The crew formed a semi-circle around the deck table and focused on a laptop in the center. Edan, Crow, Wynn, and Rebecca hunched over on the end opposite the screen and Cassidy, who held a remote clicker.
“I’m afraid I have both favorable and unfavorable updates to share,” Cassidy said as a chilly wind blew in and rustled her locks. “Fortunately for us—”
“Let’s not beat around the bush,” Crow said, his sneakers propped up atop the table. “What’s the bad news?”
She cast him another grin. The direct approach suited her best anyway. She pressed a button on her clicker and brought up an image of a fair-skinned man with short brown hair.
“This is Andrew Gibson, an officer in the state of Straton. About a decade ago, while off-duty, he ran into Leo Franklin, an ex-convict who he found ‘suspicious.’ After a night of stalking, he confronted Leo and, according to him, was forced to defend himself. This act resulted in Leo’s death.”
Cassidy clicked again, and the screen switched to a slide featuring a court trial sketch.
“Jury Dynamics, Dr. Billings’ former company, not only defended him in criminal court but managed to gain a ‘not guilty’ ruling.”
“I’m afraid I’m not seeing the connection between that case and the task at hand,” Edan said. “Would you mind explaining it to me?”
Cassidy clicked the button a third time.
“Diego,” a methodical, warm recording said, “you’re a smart man. You know that sometimes there are hard choices that must be made. The fact is, the man who died was not a good person. He was a danger to society and got what was coming to him. Officer Gibson shouldn’t be punished for doing the right thing.”
“Last I checked,” Cassidy said, “jury tampering is a crime. A crime which we now have evidence of thanks to Gianna.”
With her head held high and her gaze steady, Cassidy sucked in a deep, satisfying breath. The moment of vindication she had longed for had arrived at last.
Her grandfather couldn’t deny her intuition any longer. After all, she was right to insist on targeting Gianna. It only made sense; Gianna was Dr. Billings’ fixer for over a decade. It didn’t matter if he had transitioned from being the founder of Jury Dynamics to the host of his daytime talk show “A Bill of Health” – she was the key to bringing him down.
Edan's face was a map of unreadable lines, his emotions tucked beneath a shield of neutrality. His lips were set in a firm line.
A tight band constricted around her heart. His expression was like a lead weight weighing her down. He’ll understand my methods in due time, she reassured herself.
“I wonder why she had the evidence,” Rebecca asked while shuffling the deck of cards in a blur that would shame a seasoned blackjack dealer. “Do you think she’s blackmailing him or something?”
“It could be her way of protecting herself from any future legal troubles,” Crow said as he see-sawed back and forth on the chair’s legs. “It’s not uncommon in this line of work. I’m sure Cassidy’s done the same thing in case she thinks I’m going behind her back.” A mocking sneer warped his hawkish features. “Ain’t that right, Cassie?”
Cassidy leveled a glare at him. “I value the trust and loyalty of my comrades too highly to ever betray them in such a manner.”
Crow scoffed and met her glare. “I’m having a hard time believing you didn’t bother to investigate my past for leverage after I gave you my real name.”
She deepened her glare while wondering how to respond. After all, she did attempt to uncover more about him. However, her attempts were in vain. There was nothing significant to discover about Alban Sinclair. All it did was verify what she already knew; he ran with a gang while younger, got caught, was sentenced to serve in the military, and ultimately returned to the criminal underworld. Any connections he once had no longer held any weight.
“She doesn’t need any special tricks to put you in your place,” Wynn said. “Because if you pull anything, you’ll be answering to me. And let’s just say I’m not a fan of betrayal.”
Crow shifted his gaze and pointed a sharp finger at Rebecca. “You and her are an item, right?” He then shifted to Wynn, a devilish glint in his eyes. “You sure she’s not sneaking around with that guy too? It could explain why he’s so damn protective of her.”
Cassidy’s teeth clenched while Rebecca’s brows shot up. Wynn sprung to his feet, his hands balled, but Cassidy raised a hand, halting him.
“Crow,” Cassidy said, her voice stern as a judge’s gavel, “if you’re spoiling for a fight, I’ll indulge you later. But for now, we need to focus on the mission at hand.”
“Is there even anything left to focus on?” Crow asked. “The smoking gun's right in your hand. Pull the trigger, and let's move on.”
“That’s one possibility,” Cassidy said, “but it might not be the most efficient one. We need to weigh our options before deciding.”
“I don’t like agreeing with Crow,” Rebecca said, the cards swishing in her fingers, “but I don’t see the point either. What could possibly top exposing Billings?”
“Our objective is to neutralize his influence, not to bring him down in disgrace.”
“W-what?!” Rebecca sputtered, her hands jettisoning the deck. The cards pattered against the hardwood table as they sprayed out.
While the flurry of cards settled, Cassidy held her ground, her arms behind her back. “I’m not suggesting we go easy on him. Still, we can offer him the chance to confess and make a deal.”
“Why should he get off so easily?! He’s made a career out of belittling others! He deserves to know what it feels like to be humiliated.”
Cassidy chomped on the inside of her cheek as her thoughts rewound to the first time she met their client, Maria Romano.
A cocktail of scents – the sting of spilled alcohol, the tang of sweat, the mustiness of old concrete – assaulted Cassidy when she arrived at the warehouse turned night club.
A haze of colorful neon lights bathed the cavernous space, casting strange, shifting shadows. The reds, blues, and purples fractured through a suspended glass ball at the center, casting a kaleidoscope of lights across the grimy brick walls and rows of mismatched furniture. It was like stepping into an otherworldly realm, its ambiance as intoxicating as the drinks being served at the makeshift bar that lined a wall on the far right.
People milled about, some huddled in groups at graffiti-laden tables, others on worn-out leather couches. A cacophony of electronic music, played by a DJ on an elevated stage, drowned out their voices.
While Cassidy wouldn’t step foot in such a locale under normal circumstances, she blended in with the clubgoers with the punk persona she had designed months ago. A black wig fell to her neck, the ends tinged blonde, while gray contacts muted her green eyes. A dark band tee, leather jacket, pre-ripped pair of black jeans, and bright-white sneakers completed the disguise.
Locating the newest lamb Lilah had sold her wasn’t too difficult.
Maria’s dark hair, cut into an asymmetrical bob, was streaked with strands of electric blue that matched the tattoos peeking out from under the cuffs of her jacket. Her silver nose ring glinted in the neon glow while her clothes – a plain black t-shirt, ripped jeans, and worn-out combat boots – broadcasted her casual defiance.
The two met, exchanged communication codes, and retreated to an old shipping container repurposed into a secluded booth. Once alone, Maria requested her target, Dr. Landon Billings.
“Why him?” Cassidy asked.
Maria took a deep breath.
"When I was younger, I had... troubles. Acting out, getting mixed up with the wrong crowd, experimenting with drugs – I was spiraling." She paused and swallowed hard. "…My home life was a mess. My parents were always fighting. And when they weren't fighting with each other, they were fighting me. They didn’t know how to handle me, so they decided to get me ‘help.’ So, they reached out to Dr. Billings’ show.”
Her gaze dropped to her fidgeting hands.
"He made a spectacle of me,” she said, “in front of an audience and thousands of viewers. His show… it’s nothing more than a glitzy cage. He presents himself as this ‘fatherly figure,’ but all he does is tear people apart. He paraded me in front of an audience and painted me as the problem child while he played the saint. The next thing I knew, I was shipped off to a ranch, a supposed therapeutic facility.”
Cassidy’s brow furrowed as Maria clenched her hands. Her knuckles whitened under the strain.
“That place was a nightmare. They'd starve us, deprive us of sleep. If you refused to work or follow orders, they'd... they'd..." She choked on her words, a shudder passing through her. “I saw a kid get beaten just because he didn't have the energy to do the work. That place was a hellhole in the guise of ‘tough love.’ We were just kids! We needed guidance, understanding… not torture.”
Her eyes smoldered as the word “torture” fell from her lips.
“The place has been shut down,” she said, “but he wormed his way out of any trouble. Said he ‘wasn’t involved’ in any of it. But he was! He recommended it! He made money off naming them over and over! That’s all that matters to him! His money and his image!”
She unclenched her fists and met Cassidy’s gaze. “He exploited us, and he’s exploited so many others for his own gain. I want him stopped. I don’t want to stand by and watch as he destroys more lives. But…”
The drumbeat of the club music throbbed, shaking the shipping container as Maria gathered her words.
“…I can’t do this alone. I’ve tried. Nothing sticks to him. Nobody listens. Nobody cares.”
A churning discomfort settled in Cassidy’s chest. Maria checked all the boxes for a client based on the surface evaluation. Nevertheless, she maintained a mask of impassiveness. “I cannot make any commitments or promises yet. More information, particularly about Dr. Billings, is necessary before proceeding.”
Maria dipped her head and squeezed her eyes shut.
“With that in mind,” Cassidy continued, “I will commence an investigation and inform you of the results in due course.”
With a tentative rise of her chin, Maria opened her eyes. They gleamed with a fresh infusion of hope.
Cassidy's heart drummed a swift, rapid beat against her ribcage. Becca was right; Billings deserved to suffer. After all, he had harmed so many. Maria was one of many stories, one of the many exploited and sensationalized by him. Stopping him wasn’t enough. He deserved to have a taste of his own medicine. And she could serve it to him. Or at least, she could if she could justify it to her grandfather. So long as he scrutinized her every move, she couldn’t let loose.
“We can end his actions without indulging in cruelty,” Cassidy said, “so we should.”
“What’s the plan if he decides to play hardball?” Crow asked.
“If he resists, we’ll strike with everything we have.”
Wynn tapped his finger on the table. “Let’s give it a shot. It’s not like we have anything to lose.”
“I agree with Cassidy’s reasoning as well,” Edan said. “Justice must be served, but it should not be tinged with the desire for retaliation. Acts of malice are more commonly committed in the name of justice than in the name of evil.”
A harshness gripped and gnawed at Cassidy’s throat.
“Eh,” Crow said, “justice is just a buzzword people throw around to justify themselves. Still, I’ll tag along. Not like I have anything better to do.”
“Ugh, fine.” Rebecca crossed her arms and slumped back in her chair. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Apologies, Becca, Cassidy thought. Once they were alone, she’d make things right.
“Great,” Crow said as he rose, “glad we’re all on board with the plan. Anything else you wanna throw in, or can I hit the road?”
“There is another matter that must be addressed before we depart,” Cassidy said. “Gianna’s flash drive has some juicy intel on individuals beyond Dr. Billings. We can use this to our advantage, choosing who to expose and who to blackmail.”
Crow scratched at his brownish beard as his forehead creased. “We splitting the spoils evenly, or…?”
“Forty percent of the funds will go towards the crew’s budget, and another 40% will be channeled to charity. I'm open to suggestions if you have any for a cause. I’m currently focused on the food bank ‘Table of Plenty’ and the ‘HavenHeart’ shelters. As for the rest, Becca and you can split it.”
“Wait,” Rebecca said, “why isn’t everyone getting a piece?”
“I’m already being paid for my services as Cass’s bodyguard,” Wynn said.
“And I have no need nor desire for such gains,” Edan said. “Besides, I’m not a member of this gang. I’m merely supervising.”
Rebecca’s lips narrowed into a tight seam. “But what if someone notices the extra money in my account?”
“If anyone questions your newfound wealth,” Cassidy said, “you can simply say that it’s a gift from your generous girlfriend.”
“I can’t do that. Our relationship is private, remember? And even if it wasn’t, I don’t want people to think I’m a parasite.”
“We don’t have to reveal the exact nature of our relationship. Regardless, why are you so concerned about what others think?”
“I just don’t want to be labeled as someone who takes advantage of others. It gets me thinking about Andrea and, well…”
The name “Andrea” scraped at Cassidy’s composure. Four years had passed, and yet that name continued to resurface. Why couldn’t Becca just leave her buried in the past?
“Hold up,” Crow said. “Who’s Andrea?”
“An insignificant figure from my past,” Cassidy said. “She’s not worth mentioning.”
“Right,” Crow said. “She’s not worth mentioning, but she’s getting mentioned anyway. Makes perfect sense.”
Cassidy twisted her gaze back to Rebecca. “Let’s think of a new excuse to justify your sudden wealth.”
“Oh, I see,” Crow said. “So I’m just talking to the wind now. Great, just great.”
“We don’t have to stress about making a new story,” Rebecca said. “Why don’t you just donate my money too?”
“You deserve compensation,” Cassidy said. “Time is a valuable resource, and you’re spending it as a thief instead of a magician right now.”
“Cassie, I don’t want to take a cut. Just donate the whole thing.”
Tension anchored itself in Cassidy’s jaw. Why did Becca have to dig her heels in over something so trivial?
“If she doesn’t want free money,” Crow said, “I’ll gladly take it off your hands.”
This can wait until later. In the meantime, she’d divert the money to a secret holding. Once some time had passed and Becca’s stubbornness faded, she would come to appreciate the decision. “Very well, Becca. Your portion will be included in the total sum of the donation.”
“Perfect!” A look of relief washed over her, softening her supple features and brightening her eyes. “Thank you!”
Cassidy’s heart thumped. Even though Becca could sometimes be daft, she wouldn’t trade her for anything. The headaches were a small price to pay. “Now then, let’s start planning our targets. I’ve compiled all the relevant information into the presentation.”
An hour or so passed as the crew scanned through target after target, crime after crime. Once each person was assigned a judgment to be carried out later, the crew disembarked. Crow unhooked his speedboat and departed the yacht while the crew returned to shore, where they split up. Edan took his car back to Cain Manor while Wynn, Cassidy, and Rebecca headed to Mini Chul, the Himitus district where Rebecca lived.
Cassidy’s sedan rolled over the cobblestone street; each stone bathed in the gentle glow from the lanterns that swayed overhead like ruby-hued stars. The air was a mosaic of spice-laden aromas, each a taste of the distant land of Shishuchul, while vibrant, colorful murals painted on buildings provided a one-of-a-kind visual flair to the district.
“Looks like it’s time for me to go,” Rebecca said as they parked in the lot beside her apartment, a brick three-story building positioned above a bar. “Hit me up if anything urgent comes up.”
“Becca, hold on a moment.” Cassidy unhooked her seatbelt as she glanced at Wynn. “I’m staying here for the night. Head back without me.”
