Peter came out of the airport, still looking for Stephen. He had been gone for a month, but his partner was not there to meet him. That was strange. Stephen always met him at the gate. Thinking that his friend had been delayed, which was not uncommon, he went to one of the many airline stalls and bought himself a newspaper.
The Headline screamed: Defalk family Enters Mob War.
Peter froze, staring at the headline; he now had a vague idea why his partner was not there. After all it was easy to get distracted by assassinations and drive by shootings that were so common in mobster wars.
Particularly if you were The Shadow.
Peter knew that there were 3 Mob families, which had divided NYC between them. Defalk, Biggs and Leyland.
Terrified now for the safety of his partner, he decided to catch an ordinary cab to the alleyway of The Sanctum, and hope that Stephen would be there. Having recently been told the secret of entry, he decided to wait there for him.
~~
It was 20 min later, and Peter was coming down to stairs. Sitting in a huge leather chair with a large glass, half full of scotch was his partner. Stephen looked up at Peter and nodded a greeting. The man looked like he hadn't slept in days, and there was something very uncharacteristic in his eyes. Something that disturbed Peter greatly.
Vulnerability.
"Hello Pete," he said weakly. "I forgot to meet you at the airport. Sorry."
Peter walked straight over and poured himself a drink. He then walked back to the centre of the room, seated himself across from his friend and said, "What happened?"
Stephen looked at his partner silently for a long moment and started to speak. As he spoke, he stared, either at his drink, or the paper, which Peter had brought with him. Stephen spoke, with great emotion and at times, with his eyes squeezed shut, as if trying to forget something. Steeling himself for the worst, Peter listened to the story.
"It all started when you left…
***
Three days after your plane took off, the Leyland family, started to muscle in on the Biggs territory. And as usual with mob wars, innocent people were slaughtered in the process. My underworld contacts were stretched too thinly, I heard about very few attacks in time. The Leyland's had been preparing this for months. They were very good at keeping it a secret, I did not hear about it until it had already started. They had quietly moved people into Biggs territory disguised as businessmen, and everyday shoppers, they had been hiring gunfighters in small groups here and there, they had retrofitted ordinary cars to be bullet-proof for drive bys.
For almost a week the reports kept coming in. Each time it was either a suspected attack, which quite often were just rumour, sometimes, they were reports of gained or lost territory belonging to each family, there were countless reports of brutal attacks which were swift and bloody. But the worst reports of all… were the casualty lists. There were dozens of them, coming in at all hours. Hundreds of deaths. Names, faces, coroner files, all started to blend into each other. More than a few agents too.
The Leyland's were gaining ground quickly, but the Biggs made them fight for every inch of space, more killing was the result. It quickly came to the point where I couldn't keep up. The attacks were constant, random and swift. So I knew that they only way to stop it, was at the source. But if I took down only one of the mobsters, then the other 2 would flood into his territory, and that his sub-bosses would massacre each other trying to become crime lords themselves. The same would happen if I took them all down at once.
But I couldn't do that anyway because once the fighting started, all the bosses went to ground and disappeared. The only other way I could think of, and I curse that moment in my memory, would be to make the conflict expand, so that each lord would be forced to pull back their forces, and put them on the defensive. The ferocity and sheer amount of the public attacks would decrease to a point where we could keep up with them, and the public would be considerably safer.
***
Peter was starting to see where this was going. Stephen had actually tried to EXPAND a mob war? He said nothing, it was clear that his partner had to tell someone the whole story, and Peter was the only one he could trust.
After taking a long sip of his drink, Stephen continued, making extravagant gestures with one hand, constantly pacing in frustration. "I did not know enough about the climate of the underworld at that moment, to even attempt such a bold move, so I had to go to someone who did…"
***
I went to Cliff Marsland. He was a brand new agent. Only been with us for a month and was constantly taking bold risks. All his moves were power plays; he took the initiative far too easily. I met him as The Shadow of course, because I needed his professional advice as an underworld snitch. I explained to him my idea and asked if it could be done.
"It could be done," he said. "What if, the Defalk family, entered into the conflict. A three way fight would have everyone pulling back because there would be multiple fronts to fight on."
"That's a good idea," I told him. "But how would we get them into the fight?"
"By convincing them that it is in there own best interests. What if, The Leyland's were planning to hit the Defalk territory too?"
"It could happen, The Leyland's would then effectively control the city. But we would need proof that they are planning a strike against the Defalk family."
"If there was proof anywhere, then it would be at this address."
He handed me a slip of paper with an address on it and told me that if was a front for the Leyland family. They used it as a conference hall for 'Family Business'.
So that night, I was at the address, it was just a huge office building, very few people in it, and no sign on the front. I don't know what the business was but it didn't matter.
I stalked through the hallways invisible to the guards. I went from one record room to the other, searching every safe, looking over every desk, jimmying every lock, searching for something tangible that I show to the Defalk. But there was nothing. So I went back to Cliff Marsland.
"There are no plans." I told him. He was silent for a moment, and began to smile.
"Who said that there actually had to be plans?"
"Are you implying that we fake some plan of attack?" I asked him.
"I'm not implying, I'm saying it outright. We just have to convince them, right?"
***
"Maybe I should have just ended it there!" snapped Stephen. "Maybe I should have just said 'Thanks for the suggestion, Cliff Ill take it under consideration' walked out the door and left. And I did. I told him I would think about it and came back here." He was gesturing broadly around the Sanctum, Peter was still silent. Stephen was almost shouting now, angry and something that was close to self-revulsion.
"But when I came back here," Stephen continued, "waiting for me was another of those damn casualty lists! So I made the choice…"
***
"How would we go about fabricating this evidence?" I asked Marsland.
"Well, it will be difficult, the Leyland always use a verifier code at the start of each message from one family member to another. The codes change every 2 days and nobody knows the key. The Leyland's burn the messages once used, so no one has anything to work with. But word on the street is that the Defalk family had an insider who cracked the code. So to make it authentic, we will have to use an accurate code."
"But… If we have nothing to go on, how can we crack it?"
"We cant," he told me. "But there is someone who can. His name is Ben Leyland. A member of the Leyland crime family, he is currently being held in New Jersey Maximum Security Penitentiary… awaiting his execution."
I wasn't sure what to say at that point. But in that moment of indecision, words started to appear in my head. A long list of names. Names of people who had already died. So I got to work trying to figure out how I could do it. It took me 2 days to realise that no amount of money, no agent in any position could do it. Cliff's only reaction to this, was to say: "Then you will have to spring him."
Again, I had the opportunity to end it, but the list of names, kept getting longer. So I made the choice.
The next night, I was at the prison. Cloaked in the darkness, searching the hallways for a particular cell. I found it in about an hour, and with every step I told myself to go home, but even as I was saying it, I was looking into the next cell. And then I found him. Ben Leyland. I made myself visible to him. He was surprised, but not afraid.
"Ben," I whispered to him. "Get up. I am getting you out of here."
Those words brought him to life. He leapt up. The lock on his door was a pick proof, so the only way to get him out was to shoot the lock off. The alarm was raised instantly; I cloaked myself so that only he was visible. Guards appeared immediately from every direction. Ben snatched at where my hand was, and managed to find a grip on my gun. Pulling it away from me, he aimed squarely at the guards and pulled the trigger with an insane grin.
I managed to pull his arm away at the last moment. The shot was wide, but it served to make the guards scatter for cover.
"Zero body count." I told him. He seemed willing to play it my way for the moment. He took cover in his cell, and I went after the guards, a few moments later, Ben rushed down the hallway toward the door, past 5 unconscious guards.
***
Stephen paused in his recount to pour himself another scotch.
"He wasn't interested in helping me out in any way. He just wanted to be gone. To disappear. So we did a deal. He gave me the code. I pretended that that night never happened."
Peter was staring at his partner in awe. It was like a description of a whole different person.
"It took me 2 days to come up with a believable message…"
***
"It's perfect," said Marsland finally.
"Good." I told him. "Now we have to get it to the Defalk family."
"I probably should have mentioned this earlier," he said to me, "but the Defalks only use a certain man as a courier."
I could feel myself being buried deeper.
"Who?" I asked.
"He doesn't use a name, he just calls himself, 'The Ambassador'. His opinion carries a lot of weight with the Defalks. If you can convince him that the Leyland's are going to move, he will convince the Defalks. I am told he is considered like a brother to them."
"So how do we contact him?"
"I already have. He will meet you, at the Cobalt Club tonight for dinner."
***
"I knew that if I took this meeting, there would be no turning back. But at that point, I was already in it up to my eyeballs. So I made the choice."
Stephen poured himself another drink and refilled Peter's glass. Peter had not said a word throughout the entire tirade. Now he was just waiting, and hoping for a happy ending.
"So that night, I entered the Cobalt Club…"
***
I marched straight over to the Ambassador; I ignored the bright atmosphere of the club. I was in a disguise of course, so that nobody would recognise me. As the dinner wore on, our talk gradually turned to the events of the last week.
"Is it true that the Leyland's hit men have gone through your territory to get to the Biggs family?" I asked him.
"Yes," he said. "What does it matter to us if they're hopping our back fence to give the Biggs a bloody nose?"
"But if the Biggs family falls, then you will have Leyland's on both sides of you. There is a work for that: Surrounded."
The man actually laughed at me. "That's only a problem if the Leyland's decide to attack us. And I really don't see any indication that they would do that."
That was my cue. I slid the envelope with the false message over to him. "What if I told you that I had evidence to the contrary?"
The Ambassador froze and fixed an icy glare at the envelope. "I would want to see this evidence and examine it for authenticity."
"Fine," I told him. "You can have it for tonight. Tell me what you think tomorrow night at this hotel room."
I gave him another small slip of paper with a hotel room at the Meteorite, which I had reserved under a false name. With that I left the table and the club and came back here to the Sanctum.
It was impossible to concentrate that night; I just stared blankly at the next casualty report. I was nervous, terrified and almost hoping, that it would not work. I just wanted it to be over. But then one name on the list caught my eye.
Ben Leyland.
It should have clicked then, I should have realised! But I didn't. I just thought it was coincidence, and that he was caught in the crossfire like countless others. I just kept waiting for the next night.
It came eventually of course, and I went to the Meteorite hotel. I don't remember the elevator, or the hallway. Just entering the room, with the Ambassador in it. When the door closed, his face twisted in fury, and he held up a scrunched up piece of paper.
"It's a FAKE!" he hissed.
***
"All I could think for the next hour was how I had blown it. Even as he screamed at me, left the room and drove away from the hotel." Stephen shouted angrily. "The Ambassador was sure to make a big deal of this with the Defalk family. If anything I had driven the Defalks closer to the Leyland's. If they united, then the city would be under mob rule."
Peter sat dumbfounded and appalled at this turn of events.
"So," continued Stephen. "I came back here…"
***
I sat here in the Sanctum and just stared at nothing, trying to figure out what to do next. I was numb for the next hour, until…
Until the next reports came in.
One of them was different from the others. It was not a casualty list. It was a report on an explosion. It was in the middle of a busy road. A car exploded. A picture of the killed driver was included. Before I even looked I knew who it was.
The Ambassador.
It clicked then. I realised to late that I had been tricked. I left the Sanctum, the picture in my hand and went straight for Cliff Marsland. I barely had the foresight to put on my costume first, I was so mad.
I knocked on his door and when he answered it, I punched him square on the nose, he reeled backward and I stormed in.
"You killed him didn't you!" I bellowed and threw the picture at him.
He looked at it for a moment and said, "Yes I did. And if you'll let me explain…"
I punched him again. "You killed Ben Leyland too. What possible explanation could you have?"
"I used a detonator commonly used by the Leyland family. I checked and made sure that the fake message survived the blast. I knew that it was likely that the message would not stand up to scrutiny, but when the Defalks discover that their best man was killed, and that he had information regarding a possible threat to them…"
"And they'll discover it's a fake!" I interrupted.
"But the blast has damaged parts of it. They will see the rest and decide its real! So. With a seemingly authentic warning of a threat, held by a trusted man who suddenly dies in an explosion, and evidence that the threateners caused his death, what conclusion would YOU draw?"
I stared at him numbly and stated the obvious. "That he had discovered plans of an attack against the Defalks from the Leyland's and that they killed him to keep it a secret."
"That's right." He said triumphantly. "The objective has been reached. The Defalks will enter into the conflict. The offensives will slow, and hopefully stop. And all it cost was: One condemned criminal, one mob courier, and your conscience. Now, where I come from that's a bargain."
I just stared at him, punched him once more, to make myself feel better, and left.
***
Peter understood now. Stephen fell silent for a long moment. Then turned back to Peter and said, "So. I am now an accessory to murder; I broke a convicted felon out of jail…" he fell silent again.
Stephen took the newspaper from Peter and looked at the headline.
"Burbank reported to me earlier… The Defalks have begun an offensive against the Leyland's. All sides have withdrawn their offensive teams, and begun fortifying their defences. The attacks on the public places have stopped. The Mobsters are even so concerned with each other that they have begun to slip up with covering their tracks. The police have tracked down and arrested 3 sub bosses in the last 2 days, from evidence found at the site of the last attacks."
Stephen stood and began to pace again.
"So, this is a GREAT VICTORY, for the good guys." He shouted at the room. "And all it cost was: One condemned criminal, one mob courier, and my conscience. But I just have to keep telling myself, that it was all for the greater good. I can't do anything about it now. So I had better learn to live with it." His voice cracked on those last words. He took a breath and tried again.
"Because I CAN live with it." He said, his voice still a little unsteady. He tried again.
"I can live with it." He said levelly.
"I can live with it." He said, casually now.
He finished his drink. Peter still said nothing. Stephen turned to Peter the vulnerability was gone now. He was himself again. "So, how was your vacation?"
Peter answered the questions mechanically. But he still saw something dark within his partner's eyes. He knew that his partner had shown something ruthless inside him. He would not look at him the same way again, and he prayed that he had not lost his partner to darkness.
THE END
