Chapter 28: File in the Cake
(Thursday, November 4th, 2123)
"Well, Ladies and Gentlemen, we've done it," Playa said proudly, taking a purple marker and drawing all over the former Brotherhood territories, effectively turning the southside of Stilwater purple. "The Brotherhood is gone, and their land is now ours."
Everyone in the room applauded. Inside the Saint's office were the usual four suspects of Playa, Johnny, Pierce and Shaundi. But in addition to that was a trio of newcomers that Playa and his Inner Circle had picked out personally.
Carlos, the younger sibling of a deceased former Saint who'd only recently woken up from a Brotherhood induced coma. Mink, the pink-haired and furred girl who'd helped Playa a few times, and more recently shown to have a knack for mechanical engineering work. And Jean-Paul, a recent recruit from after the Brotherhood purge, and easily the oldest person in the room at forty-seven years old.
"I feel like one of those crazy colonizers, conquering new land!" Shaundi cackled. "Feels damn good! Now I know why everyone was doing it way back when!"
Everyone gave Shaundi weird looks at that, and she scowled back. "Oh, come on! Don't tell me you all weren't thinking the exact same thing?"
Johnny and Pierce whistled innocently while avoiding her gaze, while Carlos, Mink, and Jean-Paul coughed awkwardly with shifty eyes.
"Anyways… now that the Saints control the south of the city, it's time to do two things. Expand, and prepare for the Sons," Playa continued, breaking the silence. "And to that end, we have three new lieutenants who will be taking charge of things here, and joining us in the Inner Circle."
At that, Johnny, Pierce, and Shaundi applauded the new bloods.
"First, we all know Carlos. He's in charge of recruitment and will be under Shaundi." The young Hispanic man got a round of applause and he blushed, but gave a determined nod.
"Next, we have Mink. She's proved herself in the fight against the Brotherhood, but just as importantly, she's shown she has a knack for building and repairing mechanical shit. She's been helping out in the garage and keeping out get-away vehicles and what-not running nice and smooth," Playa introduced, and the young woman blushed as well at the introduction. Just like Carlos she too had a determined glint in her eyes, not wanting to disappoint the boss.
"Mink, you're gonna run our Support Item group. Basically, you'll be in charge of the mechanics and all the repairs and shit for the various stuff the gang has. You'll be working under Johnny," Playa said, explaining her duties.
"And last but not least, we have Jean-Paul," Playa announced, turning to the last new member of the Inner Circle.
The man was a Cajun from Louisiana, and had the accent to go with it. However, he'd been brought in not because of his accent or his crayfish gumbo recipe (though the latter was a nice bonus) but because he was former military. A drill instructor, to be precise. He was the oldest man in the group at sixty years old, and had a plethora of valuable skills to contribute. How he came to be in Stilwater in the first place was a bit of a mystery, but he wasn't a serial killer, racist, or rapist, so Playa was willing to give him a chance.
After some thought on the matter, he had been assigned to work under Pierce, and not Johnny, because their personalities meshed well. Both Pierce and Jean-Paul showed a love of order and liked things to run smoothly. Johnny, as much as Playa loved the man, was an agent of chaos. He'd never have gotten along with a former military man.
"Jean-Paul will be in charge of training the new recruits, as well as running the Gun Range and keeping things from spiraling into chaos among the rank and file," Playa revealed. "He'll work directly with Pierce."
He then swept is gaze over the group. "Any questions?"
"We're moving in against the Sons' next, is that right?" Jean-Paul asked, and Playa nodded.
"That's correct. However, we gotta do it slow and steady. We plan on figuring out a way to get our hands on the recipe for Loa Dust, and cut the Sons off from their main source of revenue," Playa explained.
"Why can't we just go in and start messing things up in the Sons' territory?" Carlos asked. "Seize the initiative and all that?"
"The Sons might not have a lot of territory, but that just means they can afford to reinforce what they have with way more men than the Brotherhood could," Playa pointed out. "The Sons' numbers are about even with what the Brotherhood had at the start of the year, so keep that in mind."
"Hmm, makes sense," Jean-Paul muttered. "The General clearly knows what he's doing. Prioritizing the protection of only a few High Valued Targets lets him maximize his force's effectiveness, and last longer in a siege situation."
"Right. But those numbers will end up being a hindrance once we start hurting the gang's bottom line," Shaundi piped up. "Once we start pumping out Loa Dust of our own, he'll have less money to pay his goons."
"That also means he will retaliate against us as soon as he notices it happen, and if he's smart, before it gets out of hand," Jean-Paul added.
"Both good points. Which is why I don't want the Sons to know what we're up to until we've shored up the defenses. We've got a lot of former Brotherhood territory to patrol, and now that we're part of the city's Big Three again, the heroes won't be treating us with kiddy gloves like they previously were," Playa warned.
"Now, onto the topic of the Loa Dust." He raised four fingers. "Get the stuff. Analyze it. Synthesize it. Sell it. Those are what we need to focus on first before we confront the Sons openly."
"What are we gonna do about the other drugs in the city?" Mink asked curiously.
"Weed is fine. Opioids, shrooms, prescription meds, and tranqs? Less fine. Anyone wants to peddle that shit in our territory, they'll have to pay hefty kickbacks and make sure they treat their customers right. No accepting sexual favors or the like. The bigger, harder stuff? Fentanyl, heroine, cocaine, meth? Not in Saint territory. We're pushing it out completely," Playa declared.
Mink nodded happily at that, clenching her fists excitedly. Carlos and Jean-Paul expressed their own agreement for the plan, and Playa gave the room a winning smile.
"Shaundi has sent some guys out to get us the Loa Dust for testing. We should have enough by the weekend," he stated.
"How exactly are we gonna figure out what it's made of?" Mink inquired, which was a good question. "I don't think any of the Saints have a background in chemical engineering or pharmacology."
"Well, I actually do have a Bachelor's Degree in chemistry, but it's from Stilwater U so it's probably worth less than the paper it's printed on," Playa admitted with a shrug. "And while I know my way around chemicals and stuff, you're right, we're gonna need a lab and a technician. And Shaundi claims to have the right person for the job."
"That's right!" Shaundi said with a nod. "I went through a couple options, but the best one is, without a doubt, Laura."
"Laura…? Wait, do you mean that housewife who made pot brownies and other edibles? And who sold Koma and other drugs using bake sales as cover?" Johnny asked, and Playa immediately knew who they were talking about.
"Oh, her. She made great snickerdoodles," he recalled.
"That's indeed her! Unfortunately, when the Sons of Samedi came to town, they pushed her out of her old stomping grounds when she didn't play ball with 'em. Laura refused to deal any of the Sons' crap, or take any either. After a while the General got fed up with Laura's operations cutting into his own and arranged for the police to pull a Sting on her. Framed her as one of his top dealers about a year ago."
"Wait, does that mean she's in jail?" Playa asked slowly.
"Yup. Got nineteen more years to go on her sentence," Shaundi replied. "But there is nobody better than her at analyzing drugs or replicating their recipes."
"So, we have to break her out, then," Pierce guessed.
"Bingo!" Shaundi said, shooting finger guns his way. Everyone seemed to be onboard with Shaundi's plan, although Mink looked distracted.
"Do you have something to say, Mink?" Playa asked, noticing the way the new member was fidgeting in her seat.
"That's… actually, I do. See, Laura is my mom," Mink admitted.
"I do recall her mentioning she had a daughter," Playa replied slowly, looking at her closely. "Amy, wasn't it? Supposed to be sixteen?"
"Yeah, but that was five years ago. I'm twenty-one, now," Mink replied. "And call me 'Mink.' That's my villain name!"
"Do you want to help get her out of jail?" Johnny asked, getting to the main point, and she nodded.
"Yes! I still visit her from time to time in prison, so it shouldn't raise any suspicions if I go to the jail. I can help bust her out!" Mink exclaimed, and the other Saints looked thoughtful.
"That works better than my plan," Johnny claimed.
"Yeah? I'll bet it was something like shooting your way in," Shaundi joked, although the Asian-American gangster simply nodded his head.
"Laura's locked up in Stilwater Penitentiary on Rockbird Island, the same one you and Carlos escaped from," Shaundi continued, turning back to matters at hand. "There's a ferry for visitors and people who work at the prison that travels to and from Stilwater and the mainland, and back again."
"But we won't be able to get Laura out that way," Pierce said.
"So, we grab a boat or whatever. Let Amy – sorry, Mink – visit her mom and deliver a lock pick or something else. Meanwhile, another team will approach the island in a separate boat and help Laura escape," Shaundi said.
"With some tweaks, it might work," Johnny said, and Playa thought it over before nodding and giving his agreement.
"Then let's plan a breakout," Playa declared, pumping a fist into the air.
The rest of the Saints nodded at that, and they set to work on getting the woman free.
111 &&&&& 111
Mink looked up at the towering structure that was Stilwater Penitentiary as the ferry approached it. It was no Alcatraz, but it was still one of the largest and most secure facilities on the west coast. Criminals from all over California got sent here if their crimes were terrible enough, and it had extensive medical facilities that catered to inmates who had health problems.
Of course, it was still a prison, and more often than not, most of the infirmary patients were in there due to prisoner-on-prisoner violence.
And not too long ago, it'd been where the infamous ganglord and supervillain Skunk of the Third Street Saints had been kept while in his coma.
But after his escape, a dozen security revamps had been implemented, and the place was bristling with guards, cameras, and automated turrets. It was a fortress, and nobody would be escaping easily from here.
'I hope this works,' Mink thought to herself as she shifted the box she was holding under her arm around a bit. With a neutral expression on her face, she stepped off of the ferry as soon as it docked and walked up to the visitor's entrance with a few other people.
It was a Saturday, and there were many people looking to reconnect with loved ones over the weekend. Each person was patted down and their care packages were checked and double-checked before being allowed in.
Mink waited patiently as her box was scanned thrice by x-rays and other devices, before it was determined that yes, it was just a box with cookies in it. No hidden messages or items at all.
"In you go, booth nine," the guard eventually grunted, waving Mink in. She nodded in thanks and went inside to the meeting room.
Instead of glass panels separating the prisoners from their visitors, booths with video cameras and screens were set up, allowing the inmates to speak to people via video call without even getting close to them. A stringent security method, but a necessary one, when Quirks could allow a person to pass right through the glass as if it didn't exist.
"Hey, mom," Mink said, sitting down into a seat and looking into the camera so her mother could see her.
"Amy! My darling flufflebug! How are you? And your sisters? Are they doing well?" an excited middle-aged woman with pink hair asked excitedly, her own face appearing in the screen with Mink's booth.
"Don't call me that," Mink whined, embarrassed.
"Aww, but you're my fuzzy little princess! Can't a mother call her own daughter affectionate nicknames?" Lauren the drug-pedaling housewife asked with a pout.
"Ugh, whatever," Mink huffed, rolling her eyes. "Anyways, Carie and Leni are doing fine. They miss you and send their love."
"They're going to be graduating high school soon, right?" Laura asked.
"Yup. Got scholarships lined up so they won't have to go to Stilwater U," Mink said, a flash of various emotions crossing her face as she mentioned the worst college in the state.
"I'm sorry about what happened," Laura sadly apologetically.
"It's fine, it's not like it was your fault," Mink sighed. "The Sons bribed the administration, there was nothing you could do."
"I could have shoved my boot up the General's asshole and made him taste fucking leather is what I could have done," Laura growled. "He only went after you because of me."
"I don't blame you for that," Mink assured her. "Not like I was doing well in class either. I wasn't gonna sleep with any of the teachers for a grade and that's the only way to get anything above a fucking 'C' in that pit of shit."
"Well, when I'm out, I'm going to make sure everybody who hurt my little girl gets what's coming to them," Laura growled.
"Uh-huh," Mink said. "Anyways, I brought cookies. They're not up to your quality, but I think they turned out okay."
She then leaned in a bit. "Maybe you could, um, tell me what you think? Maybe 'break them down' and see where I got the recipes wrong?"
Mink's mother raised an eyebrow, but nodded slowly, a look of realization crossing her face.
"Of course, dear," she replied. "This just like the 'other' cookies you've sent me before?"
"Sorta. It's a new recipe. More ingredients than usual, some new ones as well," Mink told her.
"Well, I'll be glad to critique your work. So! Onto other topics! How're things in Stilwater now that the Brotherhood is gone?"
The two chatted for a while longer, before Mink had to leave as her visiting time was up. She gave her mom a farewell, promising to see her next weekend, and then left.
Then, Mink boarded the ferry back to the city, and returned. Once she got off the boat, she didn't head home, but instead slunk around till she reached a part of the docks that was mostly empty. A few Saints loitered nearby and gave her nods, and she returned them.
She then headed into an old waterfront fishing warehouse, where boats would come in and unload their hauls directly into the building to be processed.
Where old fishing boat had once bobbed in the water, a newer, sleeker model of vessel waited, and Mink whistled in appreciation.
"An Axolotl, huh? Damn, that's a nice mini-yacht," she praised, admiring it.
"Nice, huh? Had to give it a new paintjob. Red just wasn't it's color," Playa said, poking his head out from the cabin. "So, how'd it go? Deliver the goods?"
"I did," Mink confirmed. "Not the first time I've done this."
"Yeah, but it will be the first time you're helping your mother escape," Playa pointed out, and she shrugged.
"Whatev's. I've hidden drugs and messages inside cookies and brownies to give to her before. This time the substances are just a bit more… volatile than usual," she chuckled.
"Well, alrighty, then. Hop on in, we're going to Rockbird Island," Playa told her.
Mink did so, and the duo were off, speeding across the water in the direction of the prison. They soon reached the island, and carefully avoided all of the sensor buoys, patrol cutters, and cameras thanks to some stolen credentials Playa was broadcasting. The automatic turrets wouldn't fire upon them either, and they parked the boat in the water near a stretch of beach, that wasn't too far off from Laura's cell.
It was also in a small camera blind spot and behind a section of a small cliff face, so as long as they weren't spotted by any of the snipers stationed on the prison's roof or in the watch towers, they'd be fine.
"Any second now," Playa said, looking down at his watch as they waited for the appointed time.
Then, when the clock hit four thirty pm, which was the scheduled guard shift, multiple explosions rang out from the imposing structure, and smoke and steam gushed from a couple of windows.
"I still can't believe there were enough chemicals stuffed into those treats to do all that," Playa muttered, watching the smoke spiral into the sky as the sirens began to blare.
"Chemicals are crazy," Mink agreed.
Playa nodded slowly. For the mission, Mink had baked a whole bunch of cookies, and then slipped a ton of chemicals into them that her mother could extract with her Quirk, and then use to whip up a bomb to break out.
In the past, Mink had smuggling drugs to her mom the exact same way, who'd then traded them amongst the inmates and guards for favors. As such, even if the bribed guards checking the care package noticed any oddities in it, they'd just assume they were just more drugs for the housewife to sell.
A few minutes later, they spotted a figure crawl over the barbed-wire at the top of a chain link fence, who then began to run towards them.
"There she is," Playa said, watching as a middle-aged woman with pink hair jogged down the beach towards the boat.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't my old partner in crime?" Laura said with a smirk as she spotted Playa.
"Nice of you to remember me," Playa said, touched that someone he'd worked with once five years ago had recalled him.
"Hard not to, considering the way you rose to power afterwards," Laura said. "You know, in prison, I would brag that I knew you and used to run drugs with you. Got me plenty of clout, especially after you busted out immediately after waking up from a coma."
"Yeah, that was one wild night," Playa laughed.
"Hmm. And I see my daughter is here, too. I figured something was up when she shipped me enough explosive chems to blow up a small house," Laura said, giving her daughter a look.
"Uh, hey, mom. I joined the Saints. Surprise?" Mink chuckled weakly, shrinking back from the look of motherly disapproval Laura was giving her.
"How'd you do it?" Playa asked curiously as he drove the boat away from the prison island. "Break out, I mean."
"I flushed a couple of makeshift bombs down the toilet. Then, when the gel capsules you gave me dissolved, they reacted with the water, creating a chemical reaction that led to them exploding inside the plumbing. Plenty of chaos afterwards to use the rest of the bombs to blow my way out of my cell. So glad I managed to trade some cocaine to the warden in exchange for a cell with a beachside view," Laura chuckled.
"That's my mom!" Mink said with a wide grin.
"I'm very disappointed in you, Amy. Helping an old woman like me break out of jail? But I'm also so proud of you, Amy!" Laura pouted, turning to her daughter. "I'm quite conflicted. On one hand, you're not supposed to be getting into trouble like this. I thought I raised you better. But on the other, fuck the judicial system!"
"Damn straight!" Mink cheered. "The cops who arrested you were more crooked than a pretzel, and the whole trial was a sham!"
"Indeed it was," Laura agreed, before glancing at Playa. "Still, I suppose if my princess is going to become a gangster, she might as well be in the Saints."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, ma'am," Playa drawled. "Now, let's get you both home."
A moment later, wailing sounds and flashing red and blue lights drew their attention, and Playa frowned as he spotted a trio of police boats approaching them.
"Mink, please tell those cops to fuck off," Playa asked, and Mink nodded, reaching into a duffel bag Johnny had given them before the mission, and pulled out a grenade launcher. Mink began firing it at the pursuing speedboats, trying to scare them off. The explosions spooked the three police watercraft, and one of them even did a flip as it tried to evade, but hit a wave instead.
"That's my girl!" Laura cheered, punching the air with a laugh as she watched her daughter fend off the men sent to bring her back to jail.
"We better get under cover they send the helicopters after us," Playa said, glancing skyward. None yet, but the police would be fools not to send a few out.
And Playa was proven correct when, just as they made into the safety of the old fishing warehouse, the droning whir of helicopters passed by overhead, heading out to sea to try and locate the already vanished Saints.
"That was easy," Playa said, stretching.
"I'll admit, that wasn't as bad as I feared," Laura admitted. "And though I do hate to impose on you anymore, but could you provide a lift back home?"
"I can do that," Playa confirmed, tossing a pair of car keys over to Mink. "Can you drive? My wrists are aching from handling the boat."
"Sure, boss," Mink said, and they made their way to Playa's getaway vehicle, neatly stowed by the building. As they went, Playa shot off a group text to let the others know the job was done, and Laura was freed.
'I will let you know when to send her the samples,' Playa informed Shaundi, getting a winky face emoji in response.
He then slipped into the backseat of the car, while Mink took the driver's seat and Laura sat down in the front passenger's seat.
Mink then turned on the engine, and drove out of the docks, heading into Stilwater proper.
"This is close to where Johnny lives," Playa noted idly a few minutes later as Mink drove them to her mother's house.
"That so? We should invite him over for a dinner party someday!" Laura suggested, and Playa nodded slowly at that.
"Sounds like fun," he said, and he wondered how Johnny would react to knowing he and Aisha would be getting an invitation in the days to come.
Soon, Mink drove up to a nice-looking suburban home, with a neat lawn and an SUV in the driveway. It was the very picture of an ordinary family dwelling. Not the place one would assume a drug dealer would be living.
Upon seeing it, Laura excitedly hopped out of the car, and darted up to the front door, throwing it open.
"Tobias! I'm home!" she called out, and a freckled man with ginger hair done in dreadlocks came out, flashing a dazzling smile at his wife. His teeth and nails were made of some sort of semi-transparent white crystal, and he was completely shirtless, wearing tie-dye pants. Upon seeing Laura, he swept her up into a hug.
"I heard the news! Congrats on your breakout!" he cheered. He then turned to Playa and Mink and gave them a grateful nod. "Thank you for busting my wife out of jail after she was falsely accused."
"No problem," Playa said. "I admit, we have ulterior motives for it."
"So long as it don't hurt her none," Tobias replied. "Anyways, the Saints are cool with me and boys. Might even join up with ya'll if you keep doing good around town."
"We could also use more people who want to clean up the streets," Playa said, shaking hands with the taller man. He nodded, and then turned around to head back into the house.
"I'll go get you some tea!" he said as he went back to the kitchen.
"Uh, hey, don't want to be rude, but didn't you have a different husband last time?" Playa asked in a low voice as Tobias walked off, and Laura nodded with a scowl.
"Damn bastard of an ex was cheating on me with his secretary! Dumped his ass four years and haven't looked back since!" Laura declared. Amy nodded in disgust.
"Well, that's good to hear," Playa said. "Anyways, like I told Tobias, the reason we got you free was because we were hoping you'd be able to help the Saints out."
"Not sure how much I can help you. All I know is drugs and baking," Laura apologized.
"That's exactly what we need, actually. Shaundi said you were a whiz at figuring out what went into different drugs, and were hoping you could find what Loa Dust is made of," Playa requested.
"Oh, is that all?" the housewife inquired. "Sure, no problem."
"That was easy," Playa said, surprised but pleased. "How will you do it? Will you need any special equipment?"
"Not at all, I can do it from home. See, my Quirk is called 'Sift,'" Laura explained. "It lets me separate matter apart down to the most basic particles. Get me some Loa Dust and I can separate it out into its base ingredients. Then, I'll be able to figure out what they're using."
"That sounds very useful," Playa noted, and Mink nodded in agreement, proud of her mother.
"Honestly, I already know most of what it's made of," Laura admitted. "I was working on cracking Loa Dust to see what it was made of ages ago. But the General found out before I finished and that's why he set me up. Didn't want me discovering his little secrets."
"Well, what is it?" Playa asked curiously.
"Most of it, like eighty percent, is THC, the main psychoactive compound in marijuana. It's what gets people high," Laura explained. "The other twenty percent was harder to pin down, but I got most of the common chemicals already figured out. However, there's this one substance I have no idea about. Whatever it is, it's the key to Loa Dust's curative properties."
She folded her arms across her chest. "Give me a week, and I'll be able to find out what on Earth this illusive stuff is, and have a recipe ready for you to replicate."
"You've got it. And feel free to ask the Saints for any help you might need," Playa told her.
"Of course. Thank you for saving me, and keeping my daughter safe," she said, before turning to said daughter and giving her a hug. "And thank you as well, Amy. You're a good girl."
"Thanks, mom," Mink said with a smile, though it was a bit strained and embarrassed as she was hugged in front of her boss. She then turned to Playa. "Is that everything?"
"Yup. Why don't you take the rest of the day off, spend it with family," Playa suggested. He took the car keys back from her, while also handing over a roll of hundred-dollar bills. Mink took the money with a grateful smile and turned back to her mother, talking to her excitedly about how she'd been in the past year.
Smiling at the heartwarming scene, Playa drove back to the hideout to get some work done. No rest for the wicked, in the end.