targets that resembled attacking troops. In a flash, the ninja’s threw their shuriken, lethal star shaped discs. Each disc hit a separate target and each deadly shuriken dug deep into the neck area severing the carotid artery. In reality, after a few spurts of blood, the enemy would have passed out from lack of oxygen. It was the lack of oxygen that killed most people. None to the brain, none in the blood to the heart, or a lack of air in the lungs. Oxygen depletion in any form was a killer and the ninjas practised the deadliest methods to stifle the oxygen supply in an enemy.

  A staccato of shots rang out to her right, it came from near the assault course. She looked across and saw the ninjas were practising with some of the newest batch of machine guns. As three men slid down a sloping wire rope on a pulley, they were shooting at targets beneath them to their left and right. She knew each target would have multiple shots to both the head and hearts when their trainers inspected the deadly work.

  Happy in her warzone, MM saw Techno approaching on foot. He kept his eyes averted as he stopped in front of the bulbous black mass.

  She gave a brief order. ‘Fetch Biceps and Twip Twop and make sure you pick me up here in my personal Landrover. You have five minutes maximum.’ He turned away and made for the rungs of a ladder hanging off the edge of the gallery. MM looked at the partly hidden Landrovers in the dark of the far corner of the training area. Her personal vehicle looked like any Landrover but it had three modifications. Firstly, the additional bullet and rocket proof armour. Secondly, a command and control computer that doubled up on the system in Techno’s vehicle. He could never use it, as she controlled the passwords but it was useful as backup. Thirdly, apart from the seat for the ex World Championship rally driver who accompanied her everywhere; it had one enormous seat that allowed her to remain in total comfort, no matter what angle the vehicle was tilted. Inside her seat were mini-gyroscopes that ensured it was level at all times by activating independent air suspension struts. Unlike the rest of the vehicles, the colour was also unique...no, not black, as that would attract attention from an enemy. It was in a special “total cover” paint recently invented by ICI in the UK. This paint was destined to be used by the British Army from 2018 but MM’s spies had stolen the secrets a month before. Inside the volcano under artificial lighting, the paint colour resembled that of vomit. It even had bits of orange carrot-like flecks in it but when the Landrover went outside, the dynamic paint changed and assumed the exact colour of its surroundings. No enemy would ever see her and therefore would not attempt to knock out the nerve centre of her personal army.

  She watched it move and assumed her three henchmen were on their way up. Three minutes later it pulled up, Techno was only just in time to avoid a punishment. Biceps and Twip Twop were sat outside the cab, on the back of the vehicle next to the satellite antenna and Techno was driving. The two idiots sat outside, were grinning like little school boys as they were excited to be going outside of the volcano. MM struggled into the Landrover, forcing her bulk through the narrow doorway before plumping herself down on the specialist seat. It bounced up and down for a few seconds until the suspension compensated her weight.

  She rasped at Techno next to her. ‘We need to discuss the plan with the two meat heads behind.’ Her finger was jabbed rearwards. ‘Do you have it with you?’

  Techno pointed to the yellow canvas bag on the floor between the seats. He always used his thumb to point rather than a finger. A product of technological life in the world, where thumbs were evolving faster than fingers because of portable computer devices.

  She smiled. ‘In that case, I think the fresh air in the crater of the volcano is as private a place as we can find. Drive!’ He moved away and headed around the gallery to the exit. Pressing a switch on the dashboard activated the blast door, which quickly slid upwards and within two minutes they were winding their way down to the bright green lake sat in the bottom of the crater. Techno pulled up away from the fumaroles that were belching smelly steam but next to MM’s favourite hot pool. Sometimes she would take lunch there in this special place, it appealed to her as it resembled Hell. Three months earlier she had been there with just Biceps and a cook. The cook would normally delight her by boiling five large lobsters in the heat of the pool at an average 98 degrees Celsius. There were always wire baskets with long handles at the side of the pool and virtually anything could be cooked within a few minutes. Her love for this alfresco cooking wasn’t because of the speed however, it was because of the flavour. She especially loved to eat eggs. The mix of silica and calcium with a touch of radioactive radium in the hot waters added a little spice, a little je ne sais quoi, especially as she ate the blackened shells of the eggs, making a crumble on top of the soft yellow and white interior. In the volcanic hellhole of the crater, the waters permeated all cooked foods and gave them a tang that she loved. She also believed, like the Japanese ninjas, that each egg that was cooked and eaten in this way would add extra time onto one’s life. Everyone else in her gang thought it was a disgusting method of cooking and eating but when with Madam Musseine, you did what you were told.

  Twip Twop was given the job of cooking and so he immediately fetched two dozen eggs from the rear of the Landrover and placed them in the baskets. These were then lowered into the boiling water for two minutes and 21 seconds exactly before being served to all her cronies. Any difference in the cooking time would result in severe punishment. The lobster cook had been twenty seconds over the allotted time as he had prepared the second course and had joined the second batch of eggs in the pool. Only Biceps remembered the cook’s screams after she had thrown the little Chinese into the steaming greenness, but he had enjoyed it.

  As a gigantic full moon loomed above the lip of the crater, the yellow light gleamed on the plotters making them look uglier, if that were possible. The moon shadows made every one of their features grotesque as they munched on their acrid tasting eggs. It was a double bout of sulphurous fumes, the whiff of egg and volcano but wit
hout any toast.

  ‘It’s time to finish your eggs.’ She brooked no dissent, each of her team were ordered to eat a minimum of 12 eggs a day. ‘Eggs contain the protein albumen and hundreds of amino acids. Last year our scientists proved that they stimulate the brain. So you can all think about me and creating my huge evil empire rather than dreaming your days away.’ She slapped her tree-trunk of a leg at the thought. She watched her team as they cracked the shells of the black eggs and munched on the contents to consume them as fast as possible. None of them looked her in the eyes, each was subservient, a slave to their mistress but for one reason it bothered her. She trusted no one and unfortunately it would only take one of them to betray her master plan at this crucial last stage. ‘Techno, the contents of the bag.’ He carefully unzipped the bright yellow bag and handed IPad4’s to each of the henchmen after inputting a secret lock code. They all sat on warm rocks as Biceps and Twip Twop turned their IPad every which way as no one could read the display. ‘Gentlemen, I give you the last stage of my master plan and your roles within it.’ The two idiots dumbly carried on turning the screens, the words were incomprehensible to all except MM and Techno.

  He spoke for her. ‘What you see is mirror writing as developed by Leonardo da Vinci. If you looked at the display when reflected in a mirror, then you could decipher it.’

  Biceps grunted. ‘But we don’t have a mirror!’

  MM nodded. ‘You are so perceptive Biceps, firstly you couldn’t understand the cipher and secondly you have no mirror. That is how you preserve our secrecy as you carry the IPads around with you.’

  Techno helped them. ‘Press the control alt and delete buttons all at the same time.’

  ‘But even I know that reboots any PC and if we do, it goes back to the start up screen.’ Said Twip Twop.

  ‘Precisely, so everyone thinks, but try it on these IPads.’ They all pressed the keys and gasped in amazement as the jumbled images on the screens reverted to words in English.

  ‘That’s amazing’ says Biceps ‘it’s real writing now.’

  Twip Twop was holding the screen above his head to avoid glare from the moon. ‘That is cleverer than holding it in front of a mirror but it’s a shame that Biceps still can’t read it!’

  The beast of man remonstrated loudly. ‘Are you calling me thick?’

  ‘No,’ said Twip Twop, ‘just illiterate.’ They all laughed except Biceps who glowered at Twip Twop. He didn’t know what to say because he hadn’t got a clue what illiterate meant.

  MM asked them to sit closer to her and they moved positions on the large boulders, ensuring they were always below her.

  ‘These are the latest I Photo images of Windsor Castle near London but with a twist.’ She input a code and a 3D miniature model arose from the IPad screen. ‘Another reason why I choose to employ Techno. He can take anyone’s ideas and make them better.’ She turned the image and using her fingers like on an IPhone, she opened and closed doors and spread areas apart to enlarge them. Over half an hour she explained how they would take over the castle on MD day plus one month.

  ‘What’s MD day?’ Asked Biceps. He was struggling to understand world domination and how it worked. All he understood was that he and the ninjas would land in the castle square using the stealth gyroscopes and surprise the garrison of crack marines. They would have one hour to make it safe for MM to take up position as world president. MM’s new palace would be Windsor Castle the headquarters from which she would dominate the world as by then, she would own half of it.

  ‘MD day my dear little Biceps, means Musseine Domination Day. The day the world’s Stock and Money markets fall under my control.’

  He shrugged. ‘Does that mean I get a pay rise?’

  ‘You fool’ she screamed, ‘you are the head of my security and want more money. More money indeed! When you should be proud to serve me for freeeeeee.’ The sense of power always went to MM’s head and therefore she hadn’t noticed Techno’s increasing frustration with his mistress. For nearly two years now, he had started to think he wanted out of her evil empire but he was too scared to run away.

  Biceps hopped from one foot to another in pure delight. ‘When we get the castle MM, can I have the arsenal of weapons belonging to all the soldiers based there?’

  Twip Twop joined in. ‘And can I have the crown jewels your ladyship?’

  MM looked at them and sighed loudly. ‘I said it will be my HQ. Do you get it? Mine, all mine, including the jewels and weapons.’ The henchmen bent their heads and protruded their bottom lips. But nobody questioned her judgement.

  Techno sat on his warm rock and thought positively, at least it would be near his mum and brother in East London but his dreams were rudely interrupted.

  Once MM’s anger had dispersed, she told them a final fact. The one piece of the jigsaw to be put in place on MD day. ‘You all know about level four and what it contains, my little pet...’

  ‘Yes Madam Musseine.’ They all chimed in obediently.

  ‘Well, she is there to protect the key. Techno has created a software key, which is the catalyst to take control of the markets. All he has to do is fetch the key and broadcast the elementary binary code to the world’s computers.’

  Twip Twop was gurgling with delight. Saliva dripped from the sides of his mouth.

  ‘And when Her task is done, we can all eat Calamari for a week.’ MM slammed him to the floor with a massive blow from her right fist.

  ‘You forget your table manners Twip Twop. She must be kept alive for later.’

  ‘What’s Clamm-are-rorry?’ Biceps was confused by the Spanish term.

  She sighed. ‘Never you mind Biceps, focus on shooting people and blowing up things.’

  He smiled, he preferred it that way. Thinking was too hard. It hurt his head thinking what to have for dinner but pointing a bazooka was child’s play. A child in his mind, he was truly to be pitied.

  ‘Techno must fetch the SD card with the key code, twenty minutes before noon on MD day. The timing is exact, when all the major world markets are available for my attack. Then it will roll around the world like an electronic tsunami.’ She cackled with maniacal laughter. ‘50 per cent of all transactions will be credited to my bank accounts as the markets start to plunge. A futures hedge fund created and manipulated by a few hundred children. How brilliant am I?’ No one spoke and she glared around. ‘I said, how brilliant am I?’

  ‘Brilliant,’ ‘yes so brilliant MM’, the congratulations poured out of Techno, Biceps and Twip Twop’s mouths as quickly as possible.

  ‘What happens if Techno is ill, you know, like he has got a cold or something?’ Biceps was a complete moron.

  ‘You stupid idiot, if only you weren’t my...’ she stopped herself. ‘Any SD card that contains the secret encryption codes to start the real “world domination” game must have been created.’

  Techno proudly advised the others. ‘But I designed it so I know the codes without the SD card.’

  MM looked mockingly across at her Techno. ‘You fool. You think I would only have one software geek in my team. Everything you have done has been checked and double-checked by another who lives in America. That way, no one can double cross me.’ Techno was shocked. He was used and abused but still she distrusted him. It made him feel worthless and it amplified the growing discontent he had felt over the last year.

  MM bathed in the moonlight, she was always more alert as it approached midnight, the witching hour. ‘So my little “henchies” we are so close now, yes so close.’ She stretched her arms towards the moon. ‘First the world and then the universe. If I own half the world’s resources I will explore the galaxy. The poor can go hungry, it’s natural selection at its best after all and the rich, those in my gang can possess the Moon and Mars.’ Techno stood directly in front of her with his head bowed. MM’s monstrous shape blotted out the moon. She resembled a giant bat with moonbeams radiating from around her, a black angel of death. He shuddered.

  Twip Two
p reminded her of the final part of the jigsaw that the others hadn’t been told about. ‘And do you remember my little kidnapping assignment?’

  ‘Of course I do fool. I was leaving it until we all went below to sleep our nervous little nightmares.’ She cackled again, it was a horrible sound at 12.30 am with a full moon and evil resident living in the volcano beneath them. ‘You must leave tomorrow my albino. The helicopter will take you north to the International airport at Nairobi and then direct to London.’

  Techno queried immediately. ‘London? Why London?’ It was a place dear to his heart, his old life.

  ‘Because my Techno, I think we need the company of your mother here in Tanzania.’

  He gulped. ‘But...why? Why my mother after all these years of never seeing her?’

  ‘Why, why, why – you are always questioning my motives. All you need to know is that it is part of my cunning plan. That is all you need to know.’ The conversation was ended, she would brook no further interference. As Techno walked away towards the Landrover, his first thoughts were for his brother. What might happen to him, if his mum were 1000s of kilometres away. He could be no more than 14 years old.