The Powerless Mafia
***
A short story written by me and three others for a course on Wagner’s Ring Cycle. This story is a direct parallel to The Valkyrie.
Written in April, 2012
***
“Shh,” says Mr. Smith. “He’ll hear us.”
“Nonsense,” replies Linda. “That should definitely keep him out for some time. Besides, I don’t care if he does. I’m starting to think that he doesn’t really deserve any of my time anymore.”
“You’re just now starting to realize that? That was actually the first thing I thought when he walked through the door. Not to mention, you were kind enough to help me out. Thank you, by the way.”
“Oh, it’s nothing, really.”
“No, but it is. You and I aren’t really in the same crowd if you know what I mean, your husband being part of the police force and all. I run from those guys on pretty much a daily basis.”
“Funny you should stumble into the home of one then isn’t it?” she giggles, staring intently back into his eyes.
“Actually, yes, it kind of is,” he smiles back.
“So earlier,” says Linda, “what you said about your father was, well…”
“Sad?”
“Yes,” she replies, her eyes darting towards the floor.
“Well, I try not to let it get me, but sometimes it does. He promised me a weapon, you know. All those days running around the outskirts of town with him, barely getting by. He promised me, one day, that when I needed it the most, he’d supply me with a weapon that would never fail me.”
“You mean a gun? My husband has a hundred of those,” says Linda pointing up towards the pantry. “He’s a little paranoid, actually.”
“Yes, I do mean a gun, but not an ordinary gun, one loaded with special bullets that would never miss my enemies.”
“Do you see that hole in the wall?” says Linda.
“Yes,” says Mr. Smith, peering into what looks like the manifestation of a lost temper.
“There’s some sort of weapon in there. I know there is because Hunter has never bothered to patch it up. That and the fact that he tells me never to touch it.”
“Let’s find out what’s in here,” says Mr. Smith as he reaches inside the gaping hole in the wall.
“Be careful! I don’t know what else he has in there!”
“Ah, it is a weapon!” exclaims Mr. Smith, pulling out an especially accurate, fully loaded gun with a red trigger. I could really use this. Could this be what my father promised me? I remember a similar gun from my childhood, red trigger and all. Perhaps my father slipped it here for me to find? He always taught me to look out for enemies.”
“That is definitely not the gun of a policeman, yet Hunter has always kept that gun in there,” remarks Linda. “Although, I’m not sure why. Maybe out of fear… or for evidence?”
“Maybe,” says Mr. Smith, “But either way, it has been planted.” He tucks the gun away and takes Linda’s hand. A hint of sorrow overtakes his face.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
“It’s just,” he sighs, “when you’re in the this family business, things get pretty twisted. You’d expect cutting corners to actually get us somewhere in this city, but it never does. Or at least not that I’ve seen.”
“Well,” says Linda, “I know when I’ve had a rough day dealing with Hunter, I just have to try and forget about it for a while. Come, I’ve got something to show you,” she says, grabbing a ladder and pushing off one of the loose ceiling tiles in Hunter’s decrepit apartment. “Don’t just stand there, help me up,” she says softly. Mr. Smith then grabs her waist and lifts her into what seems like a lofted area. After Linda has made it safely in the loft Mr. Smith pulls himself up as well, struggling a bit. “Here, let me help you,” says Linda. And with that, she grabs his hands and holds on to Mr. Smith as he continues to pull himself up into the tiny space above the rest of the apartment.
“Where are we?” asks Mr. Smith.
“You’ll see,” says Linda, standing up, fumbling toward what appeared to be stairs. “Here,” she says. “Just up a little more.” So Mr. Smith takes her word and follows her up the small set of stairs until they both emerge on the rooftop. “Lovely, isn’t it?” says Linda after a moment or two of silence.
“The second most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” says Mr. Smith peering down at the entire city’s glimmering lights.
“And the first?” says Linda, looking down slightly as her eyes slowly wander and make their way back to Mr. Smith’s.
“Do you even have to ask that question?” he says, embracing her.
“Look!” exclaims Linda pointing to twinkling lights that lined the flowers on the rooftop garden next door, “The flowers are so lovely this evening. Spring has finally arrived.”
“Yes, it has,” says Mr. Smith, staring up at the moon, as it shines down and reflects light onto Linda’s long, flowing hair. The two pause breathlessly for a moment and realize what must be done. “We have leave here,” says Mr. Smith, almost too abruptly. “I’m so sorry.”
Linda fits her fingers in between his. “Don’t be. I understand. It’s the only way if we want any chance together. And I want more than chance, Mr. Smith, I want to be with you.”
“And I want to be with you. But we must escape first. Follow me, and don’t make a sound. I know places all over this city where we can hide out until…”
“Hunter…” she finishes. “Oh, Mr. Smith! You know you’ll have to fight him eventually. I mean, you were in his house, with me and now we’ll both be gone. He may look like a good man in uniform, but let me assure you, he’s not. He will kill you if he finds us.”
“Then he must never find us. Now come on!” he says, grabbing Linda’s hand and leading her down an old rickety fire escape. “We will disappear from this place together. I know somewhere we can go, I promise.” Although the more Mr. Smith thinks about it, the less he is sure that he actually does know a place to seek safety. But he lets all negative thoughts subside as he helps Linda down from the last step. As quickly as they met, the two lovers are out of sight from the world, at least for now.
****
Flora storms into Victor’s office as she furiously strikes up conversation with her husband, relentlessly questioning him. “So why exactly were you telling Batilda to make sure Mr. Smith’s affair with Linda would be of little to no matter soon? What exactly are you up to this time, Victor? Is Linda not the nice housewife of Detective Hunter who works down at the police station? Surely, you would not cross the policemen. They are, after all, the ones that invoke so much justice in this country!”
Alarmed that his wife overheard his supposedly private telephone conversation, Victor initially tries to play dumb, as though all his secretive work is perfectly legal and just. He claims, “Do not worry Flora, I have yet to fail you before, and I will not fail you now. While I may not always be able to disclose all of my work, it has always provided us a nice home and food on the table. Besides, Mr. Smith is a nice guy. He works hard for us and he is deserving of such a caring and understanding woman like Linda. Why shouldn’t they be together? The two are a perfect match!”
Flora, shocked that Victor has not considered the moral complications of such a love affair, shoots her husband a dirty look and responds, “Well, I don’t know, Victor, maybe this little thing called marriagemight get in the way? Pesky how that works sometimes, isn’t it? But then again, you wouldn’t know the full implications of those vows, as you never seem to spend time with this family, always snooping off doing your own thing and labeling it as ‘business.’ Can’t you see? It is imperative that Linda stay married to Hunter. Not only are the two united by sacred matrimony, but Hunter is also a police officer for Christ’s sake! Your best criminal and a police officer’s wife, it’s almost incestuous if you asked me! Mr. Smith simply cannot be involved in an affair with the wife of such a notorious detective. It can only lead to ill fate.”
Victor scrambles to rebuttal. “Yes, yes,” he finally blurts out. “I understand the whole moral aspect of the matter, but sometimes you must take the economics of the situation into consideration as well. While I personally find it compulsory that Mr. Smith and Linda are together for nothing else but their feelings of true love, there is a crucial business decision behind the matter as well. That is why I have entrusted my best accomplice to the job: Batilda. With her behind this matter, I am absolutely positive the situation will end up well for everyone.”
Flora, feeling as though her intelligence is being disrespected, exclaims, “Oh Perfect! As if this situation did not seem bad enough, Batilda has to be in charge of it as well! Do not think that I am oblivious to your work, Victor. I am perfectly capable of grasping what you do and why. I understand some of the things you do may not always be clean in terms of legality, but I do attempt to reconcile these things with myself every once in a while. However, whenever I am the most suspicious of your actions it always seems to be when you’re around Batilda. Why can you not see she is a poor influence on you? Not a good thing stems from her actions. With her on whatever job this is I am fearful Hunter may be hurt. And if I found out that a police officer was killed or even hurt because of something you may have decreed, I would never forgive you. Do not forget that.”
Flora, exasperated, pauses to catch her breath before finishing by telling Victor, “In fact, if anyone is to disappear, it should be Mr. Smith. Mr. Smith must be immoral as well if he cannot even comprehend the wrong of lusting after a married woman. With Batilda and Mr. Smith on this job together, the outcome will be bleak, given the best-case scenario. I want you to hear me very clearly this time: No longer do I want you working with or associating with a man like Mr. Smith. He may have good intentions, but nonetheless he is blinded by his love and as a result will never amount to anything of societal value.”
Victor, understanding how serious his wife’s remarks are, thinks to himself how strongly she must feel about this to finally confront him about his questionable duties. While he feels that making Mr. Smith ‘disappear’ would be best for staying ‘clean’ and running operations, he also feels that Mr. Smith’s heart is in the right place and therefore deserving of his lover, Linda. However, he knows that no matter how easy it may be to cover his trail after killing Hunter, his love and relationship with Flora and what is best for his ‘family’ must preside over all else. He could not stand to be hated or divorced by his wife, as it would show weakness on his part and destroy his reputation. Furthermore, his wife’s love should mean more to him than his hopes for his young prospect, Mr. Smith. Secretly raising and training such a skilled young man as Mr. Smith temporarily disallows Victor to think in terms of business, something that he highly dislikes. But he partially finds his way out of these feelings of empathy. As a result, Victor gives into Flora’s persuasion. “As much as it pains me to say this, I’m afraid you may be right, dear,” he sighs. “I will talk Batilda shortly and let her know of the change in plans. Severing the ties of marriage with a police officer would prove too costly to business and our relationship. We cannot cross such boundaries. Thank you for your advice.” Flora smiles and leaves, happy that she has achieved victory over her husband and supposedly Batilda’s intentions. She knows that she has attained her moral goal.
Batilda passes Flora on her way to Victor’s office. Batilda is surprised at the jovial bounce in Flora’s step. However, when she opens the door to meet Victor she quickly sees why. Victor is grimacing at the choice he felt forced to make. He quietly informs Batilda of the change in plans and explains how it would simply be too much to put Flora through the original operation.
****
“Wow, your wife is quite controlling,” says Batilda, kicking her feet up onto her desk. A dim light hangs down in front of Victor’s face, amplifying his stark grimace.
“I am the boss of this entire operation, yet I have no freedom!” exclaims Victor as he slumps onto the couch. “My wife, my responsibilities, they leave me helpless.”
Batilda, seeing how troubled he is removes her feet from the desk and carefully asks, “What has she said to make you so upset?”
“I can’t take this anymore!” Victor screams as he stands up and begins punching the wall in distress.
“Please stop!” says Batilda, throwing her gun as she falls to her knees. Victor, seeing Batilda’s deep concern, stops and begins to explain things to her, or at least the best that she can. He sits down once more. Batilda does the same.
“A long time ago I came across a gypsy. She lived in a basement, and always slept. She said she knew my future, but wouldn’t tell me. I had to seduce her to get what I needed, and in turn you were born.”
“My mother was a gypsy?” says Batilda surprised. “How could you not tell me this?”
“To protect you, I brought you home and told Flora I had found you lying on the street. She was skeptical of course, but I couldn’t let that stop me. I needed you, for my enemies were beginning to grow in number. You would be my right hand man, working behind the scenes to stop Albert’s gang from retrieving the master weapon.”
“I am just a tool to you then?”
Victor replies, shaking his head, “No, no. You are my daughter, but the fate of the family business rests in your hands. Our success relies on the undercover deeds that you perform.”
“Where is the master weapon now?” Batilda asks.
“A hitman I hired awhile back has it. He hides in the slums. I would go and get it from him myself, but he would easily recognize me. This could have serious repercussions for our business and cause many unnecessary deaths. Flora was right. I need someone unaffiliated with my entire operation to go kill him, but I can no longer send Mr. Smith. I’m afraid his work for me is done.”
“Mr. Smith has been with us for so many years though,” exclaims Batilda, “how can we just kill him?”
“As much as I love him, I realize he is a liability. He is no good to us anymore and in the worst-case scenario, he will expose us to the police due to his close relationship with Linda. As you know, she is Hunter’s wife. Hunter and some of his squad are enraged over this. If we back Mr. Smith, someone will get hurt and it will be many of the men that work for me, Batilda. Therefore you must stop Mr. Smith immediately. Be careful, though, he is sure to be armed. He will not be taken easily. I’ve heard he has found quite the gun.”
“You can not do this, he is one of us. He has done nothing wrong, you must have mercy.”
“How dare you question me,” says Victor “Have you not heard a word I’ve said? Your allegiance is to me you foolish girl!” He storms out of the room angrily.
Batilda stands in shock, amazed at Victor’s cruel nature. She picks up her gun, “I have never seen him like this,” she says quietly to herself, “There is so much anger. How can he be so ruthless? What if I am the next to go? I can’t trust Victor any longer, I must fend for myself,” she decides.
****
Mr. Smith and Linda, exhausted from running, arrive at a bus stop on the outskirts of town. “We can rest here and wait for a bus that can take us out of this God-forsaken city.”
“No. Hunter is bound to be up by now and he will surely notice I’m gone. He’ll easily find us. We have to keeping moving.”
“I’m not scared of him.”
“You should be. He will find us,” says Linda frantically.
“You’re right. He will and when he does I’ll kill him.” Mr. Smith takes out the gun he found at Hunter’s apartment, looking intently at the sleek weapon.
A blare of police sirens is heard in the background.
“See!” Linda cries, “We can’t escape, we can’t get out!” In her panic Linda faints, her limp body slipping onto the bus stop bench. Mr. Smith leans over her and places a kiss on her forehead, putting his bag under her head for support.
Mr. Smith is startled when a bright light appears from the alley across the street. In reaction, he jumps up brandishing his newly found weapon, knowing he can’t be defeated. The lights go out and a car door opens and slams shut. A strange woman steps out of the alley into the soft glow of the streetlamps. Mr. Smith soon recognizes the figure of Batilda.
“Put down the gun, kid.” She demands.
“Batilda, what are you doing here?” Mr. Smith asks, lowering his gun into his coat pocket.
“I’m not someone you want to cross paths with today. Running into me under such circumstances means trouble.”
“What do you want then?” says Mr. Smith, abrasively questioning Batilda. Concealed in his coat pocket, Mr. Smith’s hand firmly grasps the handle of his gun in order to be prepared at any second.
“Leave that tramp and come with me. Trust me; it’s for your own good.”
“She’s not a tramp. I love her.”
“Victor can offer you protection. Come with me and you’ll be safe.”
“If he can protect me, then he can protect her too.”
“She’s more trouble than she’s worth. And Victor doesn’t like trouble.”
“I won’t leave her. I’ll protect her. Look at what my father has placed for me to find,” says Mr. Smith holding up the gun once more. Batilda laughs and with one deft movement swipes the gun from his grip. She steps back, takes aim at Mr. Smith’s chest and pulls the trigger. In shock, Mr. Smith’s hands fly to his chest.
“See kid, it’s loaded with blanks. It seems to me like your father didn’t want you doing any more damage.”
“Fine, I don’t care. But I won’t leave Linda. I don’t care if I die. I don’t care if we both die. Then at least we’ll be together.”
“You’d die for some girl you just met?” Batilda asks, somewhat astonished at his fervent remarks. Mr. Smith nods assuredly while beads of sweat drip down his face.
“Seems like a waste to me. Here take this.” Batilda throws him a gun, which he fumbles for briefly before catching.
“That’s got real bullets in it, so be careful where you aim it.”
“Thank you,” says Mr. Smith.
“I’ll help you if I can and hopefully you and your girl can get out of this city alive.” Batilda disappears back into the darkness of the alley. The sirens are heard in the distance.
“Mr. Smith?” Linda stirs restlessly. Mr. Smith races to her side. From out of the alley steps a sinister figure, gun raised. Batilda sees that Mr. Smith’s back is turned. She runs from her hiding place and tackles Hunter to the ground, his bullet barely missing Mr. Smith. Mr. Smith reaches for his gun tentatively, hesitating on the trigger.
“Shoot him!” Batilda cries, pinning the policeman’s arms behind his back. Mr. Smith hesitates too long and from the darkness emerges a large, imposing figure. Victor, with gun brandished, points his weapon at Mr. Smith.
“Drop the gun, son.” Victor says calmly. Mr. Smith keeps a firm grip on the gun Batilda gave him. His hand shakes as he keeps the gun pointed at the tremendous man.
“Victor, wait” Batilda pleads, but he disobeys. He pulls the trigger and Mr. Smith falls dead to the ground. Taking advantage of the diversion, Hunter wrestles out of the grasp of the distracted Batilda. Hunter starts to run away but quickly feels the sharp string of a bullet, Victor’s gun swiftly claiming another victim.
Linda, now fully awake sees the two dead men sprawled out on the cement. She is about to let out a scream when Batilda comes up behind her, and covers her mouth. She drags the hysterical woman to her car where it sits in the darkness of the alley.
“Don’t worry I’ll protect you,” Batilda whispers to Linda as she stuffs her in the back of her car.
“Batilda! Show yourself!” Victor cries as he approaches the alley. But Batilda dismisses the call and begs the driver to speed away, leaving the scene of death behind her. The sobs of the heartbroken Linda fill the car.
****
“Shh! Calm down, Miss!” says Batilda covering Linda’s mouth. “Do you honestly want them to hear you? Really? Is that what you want?” Tears fill Linda eyes as she exhales and stops attempting to scream.
“Bu-but Mr. Smith, he’s dead! How could you do this to me?” Her sobs grow louder and louder.
“Hit the gas, Walda,” says Batilda, and the car zooms ahead with a screech. “Me? I tried to save him!”
“No, I mean, how come you saved me? Why couldn’t you have just left me there with him?”
“Don’t be stupid! You would have gotten killed! I know Victor better than anyone, and I know for a fact that he would have shot you!”
“I wish he had, then at least I could be with Mr. Smith! The light of my life gone, just like that,” she cries. “Pull over. Let me out. I’ll find this Victor and give him a piece of my mind. Let him kill me if he wants.”
“No, no! You can’t do that, you just can’t,” she says, grasping Linda’s hand.
“Why not? What does it matter anyway?”
“You have a part to play in this world and while I cannot tell you exactly what it is, pull over here Walda, I can tell you that you matter. You’re safe here, now get out and go find some shelter. These are good friends on this street that will take you in for a while. Goodbye, Linda.”
She looks back at Linda as they slowly drive away. With each passing block, Linda becomes nothing more than a blurry figure standing by a few buildings. She knew this was the right thing to do, but explaining herself to Victor would be another story.
“Where are we headed now Walda?” asks Batilda.
“Back to head quarters. Our sisters are waiting on us there. Besides we have duties to finish. The world doesn’t revolve around you, Batilda.”
“I never said it did. It’s just, I’m afraid.”
“Of father?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, what will he say to me after he saw me disobey him and help Mr. Smith? He’ll go off on me. And who knows what that entails. You have to hide me, you can’t let him see me!” Walda pulls into a parking garage and she and Batilda walk into head quarters, Batilda sheepishly trailing behind.
“I’ll say what I can, but honestly you cannot avoid Victor. You know that Batilda. Why you think you can hide from him is beyond me,” says Walda as she employs a special knock on the door. It opens and two enter the into a small room, packed with Batilda and Walda’s sisters, accomplices to Victor’s ‘business’ as well.
****
“Batilda, you’re back!” says one of the sisters, swinging her arms around Batilda.
“Where were you two?” said another, “we were just about to start our meeting.” Walda throws her car keys down on the table and pulls out a chair.
“You better sit down and explain yourself,” she says to Batilda.
“There’s not much to explain. Other than the fact that I disobeyed Victor and that I could use some protection from you guys. Please, it’s all I’ve ever asked of any of you.” The girls look around the room and then at one another.
“You what?” questions one.
“She disobeyed Victor, you idiot,” replies another.
“Why wouldn’t you just do as he says, Batilda? He’ll be fuming mad at you when he comes here. And I for one will not defend your actions, as they were probably uncalled for.” The other sisters look around and begin to nod their heads.
“Yeah,” they all say in unison.
“Here he comes now!” exclaims one, as they all jet back to a causal arrangement, some stand while other take a seat at the table in the center of the room. All appear to be conducting important business. Batilda quietly slips behind a door, hoping to disappear.
“Alright you insolent girls, where is Batilda? And don’t lie to me, I know she is with you!”
“Forgive her,” says Walda, pointing behind the door.
“Come with me,” says Victor, looking sternly at Batilda. They exit the small room and walk out into the alleyway.
“I can’t believe you would do this, Batilda. I clearly told you to kill Mr. Smith and what do you go and do? Give him a loaded gun and to top that off, restrain Hunter? You may not be as bright as I thought you were. I can’t believe you would allow yourself to do this. Think about the chaos and harm it would cause all of us if I acted ever acted on a whim like you just did. What I do may not be lawful, but there’s order to it and you can’t go fooling around with that order. It can end up costing us in the end.”
“I know,” she says, pain overtaking her entire expression. “I’m sorry. I know I could have cost us everything had things turned out the way I desired. Just give me my punishment so we can get on with things. I’ll do better on the next assignment, I promise.”
Victor turns away from Batilda and begins to pace down the alleyway. “That’s just it, Batilda. You’re not going to have another assignment. You’re done with all your work for me. I don’t want to catch you involved in any of our operations anymore. Period.”
“What?” says Batilda, her watery eyes staring into the distance where her father now stands, “You can’t do that.”
“I can and I must,” says Victor, his back still to Batilda. “If I allow you to disobey orders, imagine how many others in my business will do the same? You’ve broken the rules Batilda, and as much as I love you I can’t allow that to be so.”
“Love? If you really loved me, you would see this is all wrong and you wouldn’t be doing this!” says Batilda, as she falls to the ground in despair. “The only life I know is working for you, what on earth will I do now? Besides, was what I did really that bad? You have always loved Mr. Smith, like a son, if not more. You didn’t really want him dead and you know it!”
“Stop yelling at me. I know what I want, and I want what I decree. I am the boss, and that is how it works.”
“Well, I doesn’t seem that way to me,” says Batilda.
“That’s because you’re too much like your mother. She could always see things that I couldn’t. You’re too close to my mind Batilda, and in a business like ours that can be dangerous. My intentions need to be my own and those who work for me must blindly carry them out. You have proven to me that you are incapable of that,” he says walking toward his daughter and kneeling down beside of her. He kisses his child’s forehead.
“You will not bother me with your intentions anymore, Batilda. I cannot let them get in the way of what I have to do” he says, solemnly.
“What will you do with me?”
“Do you know that small abandoned house up on the hill just outside of town?”
“Yes,” she says, placing her head in her hands.
“You will go there and take these upon arriving,” he says, handing Batilda several large pills. “You will be induced in sleep for a while, until I find a suitable man to come and retrieve you. You will then go on to live a normal life for a girl your age and cease to be involved in these kind of activities.”
“Please, please, no! Anything but this, please!” she desperately cries.
“I don’t want to hear it. I have men planted all over this city. I will find out if you neglect to do exactly as I say,” he says harshly, helping his daughter to her feet. “You shine, kiddo. You shine brighter than some of the best men that have I’ve ever had work for me.” Batilda falls limply into Victor’s hug. After a moment or two returns the gesture.
“I love you,” she says quietly.
“And I you,” he says letting go of his daughter. “Go on, now,” says Victor.
But Batilda has already begun to leave.
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