Chapter: Seven

Location: Chicago, König Estate

The room was pristine in stark contrast to Fox's little hiding hole. Large computer screens flashed in the dim room while a strong hum buzzed in the air. Blue lights blinked from the back wall where panels of circuiting were firmly mounted in place, the floor was a maze of carefully taped down cabling, pads of some sort muffled the noise of machinery, meanwhile a clear case of sturdy glass guarded all sorts of memory cards and flash drives. A score board of sorts flashed bits of coding in a series of messages that only a trained individual could interpret. In all, the room looked like something straight from a sci-fi show.

Though seemingly big, the environment radiated a claustrophobic atmosphere that left the air stuffy and the senses overwhelmed with information. Our group filed in to fill the space and stood towards the back of the room. Everyone was smart enough to neglect touching anything.

"What's the issue sir?" A well-dressed man stumbled into the room. His shoulders hunched slightly as if he'd only ever stared at a computer screen. Aside from his posture, his character was surprisingly different from what the common stereotype would indicate. He was athletic in a distance runner sort of way with a thick head of hair and a charming arch to his eyebrows.

"Get the systems running. I need you to show this young man how to use our devices." König pressed his lips into a thin line as he crossed his arms over his chest and nodded at Trey.

Moritz nodded in understanding and dove into an open chair. His hands were a flicker of motion across the keys. I had no concept of what was going on, but Lena looked intrigued.

At last, the computer screen flickered to life and Trey passed over his source of information. Moritz expertly slipped the device into a thin slot. Trey observed anxiously, "The files are protected by coding."

"Nothing I can't fix," Moritz promised. A small smile twisted the corners of his mouth. He was more than eager to accept the challenge and after a few silent minutes the file fluttered open to reveal a grainy video. "Let me adjust the quality."

Moritz cracked his knuckles and after a few clicks of the mouse the pixilation became clearer.

"What exactly are we going to find in this video?" König questioned.

"It's hard to explain," Trey shrugged, "just watch."

With a nod from his boss Moritz pressed play. The screen was taken up by the video.

"Dice my friend," Lucky smiled clasping hands with a small man no more than four feet six inches. Though stocky he was shredded with muscle.

"What are you doing here?" Dice hissed glancing about their environment. It appeared to be the back of a storage facility where trucks could unload their cargo. "Everyone thinks you're dead."

"More or less." Lucky agreed. "Listen, I got an offer for you."

"I don't want any of your offers," Dice took a step back from the taller man.

"What if I told you the pay was good, we get government protection, and we wipe out competitors?" Lucky's voice was similar to sizzling grease. Unfriendly to the ears and hard to decipher.

"Sounds too good to be true. Listen, if you're just here to joke with me get lost."

"I'm not kidding Dice. You heard the news?" Lucky persisted despite Dice's attempts to withdraw from the conversation.

"Yeah, them Lyndons are on their last leg. So, what? It's bound to happen naturally no need to kill them off. It looks fishy." Dice adjusted his leather coat with a flick of the shoulders.

"You don't believe me? Dwyer just got botched, not a word has been said. No body has a clue. You know who did it? Me and a Fed. I got him in and out and my bank account is bursting at the seams." Lucky's laugh was as bad as nails on a chalk board. "The Feds are tired of people losing interest in real politics because they can free load off us slum runners."

"I am not getting caught up in a federal government scheme. That's an easy ticket to the Grim Reaper's door. You can do as you please but I'm watching from the sidelines." Dice turned his back to the other crime lord and the video feed cut out.

"How did you even get that video?" Clarke frowned.

"I was running a job for The Hand. They wanted to add on to their Black Book, so I did some searching on local surveillance. Good thing I did because it was later deleted footage." Trey seemed proud of his accomplishment, but his sister smoldered with anger.

The Hand was an enemy to all the crime syndicates nationwide. No one knew how it started, but it became too developed to even think of ending it. The organization was the nastiest part of the dark web and underworld, jobs came from all sources and the pay was decent; meaning they had an endless supply of people willing to do their jobs. The Black Book became an intricate record of deals, mission runs, and a plethora of collected information.

The Black Book was set up in a reward-based system. If someone completes a task a portion of their Black Book record is erased. In return The Hand still receives black mail material for the amount it erased. It's a never-ending cycle of black mailing. It was a dangerous system and most of the time job takers didn't survive long enough to get their pay.

"What's the next piece of information you have?" König called everyone's attention back to the matter at hand.

Trey passed over one of his friend's cards which Moritz used to replace Trey's. The video was replaced, once the coding was broken, to reveal a list of transactions.

"Lucky's bank account increased the day of Dwyer's death and your hospital visit by nearly fifty percent." Moritz noted. "It's the third transaction made of that caliber, meaning he's run at least two other jobs."

"That explains it!" König fumed.

"What?" Clarke questioned.

"A week after Lucky fell off the grid an envoy of mine was pinned down on the outskirts of Eastern territory." König frowned in thought. "They haven't been bold enough to directly attack an envoy of mine in nearly five years. Then, out of the blue, they wipe it out. Completely. There was no evidence of the attack, as if the forensics team had somehow lost all evidence of a crime."

"So, you're saying the government is hiring other Bosses with scores to settle to wipe us out?" I asked.

"That's precisely what I'm saying."

"What I don't understand is why Lucky has a problem with the Lyndons," Trey shook his head in confusion.

"My father ousted him after a deal went sour. Lucky, nearly brought a successful mutiny on my father's head blaming him for the others' lack of pay. My father found out Lucky was really keeping the pay for himself." Clarke explained. "My father knew that after Lucky left he started a group of his own, even helped him a few times."

"What it sounds like to me is that Lucky wasn't too happy about the past, and now he's taking his revenge." Lena mumbled, but from the look on her face it was clear she was piecing something together. "What else do you have besides the video and transactions?"

"I found maps," A girl offered up her piece of the puzzle. With Moritz's help the account history was cleared and an image of a speckled map appeared.

"These dots, what do they mean?" König gestured to clusters of little red markers crowding Chicago's digital layout.

"Well, from the looks of it the markers are coded by date." Moritz shifted in his seat leaning curiously towards the screen. "The red ones are old ones, not too important, blue is recent, and green is future operations."

"There." My focus had narrowed on the location of the Lyndon estate. A red marker was settled on it. "What year do the red markers date back to?"

"From as early as I can tell... about thirty years ago." Moritz determined. "Just based on marked crimes from the news and papers."

"Then that," I pointed back to the marker on the Lyndon Estate, "means one thing and one thing only. The Feds, and maybe even Lucky, are the people behind your uncle, mother, and brother's deaths. Which explains why, despite your father's funds, the government and forensics programs couldn't find evidence."

"Brooklyn." König's voice was breathy with realization. "My uncle and his family were slaughtered and – 'mysteriously' -the case was never closed. Brooklyn survived because she was with me for her birthday."

"What was the importance of your uncle?" I asked.

"My uncle was a bank manager, he was very important to my parent's business. Consequently, he was the one directly responsible for ending my parents' payments to Kramer, the former German Boss."

"You realize what you're insinuating right?" Lena glanced at each of us with concern. "The federal government has been involved in business deals with crime lords for years now. This isn't something that's happened over night and chances are they've been involved in a lot of peculiar cases."

"Cases like the Gomez murders," Trey nodded. "A famous couple of actors, with no criminal record and suddenly they get axed? No enemies, nothing to indicate a feud or cause of foul play. The only thing that sparked controversy was an interview."

"An interview-if I recall correctly- that emphasized their political opinions. The two were very vocal about their speculation on government spending." Moritz felt the need to pull up old footage of the interview. "Of course, everyone knew Mr. Gomez's grandfather was very involved in behind the scenes government work. Chances are; our buddies at the top of the food chain were worried the Gomez family knew too much."

"Then this is worse than I suspected," König grumbled, running a hand down his face. "Young Duran, consider your intrusion invalid. Clarke, if you'd kindly do so, I want to discuss this situation further. In private."

"What about us?" One of Trey's friends questioned.

"I will have a valet escort all of you home where you will stay." König gave each of the kids a glare, "As for your information it will stay here under proper protection."

"With all do respect how can we trust you?" Trey frowned.

"You can trust him," Clarke spoke up ending his long silence, "he helped my father on numerous occasions. He's a man of his word."

With Clarke's approval Trey coaxed his friends into passing over their pieces of evidence . Moritz guided the group of teenagers downstairs, well, everyone aside from Trey, as König secured the data.

"Ladies, feel free to find a member of my cohort to escort you, I'll try not to keep Clarke long." König tucked the key to the secured data case in his pocket.

"I can handle myself, thank you." Trey gave me a nervous look as Lena steered him out of the room with a firm grip on his shoulder.

"He may have survived you König, but it'll be a miracle if he survives his sister." My remark earned a small smile from both men.

"You go ahead Niklas, I'll be with you shortly," Clarke sighed scratching at the back of his neck. Though König said nothing he seemed to understand that Clarke wanted a moment alone with me. He gave a polite nod and left the room behind. "There's a pattern here, don't you see?"

"With what?" I asked.

"The way the government is getting rid of people like us." Clarke ran a hand through his hair. "First König survives but his parents are killed. The government probably had a hand in the matter. Then my family, but we're the outlier. You should have been the only one to survive but no one accounted for Maria and me. Brooklyn was the only one to survive as well, and in the Gomez family only their niece."

"But what about the adults?"

"They're sort of like guardians. Temporary ones, you see?" As Clarke paced I began to make sense of the pattern as well.

"Kramer took in König not because he wanted to but because he had to. Your father going into town with me would have made him my guardian, and König is now Brooklyn's guardian of sorts, and the Gomez' niece was taken in by Mr. Gomez' father." Clarke nodded in agreement before pausing to continue his own thought process.

"It makes sense; children of families killed by underworld criminals would be expected to grow up and avenge their family's deaths. So far peculiar circumstances have kept such results from happening. For instance, König usurping Kramer, Maria and I surviving, Brooklyn finding refuge here, etc." Clarke's eyes glinted in the dim light. "If it had gone as planned the government would have had an heir to a bank, real estate agency, social influence in the film industry, and political sway from my father."

"The government would tear down crime syndicates from the inside out and manage to convert those same organizations to hunt others like them while functioning on federal puppet strings." The conclusion sent a chill down my spine. What seemed to originally be a string of coincidences leading to a small plan had now become something as dangerous as a black widow's web.

"It explains why new efforts are targeting my family name and König's. They've messed up and they're trying to fix it now."

"Except, rather than wait for crime lords to develop into assets they're now just hiring them off." It explained why Lucky was so involved and why he seemed so eager to recruit Dice. "The government is trying to clean up their mess."

"If they kill us and get rid of the others who've failed to follow their plan they can start from scratch. As soon as Lucky and whoever else is being paid off does the dirty work they'll be eliminated too." Clarke rested his hands on his hips letting out an agitated sigh. "Everyone is in danger here."

"Anyone connected to you, König, or Brooklyn is at risk."

"Which is exactly why I want you to call Charles. I'm not sending you back alone." Clarke's exasperation turned into worry.

"I'll be fine." I promised.

"You can take care of yourself, I know that, but I'm not going to risk losing you too." His hands settled gently on my shoulders.

"Alright, but I have to tell the others. At least Lena, she's associated with Brooklyn and she's my frien-"

Clarke interrupted me with a soft kiss followed by a small laugh, "I know. Now, get going."

"Right." For a moment I'd forgotten what I'd been saying. Though it was bothersome at times, Clarke's ability to make me flustered was somewhat of a gift. It kept me from getting too caught up in my own head, he was an anchor point I could always count on.

----

Brooklyn stood outside with Gambit whose nose was shoved in the exhaust pipe of Lena's motorcycle. The amount of Spanish being yelled was immeasurable and it was all directed at an ashamed looking Trey.

"I think you've scared the life out of him," I laughed.

"Not nearly enough," Lena argued but remained silent for a moment. "Thanks for helping Arty, but I'm taking this idiot home where he will remain for the rest of his life."

Lena's gratitude didn't sound too sincere, but I couldn't blame her for her irritation. I knew she meant it, and under different circumstances her tone would have been much kinder.

"Don't mention it."

"After I lock him up like Rapunzel I'm going to the Hole. There's a discussion waiting to happen from the looks of it." The Hole was Lena's little nick name for La Ochoa.

"I'll get you up to speed I promise but someone else needs to be present for the conversation and it needs to be private." Lena pursed her lips and glanced unhappily at Brooklyn. If it hadn't been for the seriousness in my voice I doubt she'd have complied.

"Okay. Secret meeting it is then." With that Lena slipped onto the motorcycle and Trey took the back. The engine sprang to life and Gambit gave a yelp retreating from the exhaust pipe. His nose was stained with soot much to Brooklyn's amusement.

A moment of silence settled on the estate before Brooklyn hesitantly interjected, "She's unhappy about my family heritage, isn't she?"

"Yes," I nodded.

"Can you blame me? With the history of blood that comes with our name it didn't seem wise to tell her." A pang of empathy resonated in my chest. Brooklyn, in a way, was no different than I was.

"No, I don't blame you. What you don't know, however, is Lena's history. She has reasons not to trust easily." Brooklyn nodded as a thoughtful look caused the corners of her mouth to slant downwards. "To an extent we all do, but I assure you that's about to change."

"Something tells me whatever you've figured out is going to make our two families dependent on one another." Brooklyn's thoughtful frown turned into a soft smile as Gambit rested by her feet. His eyes were big and bright in the dark, an endearing fluff ball who clearly knew his own charisma.

"If both of our families want to survive?" I asked, to which Brooklyn nodded, "Then yes. We'll be seeing a lot more of one another."