Author's Note: This is the continuation of my fascination with Vicious. From the series, I couldn't help but be surprised at his honesty. He was very upfront about what he thought about the leadership of Red Dragon. It just seemed that those around him never quite took him seriously until it was too late. Anyway, that is how I came up with this chapter.
TransitionIf this were a movie, a video montage of our next few years would be appropriate here. We started in Red Dragon as runners and mules, delivering messages, envelopes, and packages across the city. We met important-looking men and got to know them and their habits. Older members of this syndicate taught me and Spike how to fight. Spike took immediately to the Jeet Kun Do and watched every Bruce Lee film in the archives at least 3 times, most of them more. We learned to shoot guns and how to handle most other weapons. I became partial to the katana, feeling it had a beauty and a style that I felt fit me. We were sent to school for the first time. It was a private, all boys' school. It was filled with the sons of Red Dragon members and other boys who were, like us, up and coming gangster elite. Spike and I became the nucleus that the other boys crowded around. We had the true talent and survival skills. We were the most respected in our age group, our generation of Red Dragon. They liked me because they liked Spike's easy-going manner, friendliness, and fearless sense of adventure. They respected Spike because they feared me a little, my cold and clean manner.
Girls had also started to notice us. We had grown from spindly boys to lanky teens full of confidence and bravado. I was always more successful in my exploits than Spike was. I don't know what the psychology of girls of that age, but the more moody and silent I was, the more time and energy girls spent trying to save me from myself. At least that is what they told themselves. I always felt that the girls who threw themselves at me secretly hated themselves and expected me to confirm their beliefs and to treat them like the shit they felt they were. Beyond the obvious physical pleasures to be found in the opposite sex, I could never bring myself to care enough to treat them any differently, with more or less respectful contempt, that I treated anything else.
Spike was different. Girls chased him for his indifferent attitude as well, but were always rewarded with charming friendliness. It was mostly broken girls, results of hard home lives and varying degrees of abuse, who clamored for the attention of Red Dragon members. These broken girls did not know how to handle Spike's kind attention. Most felt flattered, but slightly mocked by his interest. Girls left me in a kind of satisfied frustration, doomed to repeat their behavior for years. Girls walked away from Spike mostly in a state of confusion, not sure how to look back into his soulful eyes. Most of the time, Spike tried to make honest goes of his "relationships" whereas I bided my time until one girl got tired of me or another one came along.
By the time I was 16, I began to get antsy to work out from under the thumb of the senior ranking members of Red Dragon. I was given permission to set up a scheme of my own. I was given an assignment to find a way to acquire real estate from a rival syndicate. I knew what my ranking officers wanted and expected of me. They wanted me to be clever enough to pull off the deal with a low or non-existent body count (when it could have been done in half the time and with less risk to us to take out some key people) and with as few resources as possible to be provided to me.
I realized that I was expected to have reservations about danger and violence because most people do. I also knew it made others slightly uncomfortable to discover that I had never really developed a morality about violence. However, when it came to the Syndicate, I felt that I could bide my time and fake it for as long as I needed to in order to be considered reliable enough. I knew that violent behavior and rash decision-making often went hand-in-hand. But, I wasn't really ever intentionally violent. However, the quickest, easiest ways to get what I needed involved extreme force. I looked at violence through the lens of time- and resource-management, which was uncommon at my age. So I played along to their ridiculous notions of propriety and hid my preferences.
I recruited Spike and a few other classmates for that first job and it went off flawlessly, with no one dead or even slightly injured. Word quickly spread about my leadership abilities.
Red Dragon was impressed. I was deemed a kind of "management material" and given more jobs of my own. Most of the time, I included Spike, whenever he indicated that he wanted to come along, and they always went according to plan.
Well, almost always. The first time I killed a man, I did it to save Spike. Getting older in Red Dragon meant getting dirtier, more mired into its vice. They liked me clean and innocent when I first started planning jobs; they wanted me to worry about taking lives. Now my ranking hypocrites wanted me not to care and place loyalty to Red Dragon and the responsibility of finishing the job above what they thought were my qualms about using violence against others. In a way, Red Dragon set me up to my first kill. I was ordered to boost a storefront, told that there was no security from midnight to 1 A.M. I saw right through their lie and packed live firepower even though I had never been substantially armed for a job before.
A schoolmate, Bry, accompanied Spike and me to the store. We arrived early and I was surprised to see the evening shift guard leave without a replacement. We got to work and I remained vigilant. However, an enormous and heavy box distracted me enough that the guard who was mysteriously detained but not completely hindered from arriving at work got the jump on us. I caught his frightened, rabbit-like movements as he stepped out from behind his cover. He fired and missed me by a foot. He turned the gun on Spike, his aim improving. I had fired my own gun before I had even realized I was holding it and the guard was down. I calmly directed Spike and Bry to finish what we had started as quickly as possible so we could get out. I remembered Spike's eyes were alive and happy. He wasn't worried about his survival, but excited by the prospect of adventure, of being a part of a life less ordinary.
We were out of there by the time the guard's backup came and were back at headquarters by the time the police got involved. My superiors were impressed. I had successfully navigated another one of their hoops. I felt ill. I didn't care about the security guard. It was a kill or be killed situation. I had my job; he had his. Fortunately for me, I was better. I was nauseated by the games that the syndicate was playing. I hated that they would so willingly risk my life, make me prove myself to them, while feigning surprise and horror at what they had set up. Even then, I knew that they had no business dictating to me. I would survive long after their deaths because I wasn't afraid of life or who I was or what I needed to do.
Any burgeoning loyalty I had to Red Dragon wilted and died that night. Mao saw me as a puppet, thought he had me on strings. I knew that I would just have to bide my time, play their stupid games, until I could take over and run this group my way, the right way.
After we returned, I was immediately taken to speak to the Van, three mummified men, ridiculous in their thoughts and ideals, relics of a time gone by.
I was informed that I would go far in Red Dragon. I was going to be allowed to sit in on the meetings of the highest-ranking officers. I was being groomed for the leadership role everyone knew I would take. Spike was not invited. I was the idea man. Spike was only around and involved because I asked him. It was generally understood that, but for me, Spike would leave. He loved and respected his life there and in turn, was loved and respected by Red Dragon elite. He would have been picked for leadership over me if he had wanted it, but the desire and initiative wasn't there in Spike. He stayed for me.
As I moved up in the ranks, so did Spike, a reluctant and willing participant. He would take the insane risks no one else would. Life had tested him already, almost as hard as it had tested me, and he knew when, where, and how to push the limit. He lived for the rush and excitement of the risk.
When I was 17 we began flying lessons. Red Dragon gave us each mono racers, taught the basics, then taught the advanced maneuvers. For me, it was slightly more exciting than driving a car. But for Spike, it was like he was in his element, doing what he was born to do. He flew as often as he could and became the best flier there was in the Syndicate.
Spike would often fly off for long periods on his own. I joined him when I could, but was kept busy by gang business. He would just spend the time in quiet darkness. I suspected he was looking for something, wanting something he could name.
When I turned 20, I began to settle more comfortably into my life. Red Dragon continued their grooming, but began to accept the more ruthless behaviors that I had previously kept hidden. They could never find flaw in my results. What confused them was my refusal to say one thing, then act differently. It was my contention that internal morality, what you told yourself you believed, was nothing without external morality. Men are their actions. They are what they do, not what they intend. I could not lie to myself as they did. I made conscious decisions in my life. I would pay the prices for my mistakes and reap the rewards if I was correct. But age and experience did help me to predict hypocrisy and deceit in others. Where I found it useless in myself, I discovered ways to exploit it in others if I ever needed to.
When I was 21, I met Julia. A coup from a rival syndicate took out several members from our upper echelon including Annie's husband and the head officer under the Van. It was then, in that reorganization meeting, that Mao moved up to accept the leadership position from the late Jurgis Wren. That night, Jurgis was represented by his daughter, Julia. After the ritual turning over of power, leadership, respect, and whatever else, to Mao, she took her seat next to me. It was impossible not to notice how beautiful she was, surprisingly untouched by the stain of the criminal life of her father.
Each top tier member gave a brief eulogy for Jurgis. I rolled my eyes at each man who spoke. Every man there would have killed Jurgis themselves if they'd had the opportunity.
"Those hypocritical bastards can't wait for their new positions," Julia whispered at me, her words coated with bitter cynicism.
My own thought spoken aloud made me smirk. She was really pretty and I had never met a woman speak so honestly about a situation she would have rather not endured. I met her eyes and saw myself reflected. Like me, her eyes were open, understanding, unafraid, and disgusted by the behavior of those who thought themselves fit to make decisions in our lives.
"Hungry?" I asked.
A wicked smile played across her face. "Let's blow this place," she said and we left right in the middle of the meeting. I couldn't wait to know her.
Julia quickly became a new fixture in my life. She stayed with me because she knew I would never lie to her or deceive her. In turn, I stayed with her because she was genuine. If she got mad, she lashed out. If she was happy, she'd sing. If she wanted me, she would drag me to her apartment by my tie. She was exciting to be around. Julia was never reckless or impulsive, but she lived every experience thrown at her to the fullest. She stood in the fire of life in all of its glory and ugliness and relished every up and every down. I suspected that life with Jurgis had been tense, everything building up to the day that she lost him. I was glad to be along for the ride.
Spike and Julia met a couple of weeks after Julia and I started dating. I could see that Spike was struck by her, but that made him no different than the majority of men who saw Julia. On the other hand, she was less than impressed with Spike, but was nice to him for my sake. He was so different from any man she knew that she couldn't get him. He had no ambition, no ulterior motive to get to know her and treat her kindly. She initially confused his gentle respect with weakness.
Soon after meeting Julia, Spike was sent on a secret mission to Earth. I was otherwise engaged in errands for the Van. Word came to me that there had been an accident with Spike, he had been ambushed outside of a gate, crash-landed, and wasn't expected to survive. I dropped everything and rushed to him. I felt heavy, like my insides were turning to stone. I wondered if it was the feeling of sorrow or fear. I wondered if it could even be possible for Spike to die. To be dead when I wasn't there. I had made his life possible. It was because of me he was who he was. I didn't understand how he could die without me.
When I got to Earth, Spike was just out of surgery. He was surprisingly well after his ordeal. His lost eye had been quickly and easily replaced, even with the shitty resources of Earth. It was hard to tell that anything had changed.
I was there when the anesthetic wore off and he opened his eyes.
"What time is it?" Spike asked.
"You don't look as bad as I thought you would," I replied, feeling lighter.
"You're as ugly as ever," he huffed back at me. "My mono racer?"
"Totaled," I laughed. "Red Dragon can set you up with a new one, but you'll probably have to buy it here."
"Here? Earth? What could even be left on this planet?"
"Well, it's up-to-date enough that you survived a crash that no one thought anyone could live through. I thought I would be bringing a body back."
"Sorry, not this time," Spike sighed, his lids drooping.
I laughed and squeezed his hand. "I didn't like it when I thought I wouldn't be seeing you again," I admitted.
He lifted an eyebrow at me, "Julia is rubbing off on you."
"Maybe," I said and grew serious. "You're the only one who I care lives or dies in this world. That won't ever change."
Spike half-smiled at me before falling back to sleep.