The Mafia Queen (IC)

[Infected Mushroom]

The Office

Steve's office was large and comfortable, as befitting a politician of his ranking. Senators held a great deal of prestige and power in the USA, at least on the surface.

Steve was about to sit down when suddenly there came a very loud knock at the door.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Steve turned around, confused.

The door opened and a person stood before Steve. The newcomer had a brazen, very obnoxious-looking expression on his face. Steve had never seen this man before. The intruder had light brown-curly hair and a very large nose, beady little eyes. The man was dressed in a grey suit and he had a blood red tie, clean polished leather Italian shoes.

Who the hell was he? And who let this guy in?

"Senator Johnson," he said in a slick and oily voice. "May I come in? Of course I can."

Rather rudely, he strolled in and took a seat facing the Senator's desk... even before Johnson himself had sat down in his own office. He had a look on his face that said he was used to being obeyed. He waved a hand, as if telling Steve to sit down in his own office.

"Come now... let's get the Gucci Talk started," he said slickly.

Senator Johnson's Office
Steve was Suprised by the guest to be sure. His staff wouldn't arrive in DC Until after the weekend and there was nothing scheduled. "Yes I'm Senator Johnson, how may I help you?" He asked with curiosity. Steve knew there was a silent alarm switch under his desk in case he needed assistance. "I must say, I wasn't expecting guests until at least the end of the week. My staff isn't expected to start arriving until this afternoon, but I assure you I'm available to help Mr.?" Steve paused unaware of the man's name.

“I’m part of the Special Club,” he replied simply and glibly. “I doubt names are necessary. By the way they won’t come. We own most of this building anyways. Bought and paid for.”

He clicked his tongue and gestures towards the desk where he had noted Steve’s action to call security.

“Cause I’m a Club member.”

The Special Club/Club member... it was euphemism around the capital for mob membership.

All of a sudden it was becoming clear to Steve or rather, he had suspicions now. Of course the clean grey suit, the red tie, the leather shoes, the obnoxious cockiness from the intruder... it all made sense now. He was Mafia.

“Now look Steve, I think you and I can work together. And we can both benefit. What do you say?”

His greedy eyes scanned the room. “You just moved in? It’s a shame. I was hoping for a pic of the wife.”

It was becoming increasingly clear that the intruder was kind of a creep...

He cleared his throat.

“Uh hum anyways... there’s a bill regarding the Indians coming out. In a few days. You know what I’m talking about. Let’s consider it a loyalty test. You were going to vote against it... now vote for it.”

The mobster was referring to the hotly debated amendment to the Indian Citizenship Act in both houses of Congress. The Democrats mostly wanted to massively expand the scope of its benefits. The Republicans were mostly concerned that it wasn’t sufficiently regulated and there could be loopholes. There were also lots of suspicious add-on provisions.

“Vote for it instead of against. You do that, and good things will happen. How about it?”

He allowed himself a cruel sneer.

[Christian Confederation]

Senator Johnson's Office
Steve was Suprised by the guest to be sure. His staff wouldn't arrive in DC Until after the weekend and there was nothing scheduled. "Yes I'm Senator Johnson, how may I help you?" He asked with curiosity. Steve knew there was a silent alarm switch under his desk in case he needed assistance. "I must say, I wasn't expecting guests until at least the end of the week. My staff isn't expected to start arriving until this afternoon, but I assure you I'm available to help Mr.?" Steve paused unaware of the man's name.

“I’m part of the Special Club,” he replied simply and glibly. “I doubt names are necessary. By the way they won’t come. We own most of this building anyways. Bought and paid for.”

He clicked his tongue and gestures towards the desk where he had noted Steve’s action to call security.

“Cause I’m a Club member.”

The Special Club/Club member... it was euphemism around the capital for mob membership.

All of a sudden it was becoming clear to Steve or rather, he had suspicions now. Of course the clean grey suit, the red tie, the leather shoes, the obnoxious cockiness from the intruder... it all made sense now. He was Mafia.

“Now look Steve, I think you and I can work together. And we can both benefit. What do you say?”

His greedy eyes scanned the room. “You just moved in? It’s a shame. I was hoping for a pic of the wife.”

It was becoming increasingly clear that the intruder was kind of a creep...

He cleared his throat.

“Uh hum anyways... there’s a bill regarding the Indians coming out. In a few days. You know what I’m talking about. Let’s consider it a loyalty test. You were going to vote against it... now vote for it.”

The mobster was referring to the hotly debated amendment to the Indian Citizenship Act in both houses of Congress. The Democrats mostly wanted to massively expand the scope of its benefits. The Republicans were mostly concerned that it wasn’t sufficiently regulated and there could be loopholes. There were also lots of suspicious add-on provisions.

“Vote for it instead of against. You do that, and good things will happen. How about it?”

He allowed himself a cruel sneer.

Senator Johnson's Office
Steve had heard the rumors, that some massive Cabal of Gangsters and Industrialists ran the country. Now he was here with a gangster in front of him. "My Grandfather's Grandfather grew up on the reservation in Oklahoma, the bill had my support until I read it. They tacked on all kinds of stuff I could never support." Steve explained. "I'm going to bring up my concerns tomorrow in committee. If I'm lucky we can get the Indian Citizenship Act back to annexing the Indian Reservations into the Country." Steve told the gangster. "As for your little club I can't join until I know more about it."

[Kaledoria]

-

[CoraSpia]

George

George waited and listened to the discussion about how to get into the vault, seeing no reason to get involved. They were still discussing it an hour and a half later when he finally spoke up; he was getting a bit bored.
"There are two ways we can try and get in," he explained, "The first is using that thing which looks like a manhole cover, which involves dodging mines and being exactly where they'd expect you to be. The second involves using that shed...which really is owned by a local horticultural society by the way, they won't sell that patch of land up for any money. The advantage of the shed as compared to the manhole cover is that they don't know the entrance is there, I know exactly who opened it, it opens into storage and they won't expect intruders in that direction. Which does everyone fanby?"

[Kaledoria]

George

George waited and listened to the discussion about how to get into the vault, seeing no reason to get involved. They were still discussing it an hour and a half later when he finally spoke up; he was getting a bit bored.
"There are two ways we can try and get in," he explained, "The first is using that thing which looks like a manhole cover, which involves dodging mines and being exactly where they'd expect you to be. The second involves using that shed...which really is owned by a local horticultural society by the way, they won't sell that patch of land up for any money. The advantage of the shed as compared to the manhole cover is that they don't know the entrance is there, I know exactly who opened it, it opens into storage and they won't expect intruders in that direction. Which does everyone fanby?"

Lorelei, in the van

"I am surprised that the Mafia did not fall back to other means, when they were unable to acquire that patch with money alone. I guess you had a part in discouraging that?" Lorelei said, "Hm, in through the backdoor like VIPs to a party - the VIPs that we are! I like it. Also, I had hoped to help you remotely but I'm not sure how deep our signals can reach underground, so even though I'm not a fighter, I fear, I will have to accompany you."

Lorelei, back in New York

Lorelei returned from her trip.
Given that she had some downtime, she decided tto take another look at the revenge funds offering bounties for the mafia queen's head.
To be extra sure, she took her laptop around town, and hacked into a poorly secured wlan somewhere. Even though she properly concealed her access point on any trip into the net, the best safety measure was to never hack from home.

Her first impression had been good, at least as far as the first four sides were concerned. They did not offer much information besides the obvious: Provide proof that you killed the target and an anonymous wallet or old-school numbered bank account and after a verification, you could get the bounty.

Overall, there were initially 12 such funds but two were already unreachable.
The next bounty-side on her list was special. Not for the sum, a mere 250,000$, but for the fact, that it did not meet the strict security level the other sides had. After trying out some exploits, Lorelei found a clearweb address (and thus the IP) of the server. She was on some web-host in Montevideo, Uruguay. This should not even be possible... The hacker looked further around, analyzed the back-end of the site. She found the bot that took any submission, gathered news sites and sent it then to an "authenticator" for manual approval. While the "authenticator" remained anonymous, Lorelei wondered, whether she could fake the authentication and make the site believe, she killed Aurora and should be awarded the bounty.

"This is to easy," she thought and listed the active processes on the server. And she found a suspicious one, a remote process, coming from somewhere in Russia. Lorelei traced it and hit a firewall. After unleashing her more aggressive programs on it, she found a way to tunnel a Trojan through, that let her in from the other side. She looked around, she was on some kind of observer post, that logged everything that happened on the Montevideo server. She erased all traces of herself and looked deeper. The file system looked unsuspicious, no remote processes either. Out of a hunch Lorelei started a longer file action and then ran an exploit that would cause a small hard-drive disruption. But there was no reaction in the file action. "Damn, a virtual machine," she concluded. She could not find the exit, so she started new sessions on other remote servers and send trackers to the Russian observer post. The trackers saved every reroute they passed and when Lorelei finally opened them at the target she compared them and the first common proxy they all had in common was the actual physical machine. Lorelei logged onto it. She looked around and saw a couple of further folders and programs, including backups from the observer post. She once again deleted the records of her actions on the server in Uruguay and checked out the architecture. It obviously was a custom system...

Suddenly, everything started to vanish. Hidden, deleted or moved somewhere else, Lorelei could not tell. She grabbed the next best file that looked like some tool and drew herself a copy, before it vanished, too. She decompiled the program and looked into it. It was neatly written and quite elegant. The variable names on the other hand were immature at best and vulgar at worst. Finally Lorelei was surprised to find a comment. Surprised because in the process of compilation and decompilation any comments were supposed to get lost, so whoever wrote the program must have marked it to be taken into the code's debug info just in case someone else decompiles it. The comment was just one word: "Invincible". The elaborate design, the immature variables, the comment - it kind of felt familiar to Lorelei, she just could not pinpoint it...

The content of the host had vanished but whoever did this had made sure not to delete the operation system, to keep it running. A new file appeared on the server, it was a tiny, secure chat program. It invited Lorelei in. <Janus: Hello, Ozymandia.> Lorelei had only used that handle for a few years, the last time back in 2016. It clicked in her head and she realized, who she was dealing with. Setting hew username to the old handle, she answered. <Ozymandia: Hello, smiling Bandit. Long time no see.>

[Infected Mushroom]

“I’m part of the Special Club,” he replied simply and glibly. “I doubt names are necessary. By the way they won’t come. We own most of this building anyways. Bought and paid for.”

He clicked his tongue and gestures towards the desk where he had noted Steve’s action to call security.

“Cause I’m a Club member.”

The Special Club/Club member... it was euphemism around the capital for mob membership.

All of a sudden it was becoming clear to Steve or rather, he had suspicions now. Of course the clean grey suit, the red tie, the leather shoes, the obnoxious cockiness from the intruder... it all made sense now. He was Mafia.

“Now look Steve, I think you and I can work together. And we can both benefit. What do you say?”

His greedy eyes scanned the room. “You just moved in? It’s a shame. I was hoping for a pic of the wife.”

It was becoming increasingly clear that the intruder was kind of a creep...

He cleared his throat.

“Uh hum anyways... there’s a bill regarding the Indians coming out. In a few days. You know what I’m talking about. Let’s consider it a loyalty test. You were going to vote against it... now vote for it.”

The mobster was referring to the hotly debated amendment to the Indian Citizenship Act in both houses of Congress. The Democrats mostly wanted to massively expand the scope of its benefits. The Republicans were mostly concerned that it wasn’t sufficiently regulated and there could be loopholes. There were also lots of suspicious add-on provisions.

“Vote for it instead of against. You do that, and good things will happen. How about it?”

He allowed himself a cruel sneer.

Senator Johnson's Office
Steve had heard the rumors, that some massive Cabal of Gangsters and Industrialists ran the country. Now he was here with a gangster in front of him. "My Grandfather's Grandfather grew up on the reservation in Oklahoma, the bill had my support until I read it. They tacked on all kinds of stuff I could never support." Steve explained. "I'm going to bring up my concerns tomorrow in committee. If I'm lucky we can get the Indian Citizenship Act back to annexing the Indian Reservations into the Country." Steve told the gangster. "As for your little club I can't join until I know more about it."

Senator Johnson's Office

"We ain't recruiting," the mobster said plainly. "If you want to join there's a couple oh conditions ya gotta meet. In most cases, you'd have to be Italian, at least in part. Still... there's HUGE upswings to being friends with my bosses... and HUGE downswings if my bosses don't like you... if you know what I mean."

He bent down and took out a cigarette and popped it between his ugly teeth. Without waiting for any confirmation for whether there was a No Smoking rule or not, he took out a silver lighter and lit the thing. He took a sickening intake before exhaling, filling up a considerable chunk of the room with smoke.

"Anyways as I was saying," he said, smoking while ruffling some of his brown hair back. "I reckon you'll vote Yes. Oh and one more thing... you can give or take as many add-on provisions as you like however... leave those hmmm... gambling and environmental provisions alone."

The gangster was of course, referring to the suspicious add-ons (which a strange coalition of Senators from the New England had forced into the version being debated and presented as of now) at the end, which would give the federal government large, constitutionally questionable powers to further control gambling on the reservations and channel large numbers of funds to shady businesses. The environmental provisions were also very strange... as they introduced a huge private sector element into the waste disposal policies of the reservations and certain nearby industries.

"See my bosses, they like those gambling and environmental reg provisions. Everything else, PHHHH... you can trade like chicken. I don't much care. If you work with us, things will look good for you... REALLY good if you get my gist."

[Infected Mushroom]

George

George waited and listened to the discussion about how to get into the vault, seeing no reason to get involved. They were still discussing it an hour and a half later when he finally spoke up; he was getting a bit bored.
"There are two ways we can try and get in," he explained, "The first is using that thing which looks like a manhole cover, which involves dodging mines and being exactly where they'd expect you to be. The second involves using that shed...which really is owned by a local horticultural society by the way, they won't sell that patch of land up for any money. The advantage of the shed as compared to the manhole cover is that they don't know the entrance is there, I know exactly who opened it, it opens into storage and they won't expect intruders in that direction. Which does everyone fanby?"

The RV

Shiroi Kasamoto

“I vote for the shed,” she said dryly... just before Lorelei spoke up.

Tom nodded as well.

[Christian Confederation]

Senator Johnson's Office
Steve had heard the rumors, that some massive Cabal of Gangsters and Industrialists ran the country. Now he was here with a gangster in front of him. "My Grandfather's Grandfather grew up on the reservation in Oklahoma, the bill had my support until I read it. They tacked on all kinds of stuff I could never support." Steve explained. "I'm going to bring up my concerns tomorrow in committee. If I'm lucky we can get the Indian Citizenship Act back to annexing the Indian Reservations into the Country." Steve told the gangster. "As for your little club I can't join until I know more about it."

Senator Johnson's Office

"We ain't recruiting," the mobster said plainly. "If you want to join there's a couple oh conditions ya gotta meet. In most cases, you'd have to be Italian, at least in part. Still... there's HUGE upswings to being friends with my bosses... and HUGE downswings if my bosses don't like you... if you know what I mean."

He bent down and took out a cigarette and popped it between his ugly teeth. Without waiting for any confirmation for whether there was a No Smoking rule or not, he took out a silver lighter and lit the thing. He took a sickening intake before exhaling, filling up a considerable chunk of the room with smoke.

"Anyways as I was saying," he said, smoking while ruffling some of his brown hair back. "I reckon you'll vote Yes. Oh and one more thing... you can give or take as many add-on provisions as you like however... leave those hmmm... gambling and environmental provisions alone."

The gangster was of course, referring to the suspicious add-ons (which a strange coalition of Senators from the New England had forced into the version being debated and presented as of now) at the end, which would give the federal government large, constitutionally questionable powers to further control gambling on the reservations and channel large numbers of funds to shady businesses. The environmental provisions were also very strange... as they introduced a huge private sector element into the waste disposal policies of the reservations and certain nearby industries.

"See my bosses, they like those gambling and environmental reg provisions. Everything else, PHHHH... you can trade like chicken. I don't much care. If you work with us, things will look good for you... REALLY good if you get my gist."

"If your boss wants these laws passed I suggest it be voted on separately. Omnibus bills are never good." Steve explained. "As of now you have my support, if nothing else is tacked on you have yourself a vote." Steve lied hoping to get the guy to leave. "I'm very busy today, so I must sadly cut this short." John said getting up from his desk.

[Infected Mushroom]

Senator Johnson's Office

"We ain't recruiting," the mobster said plainly. "If you want to join there's a couple oh conditions ya gotta meet. In most cases, you'd have to be Italian, at least in part. Still... there's HUGE upswings to being friends with my bosses... and HUGE downswings if my bosses don't like you... if you know what I mean."

He bent down and took out a cigarette and popped it between his ugly teeth. Without waiting for any confirmation for whether there was a No Smoking rule or not, he took out a silver lighter and lit the thing. He took a sickening intake before exhaling, filling up a considerable chunk of the room with smoke.

"Anyways as I was saying," he said, smoking while ruffling some of his brown hair back. "I reckon you'll vote Yes. Oh and one more thing... you can give or take as many add-on provisions as you like however... leave those hmmm... gambling and environmental provisions alone."

The gangster was of course, referring to the suspicious add-ons (which a strange coalition of Senators from the New England had forced into the version being debated and presented as of now) at the end, which would give the federal government large, constitutionally questionable powers to further control gambling on the reservations and channel large numbers of funds to shady businesses. The environmental provisions were also very strange... as they introduced a huge private sector element into the waste disposal policies of the reservations and certain nearby industries.

"See my bosses, they like those gambling and environmental reg provisions. Everything else, PHHHH... you can trade like chicken. I don't much care. If you work with us, things will look good for you... REALLY good if you get my gist."

"If your boss wants these laws passed I suggest it be voted on separately. Omnibus bills are never good." Steve explained. "As of now you have my support, if nothing else is tacked on you have yourself a vote." Steve lied hoping to get the guy to leave. "I'm very busy today, so I must sadly cut this short." John said getting up from his desk.

Senator Johnson's Office

"Hmmmm very well then," the gangster said, smirking and taking another big inhale of the cigarette, shooting out a further ring of smoke from his mouth. "I know you'll do the right thing. I know you will."

He stood up and nodded. Then he turned around and left, closing the door behind him.

Later on throughout the day, though Steve Johnson might inquire about the man, somehow... almost INEXPLICABLY... no one knew about him. In fact, somehow, people would even deny he was in the building at all. It was all a bit surreal.

[Nagakawa]

Washington D.C.

'The Queen B!tch'
8:55PM

"We're his constituents, actually", Jesse explained. "We all grew up in the same neighbourhood, which is how he got to know us. I mean, he's been my representative for as long as I can remember, so..."

Leonie kicked back and downed the remaining few drops of orange juice in her cup.

"And how about you? How'd Joe get to know you?"

"Hold up a sec." Erwin took out his phone, which was buzzing with an incoming call from Joe Langley himself. Picking up the call, Erwin listened in for a bit, before setting the phone to speaker mode.

"I can't talk much now, so just listen. I'm being followed by some guy with a katana. I think he might be a mafia guy.

"Mhmm." Leonie looked up at Erwin and Zach and nodded knowingly.

"So here's what I'm gonna do. I'm luring him over to the Queen B!tch. You guys get ready for a fight. If Zach's there, get him to help out. Cheers."

The moment the phone hung up, Erwin got up quickly and went to the back of the bar to speak to the bartender, leaving his phone behind with Leonie and Jesse. It was as if the atmosphere in the bar had suddenly become heavier, in anticipation for whatever it was that was coming.

"You heard the man", said Leonie to Zach, with a wink. "We can talk more later."

[Kaledoria]

Lorelei touched her left shoulder, a picture of a tesseract, by now worked into a greater Tron-esque tattoo.

Lorelei
Rio Hotel & Casino, Paradise, Nevada
August 3rd, 2013

DEF CON 21 was the shit. Since last year, Lorelei had refined her skills. She was no longer the rookie hacker, promising but inexperienced, that she had been last Con. This year, she was among the Elite. For the grand hacking competition of the Gibson Supercomputer, that the organizers had rented, she had teamed up with a guy named "The Smiling Bandit" She had personally picked him out after witnessing his skills online.

Had she known Boris personally, she would have picked differently. He was an arrogant creep. He willingly accepted her into "his" team, as the rules of the challenge required applications by teams of two but when they sat down to talk strategy, he insisted, that he could do that on his own better that any team of other hackers and she could best make herself useful by giving him a nice back-rub, while they were winning.

Lorelei disagreed. As the event started, she focused not on the machine, but on her teammate. It was rather simple to follow his tracks, as he spend no time covering them. In his wake, she cleaned up, in order to not have the two of them thrown out by the computer's security systems. Since he was not cooperating, she could have just as easily been a member of another hacking team and could have followed him just to overtake him in the last seconds, so beyond keeping them concealed against the host, Lorelei also made sure the other teams were unable to do the same, that she was doing.

With Boris breaking one layer of defense after another and Lorelei cleaning up his mess and covering his tracks, they managed to get the files in a top time. When they stood up, the initial reaction of the other teams was "You guys giving up?" followed by utter disbelieve when they announced, that they had finished. It was a great, fun event, even though Boris not once admitted, that Lorelei's help was substantial. She did not really care or even sought him out at the after-party that evening. She might have never though of it again.

Lorelei
Physically in her car in some back-alley in NY, but connected to some strange server where she is chatting with Boris, again.
Today

<Janus: Nice, how you spotted the virtual machine, but seriously, sweet cheeks you have no business being here at all - or on the Uruguay server for that matter.>

Lorelei knew that Boris liked to hear - or read - himself talking and sensed that probing him a bit might be useful.
<Ozymandia: You know me. I'm all for freedom of information and was just curious.>
<Janus: You keep your little nose out of this big boy business! I swear, if you try to spill the tea on this, YOU ARE DEAD. This is not a threat, it's a fact. That you are here means you know, who Matteo was and who Aurora is. So fuck freedom of information!>
<Ozymandia: Hey, I was just kidding. I saw 250k and could really use the money and I thought, I could probably cheat this authentication. But now that I know it's your tool, I'm off, no reminder needed.>
<Janus: Not just this one. Keep your nose out of Mafia business. Best stay out of hacking at all. They don't like freelance criminals any more then the cops and don't care about burden of proof, you understand? This is your only warning!>
<Ozymandia: Understood. Take care of yourself, Bandit.> Lorelei faked empathy and logged out.

Before closing her laptop, she went to the penultimate proxy she used to conceal her access point. If Boris was a two-faced as his new handle suggested, he might just try to locate her despite saying that he let her get away with a warning. And even if she'd be three blocks away when he got to that W-lan access point, she leeched of some poor sods with no tech skills, it was better, if Janus did not know she was in New York at all. She wiped the proxy clean. Somewhere in Switzerland, an IT-department freaked out about a vicious cyber attack, but this way, Boris tracers would stop there.

She drove back home, thinking about the elaborate setup of fake servers. She concluded, that it was a trap not for her but for other Mafia-Goons and maybe possible applicants. Bandit must have spotted the weak security on this revenge fund but instead of nuking it he turned it into his puppet, logging and tracking down the identities of anyone who even looked at the page and if the same names showed up somewhere in Aurora's chain of command, the curious mafiosi would probably be made subject to some loyalty test ... or more likely be killed just based on the suspicion.

In either case, now that Lorelei knew, that Boris was working with the Mafia - and that the last years had not caused his skills to rust - she knew she had to treat extra carefully.

[Christian Confederation]

"If your boss wants these laws passed I suggest it be voted on separately. Omnibus bills are never good." Steve explained. "As of now you have my support, if nothing else is tacked on you have yourself a vote." Steve lied hoping to get the guy to leave. "I'm very busy today, so I must sadly cut this short." John said getting up from his desk.

Senator Johnson's Office

"Hmmmm very well then," the gangster said, smirking and taking another big inhale of the cigarette, shooting out a further ring of smoke from his mouth. "I know you'll do the right thing. I know you will."

He stood up and nodded. Then he turned around and left, closing the door behind him.

Later on throughout the day, though Steve Johnson might inquire about the man, somehow... almost INEXPLICABLY... no one knew about him. In fact, somehow, people would even deny he was in the building at all. It was all a bit surreal.

The Law
Steve was still a little confused. But he decided to get to work. The 2nd amendment had been infringed in recent years and John was prepared to reverse it.
Protection and Expansion of the Second Amendment Act
-The Congress will not infringe on the People's Right to bear arms.
-Fire Arm safety classes will be provided along side Drivers and Sex Education.
-Upon competing the Course The Student will receive there firearms license and be eligible for a Government assisted purchase of the firearm.
-Establish a Department of Firearms under the ATF.
- Provide Nation Wide mental Health checks.
- Allow Open/ Concealed Carry on all government Property.

[Infected Mushroom]

Aboard the Dracula III
Approaching the Washington DC Airspace

Vladislav Kalvin

A large, strangely-named, Bombardier Global Express jet was in the air. This one was coated with black paint and it's engine had been modified so it could go even faster than the standard Mach 0.80. The allegedly corporate aircraft could carry 16 people in the comfortable passenger areas but as of now... there were only two individuals in the back:

The eccentric young millionaire Vladislav Calvin and his butler Remy Dubois.

The two pilots were in the front and out of earshot.

Presently Vladislav and Remy were seated facing each other by comfortable window panels in plush red chairs.

The Dracula III? Yes, that's the name he went with.

The young Vladislav wore a simple red T shirt and jeans; he had a short, very muscular stocky build. He had a tall nose, light blue eyes and his silver-blonde hair which he kept in short wavy form. He had a very pale complexion. Vladislav had a laptop out in front of him; carefully placed next to it was a large glass of red wine.

Remy Dubois was a tall and thin brown-haired man in a black and white butler suit with a moustache. He was in his late 40s.

DC is a dull city...

"What's my schedule again?" Vladislav asked, looking up.

Somehow Remy had it memorised, but for good measure he was still looking through a stack of documents before him.

"Sir," he said. "You've been signed up for a number of private tours. It's all been set in a logical order."

"Bloody tours?" Vladislav said. "Well I do hope I'm not completely tied up am I? Couldn't I just go with the whole investor meetings thing?"

"Well of course there are gaps to allow for your other activities but as we've previously discussed sir, the whole meeting with investors thing can only go so far before arousing suspicion."

"So what... the White House?"

"Day 1 is naturally going to be the White House, the National Mall, the Washington Memorial and the Lincoln Memorial. Such is the logical first step for all touristic individuals. Day 2 is a little more flexible, you've got the Vietnam-"

"Well you DO make me out to be SUCH a bore," Vladislav protested. "Doesn't it seem a bit out of character for me to going on SO MANY private tours all of a sudden? I mean what happened to the whole, "Young Vlad goes where he wants" schtick?" ... Wait. YOU WANT TO SEE THESE THINGS TOO EH?!"

"Well that's not entirely the point sir. As you know, the media's been on your case a bit lately since the last party, and so if you're going to come to DC, it MUST be made entirely credible. Here. You've also got a copy of it in your email, it's probably buried in the March."

He handed Vladislav an itinerary on paper from his stack of papers. Vladislav looked at the thing and his frown was growing by the second... he took a massive swig of the red wine.

"Oh... my lord..."

"Would you like another glass of the Chateaux sir?"

"Yes, absolutely... Thank you. And I'd like to have that cold plate as well."

"Yes sir."

The butler stood up and took the empty glass away to the cabin area. Once there, he started to prepare "the cold plate" which consisted of a selection of hams, cheese, and salami on a sizeable serving tray.

Meanwhile back in the passenger area, Vladislav was on the laptop, conversing with Tom Gabriels. A smile of satisfaction lit up on Vladislav's face for he had just received confirmation that the reconnaissance mission was a success.

Lorelei you sure made good use of my gold...How delightful.

He turned his attention to other matters. A large list of United Mafia profiles with photos began to pop out on his computer one by one.

Right... Since I'm going to be booked and be made to play between the lines of this tyrannical schedule... I'd best make the best use of every second. I have to make the trip worth it for Antihero.

---

A few hours later... Vladislav Kalvin stepped out of Laguardia Airport. Remy was by his side, carrying a large number of luggages on a rollable transport; the pilots walked along side them, very stony-faced. A large number of reporters approached.

Vladislav took a few steps but eventually stopped to address them.

"Mr. Kalvin, a few comments please- Is it true that you're here looking for investors for your e-commerce project?"

"Are you broke Mr. Kalvin?"

"Mr. Kalvin, did you come in a private aircraft-"

Vladislav raised a hand, a knowing smile on his face. There was a brief silence, allowing him to speak.

"I'm here on a leisurely trip, I've always wanted to see the capital of this great nation," he said cheerfully. "However... yes I do have a few business reasons as well. I do intend to see a number of private parties regarding a few investment opportunities. For various reasons, I'm not at liberty to say further; I wouldn't want to exert undue pressure. However... I'm a man of BALANCE. It wouldn't be right to see the capital without... TRULY seeing the capitol if you get my gist."

"Sir we're on the clock," Remy said, making a movement towards his watch.

"Now if you'll excuse me gentlemen... LADIES," he said as he pressed on.

The pilots began to form a wall between Vladislav and the reporters, as if creating and dragging a distance.

One of the reporters suddenly shouted out: "Mr. Vladislav do you have any comments about the allegations that your father may be in business with organised crime in Russia?"

For the briefest of moments, the reporters saw that there was a flash of traumatised terror on the young millionaire's face. But it was rapidly gone, washed away by a mask of confidence. Vladislav waved them away as he kept walking.

[Infected Mushroom]

Senator Johnson's Office

"Hmmmm very well then," the gangster said, smirking and taking another big inhale of the cigarette, shooting out a further ring of smoke from his mouth. "I know you'll do the right thing. I know you will."

He stood up and nodded. Then he turned around and left, closing the door behind him.

Later on throughout the day, though Steve Johnson might inquire about the man, somehow... almost INEXPLICABLY... no one knew about him. In fact, somehow, people would even deny he was in the building at all. It was all a bit surreal.

The Law
Steve was still a little confused. But he decided to get to work. The 2nd amendment had been infringed in recent years and John was prepared to reverse it.
Protection and Expansion of the Second Amendment Act
-The Congress will not infringe on the People's Right to bear arms.
-Fire Arm safety classes will be provided along side Drivers and Sex Education.
-Upon competing the Course The Student will receive there firearms license and be eligible for a Government assisted purchase of the firearm.
-Establish a Department of Firearms under the ATF.
- Provide Nation Wide mental Health checks.
- Allow Open/ Concealed Carry on all government Property.

Quatre Fromage
Washington DC

Arnold Griezmann

The Mafiosi, the very same one that had so brazenly strolled into Senator Johnson's office earlier, walked into the small shady pizzeria in a dark corner of DC. His name was Arnold Griezmann and he was one of the mob's less-than-savory individuals. His contact was waiting for him, high ranking mob captain Nicky Casterllano and his right hand, Tommy Pabari.

Arnold gave a courteous bow before he sat down to face the two men. The joint was almost completely unoccupied, except for the mobsters.

"I think the Senator got the message," Arnold said greasily.

"You sure?" Casterllano replied. "So he'll argue for the bill?"

"I reckon he will," Arnold said. "Are you sure I shouldn't also beat him-"

"Nope," Casterllano said. "The first time is just a test. We don't want to gun too hard. Let's see how he plays it. If he doesn't go for the bill, no harm no foul. We'll just press harder next time. You did well Arnold, you did well. Are your people following and tailing?"

"Every step of the way cap."

"GOOD. Now how about we get some food."

Tommy began to snap his fingers rudely as he shouted out: "WAITER! ... WAITER!"

[Christian Confederation]

The Senate Floor-Steve Johnson
Steve had spent all night working on his new law. Now he sat in the Senate Chamber ready to present the Law. "The Chair recognizes Senator Johnson of Texas has submitted a bill. Senator Johnson you have the floor." The Vice President said.
Steve got up to the podium and smiled. "Good morning ladies and Gentlemen, y'all must be thinking 'here goes the new guy, trying to be a big shot!' I assure you this bill was written to address a serious issue." Steve knew what he was about to do could be political suicide. "The 2nd amendment is being violated on the Local, State, and Federal levels of government. Some of our colleagues in this very room have approved legislation that have violated the constitution!" Steve declared. "The Protection and Expansion of the Second Amendment Act is designed to protect the right to bear arms granted to law abiding citizens. No responsible and honest citizen should have there rights infringed!" Steve said. "We all know nobody watches this excuse of a government, so I'll be going on Natasha Nightly to pitch my new legislation to the American people. You're eather with me and the constitution or your against the American people and Constitution!" Steve said. "As for the Omnibus Bill ya'll are attempting to pass, you don't have my vote until you cut out the crap that doesn't belong in the bill or you don't have my vote. Mr. Vice President, I yield back!" Steve said before leaving the chamber.

[Nagakawa]

Rep. Joseph A. Langley (D, CA-39)

Washington D.C.
Earlier that day

“Hello?”

“Joe, it’s me, Zeke. I-”

“Zeke who?“

“Ezekiel Rousey”, said the man over the phone. “I’m the newly-elected Representative for Cali’s 22nd District.”

“Ah! My apologies. I take a while to acclimate to abbreviated names.”

Joe Langley spent little time in his office. Following the meeting with the President about the the Supreme Court confirmation hearings in the morning, he’d made his way to a secluded café some distance away from the Capitol, where he sat in the backroom and had himself a leisurely lunch and a cup of coffee, away from the prying eyes of the press and the public.

“No worries, Joe. Can we start a video call?”

Joe gingery set up his laptop, closed the door to the backroom, and plugged his earphones in, before turning on his webcam. Zeke Rousey (R, CA-22) was a sprightly young man who’d barely turned 28 a month ago, with a cheeky grin and spiky, ashy-blonde hair. At the time of his election, he’d been one of the youngest newly-elected Representatives in the chamber.

“So how have things been for you? Your first few days in office, I mean.”

“I was, uh, actually just about to ask you about something.” Zeke’s face darkened. “Th-The Mafia... how many of us representatives are with them?”

“More than two thirds, I’d wager”, said Joe. “Republicans and Democrats alike. Party identity is irrelevant nowadays.”

“Yea, well, the reason I ask, is because there’s so many of these fucking guys just breathing down my neck.” Zeke became rather agitated, scratching his chin and clearly having trouble sitting still. “Like... I don’t even know how to describe it... you know what I mean, don’t you?”

Joe nodded knowingly.

“Anyway... yea, that’s the gist of it”, he added, after taking a few moments to calm down. “What happens now?”

“First of all, we’re not even in the same party. Party lines don’t mean shit these days, but we at least have to put up a bit of a front to make it seem like those of us who are in on the resistance still look like we’re preoccupied with party rivalry. I know you’re not actually interested in politics, but you have to at least look like you’re trying.”

“Well, uh, the Senate is voting on some new bills soon. There’s this new Senator from Texas who’s, uh, a bit of a Dixie, you know what I mean? Southern rights, that whole thing. He’s a little, uh...”

“I don’t really give a damn.” A waiter came into the backroom, bearing with him a cup of cappuccino and a plate of pasta. Joe muted the call until the waiter was gone, and then unmuted it and began eating while talking at the same time. “You know I don’t care about these things much, either. It’s all an act. If you wanna throw your weight behind him, feel free.”

“No, I mean, he actually wrote an entire bill on his own and, well, wants to bypass the House. And the Senate committees. Is he even allowed to do that? I don’t think that’s how Congress works. And I don’t actually know what his bill is about anyway, besides, uh, supporting the 2nd Amendment.”

“Zeke, you’ll soon learn... that the procedures don’t mean shit anymore”, Joe chuckled, taking a mouthful of fusilli coated thinly in pesto. “In the old days, we followed the process. Not anymore. Now it’s up to Senate Majority Leader Mark Couture. He’ll be the one to kill or pass any bills. And Leader Couture works for...”

“... the Mafia.”

“Bingo. You’re learning quickly.” In just five minutes, Joe had finished up his food, and was now preparing to leave. “So anyway, Zeke, I’m a little bit busy today- meeting with some new workers, that sort of thing. Tomorrow, I’ll fill you in on the plan regarding Lenny Yeager’s, uh, hearing. I’ll fill you in on the details. For now, just stay quiet and try to lay low.”

“Alright, got it.”

“You know, you’re free to join me tonight for drinks, if you like.”

“Nnnn... nah, I’m good. I don’t drink.“

“Alright then. See you tomorrow.”

“See ya.”

And with that, Joe slammed his laptop shut, tucked it back into his briefcase, and hastily made his way out of the café, sliding his payment in exact cash over the table as he went out.

...

[North Timeria]

"Well I actually just met him a few days ago... We have a mutual friend and I noticed who he was." As Zach explained the story Erwin received a call from Joe. He put the phone on speaker for the others to hear. Apparently, Joe was in trouble and he was leading the assailant to the bar to set a trap. Zach didn't really know what to expect so he grabbed an empty beer bottle and set up at another booth near the door.

"How long do you think before he gets here... I don't have a gun but if one of you do it'd be nice to have that ready."

Zach watched the door patiently as the other go ready. He hoped that there was only one guy and not an entire hit team. One trip to D.C. and things had already started to heat up. As he looked out he spotted what looked like Joe hurriedly moving towards the bar.

"I think he's coming in now! Get ready!" Zach said as he slid away from the door, just barely keeping an eye on who came in and out. He then switched his gaze over to Erwin for a moment and gave him a thumbs up.

[Christian Confederation]

Senator Johnson, The Tucker Hannity Show
It was now 8PM Eastern Time. Steve had caused an uproar in Congress. He had an old friend read over the law who okayed the constitutionality of his Act. Now he was on Tucker Hannity's TV show, one of the most watched Conservative News Programs in the country.

"We have a treat tonight Ladies and Gentlemen, the new kid on Capitol Hill. The man who's been making waves, Texas Senator Steve Johnson!" Tucker said. "It's good to be here Mr. Hannity." Steve said. "Please Senator call me Tucker, Your a friend Steve." Hannity said with a smile.

"So you made some waves today, Some people believe you violated the Congressional Procedures. How do you respond Senator?" Hannity asked. "My Colleagues have been violating Procedure for years Tucker. It's only fair I play the same game." Steve said.

"Your Absolutely right Senator, The Corrupt Deep State can't handle an honest man like you." Hannity said with his classic happy tone. "I'm just doing what's right Tucker. My Mama always said "One Honest man is worth a hundred Liars." I tend to live by that saying. I'm here for the people of Texas and the American people. I won't rest until our rights are restored." Steve announced with confidence.
"Now that's something I haven't heard since President Regan and Trump. You have a bright future Senator, keep this up and you could make it all the way to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue!" Hannity said. "That's the plan Tucker. But first I need to get my bill passed. I'm going home to get a good night's sleep, and first thing in the morning I'm going back to work to get Suport for the Protection and Expansion of the Second Amendment Act." Steve said.

"Your a Patriot and a Hero Senator, You're welcome on this program any time!" Hannity said. "Thank you Tucker, I'll be back after the bill is passed!" Steve said. "I'll be waiting your Return Senator. You have a good night's sleep Senator, God Speed and God Bless you Steve." Hannity said as Steve ended the interview. "God bless you Tucker." Steve said as he left the interview. "Call your Congressmen folks, this bill is long overdue." Hannity said before Continuing with his show.

[Infected Mushroom]

Steve Johnson’s attempt to push through the audacious pro-2nd-Amendment bill was met with a high degree of uproar from the United States Congress as a whole.

The main issue is that Johnson wrote the bill entirely on his own and did not go through the Senate committees. The House was neither courted nor consulted. Many… many… many steps in the traditional formal process had been skipped.

Nevertheless, the bold interview and the declaration from Johnson earned him a reputation as a bit of a rebel in the house, albeit one willing to bypass procedure. It was surprisingly popular with a certain portion of Texan voters but for the rest of the country… they were less impressed and saw it as a bit of an attack on the traditional processes surrounding the Congressional houses.

Within a few hours of the debate, the entire Senate got bogged down into discussions about the formal rules surrounding the proposal of the law itself; finally, the Senate House Leader and others ruled that they had to go back re-drafting it in consultation with all the committees from both the Senate and the House. Such a process could well take weeks to materialize but there was enough interest, in at least part of the Republican faction to start the long road on this one.

Meanwhile… the omnibus bill grand vote was still slated for next Tuesday… unbeknownst to the general public, the United Mafia had a big interest in this one.

---

Quatre Fromage
Washington DC

In a dingy, dimly-lit small office just upstairs of the main restaurant area, two Mafiosis (Nicky Casterllano and Arnold Griezmann) were seated. The restaurant owner was conspicuously absent.

Casterllano sat behind the large desk, there was a TV behind him. Griezmann was there as well.

“So are the players in place?” Nicky asked, referencing the incoming omnibus bill vote.

“Well, everyone that we reached out to is playing on our team… except for, Mr. Johnson,” Griezmann replied. “PHHHHHH… but who cares right? We have more than half the Senators already and-“

“Hold on a minute,” Nicky said, raising a hand and making some exaggerated gestures. “I thought I told you to take care of it.”

“Yeah I gave him a few threats and nudges but come on… the guy is NEW and it’s not like we absolutely NEED him on this-“ Griezmann continued. He was swiftly cut off.

“Hey Griezmann,” Nicky said sharply. “Let me set something STRAIGHT. You’re also NEW okay, we pulled you over from New York and maybe over there, things are more lax but over here in DC, I… I run a TIGHT SHIP okay?”

Griezmann said nothing, he was getting a bit more nervous by the second.

“We represent the High Table in everything we do and what the High Table wants, the High table gets, down to the dot. And that means EVERY SINGLE SENATOR we’ve been ordered to pull. Senator Johnson is going to vote for the omnibus bill… and if he doesn’t… then let’s just say… let’s just say I don’t like the way things are looking for you.”

Griezmann got the message. “Oh… okay… I’ll take care of it then. It’s clearly important to you.”

“Yes it is. I’ll be WATCHING. And don’t underestimate him, he has a history of military service remember.”

---

Washington DC

Vladislav Kalvin

Vladislav had an excruciatingly boring day. He spent most of it following a large tour group all over DC, a few hours in… he was ready to doze off.

How do people do this?

Vladislav wasn’t lacking in intellect but he had a very… peculiar attention span… such that he was able to focus with extraordinary details on things that interested him but in other settings, he just couldn’t do it.

This is in some way worse than high school…

His butler Remy went along and he seemed to be In on some joke, because throughout it all, he asked the tour guide lots of questions about the history of the monuments they were visiting and their place in American history. He was the polar opposite of Vladislav on this. Vladislav kept looking around absent-mindedly, hoping something more exciting would come up.

At one point in the tour, someone asked him… “Hey are you… are you that millionaire on TV? Mr. Kalvin or something?”

“Yes,” Vladislav replied drily. “But please, let’s listen to the tour guide some more for now please.”

He was positively in a rush to get back to the hotel. Once he returned to his suite, he entered and turned on his laptop by the table, not even bothering to change.

“I’ve been thinking about it ALL DAY,” Vladislav said, as he opened up a few documents. “We are going to start our surveillance program with THIS person.”

On the computer screen was a young Mafiosi with light brown-curly hair and a very large nose, beady little eyes:

Arnold Griezmann

“Why him?” Remy asked as he walked up and peered over Vladislav’s shoulder.

“Tom’s sources in the White House said he’s been particularly active, running a large number of errands for Casterllano. I’ve checked up on the reports, and he was seen near the Senate building 24 hours ago. On that exact SAME DAY, one new Senator entered that office for the very first time… a Mr. Steve Johnson from Texas.”

“Steve Johnson sir? The renegade Senator on the news all day?” Remy asked. “With the… the… controversial 2nd Amendment bill? The bloke on the news?”

“That’s the one,” Vladislav said. “I’m going to cross-check with my sources but I suspect Griezmann went to see Johnson that day, possibly in an effort to recruit him over the mob’s team.”

“I don’t know sir,” Remy replied. “Griezmann could have gone there for any number of reasons. It seems a stretch. I mean, why would the mob even NEED Johnson at all when they already have enough Senators doing their bidding to pass laws?”

“I have a hunch…” Vladislav replied. “Aside from being a Senator, Steve, he has a lot of special skills from the military; skills that would interest the mob. He’d be a valuable asset… Now pull up a laptop next to me and see what else we can find out about Johnson. Oh and Remy… cancel the tours tomorrow.”

“We should AT LEAST keep up the pretence for one more day. Don’t you also want to see the Vietnam Memori-“

“ABSOLUTELY NOT,” Vladislav replied. “Absolutely not. To hell with this charade; no more bus tours. Tomorrow Antihero goes out, full surveillance. Make my excuses. Come up with something.”

“Your investor meeting maybe-“

“I don’t care, just come up with something. If I have to hear the names of Thomas Jefferson, Ben Franklin or any of the Founding Fathers one more time- No. Now… EYES ON THE GAME. Arnold Griezmann. Steve Johnson. Tom’s coming online soon.”

---

The Senate Building
Washington DC

It had been a long day of tiring debate and negotiations at the White House. At the very least, the Senate committees had agreed to debate and reformulate some variation of Johnson’s bill before working something out with the House, though this may take many weeks.

All Senators were assigned a security unit of at least two guards and a private transport vehicle. After a full day’s work, it was rather late at night when Steve was transported to the special residence area that had been booked for him for his stay in DC.

Steve was in one car with a special driver. Behind him was a separate security car with two armed guards inside.

Without much of a warning, suddenly the car behind him made a strange turn and stopped tailing Steve’s vehicle… disappearing suspiciously.

“Don’t worry about them,” the driver said sleazily when he saw that Steve had noticed. “They’re just taking a detour.”

A detour… a detour for what?

The driver himself suddenly made a very strange turn. Before Steve could react, the car was speeding down some strange dark alley at an unnaturally high speed. Soon, it was showing up in a very seedy, and deserted part of Washington DC… Steve had no idea this part of the town even existed. What the hell was going on?

“No worries Senator,” the driver said. “No worries.”

Leaving all doors and bulletproof windows firmly locked, the suspicious driver himself got out of his car and out of the vehicle. He sprinted off into the darkness and vanished.

Steve was now trapped behind in the large passenger area, the driver’s area was sealed off by bulletproof glass.

The hell was going on?

There was no way to unlock the car from where Steve was sitting.

[Christian Confederation]

Steve Johnson’s attempt to push through the audacious pro-2nd-Amendment bill was met with a high degree of uproar from the United States Congress as a whole.

The main issue is that Johnson wrote the bill entirely on his own and did not go through the Senate committees. The House was neither courted nor consulted. Many… many… many steps in the traditional formal process had been skipped.

Nevertheless, the bold interview and the declaration from Johnson earned him a reputation as a bit of a rebel in the house, albeit one willing to bypass procedure. It was surprisingly popular with a certain portion of Texan voters but for the rest of the country… they were less impressed and saw it as a bit of an attack on the traditional processes surrounding the Congressional houses.

Within a few hours of the debate, the entire Senate got bogged down into discussions about the formal rules surrounding the proposal of the law itself; finally, the Senate House Leader and others ruled that they had to go back re-drafting it in consultation with all the committees from both the Senate and the House. Such a process could well take weeks to materialize but there was enough interest, in at least part of the Republican faction to start the long road on this one.

Meanwhile… the omnibus bill grand vote was still slated for next Tuesday… unbeknownst to the general public, the United Mafia had a big interest in this one.

---

Quatre Fromage
Washington DC

In a dingy, dimly-lit small office just upstairs of the main restaurant area, two Mafiosis (Nicky Casterllano and Arnold Griezmann) were seated. The restaurant owner was conspicuously absent.

Casterllano sat behind the large desk, there was a TV behind him. Griezmann was there as well.

“So are the players in place?” Nicky asked, referencing the incoming omnibus bill vote.

“Well, everyone that we reached out to is playing on our team… except for, Mr. Johnson,” Griezmann replied. “PHHHHHH… but who cares right? We have more than half the Senators already and-“

“Hold on a minute,” Nicky said, raising a hand and making some exaggerated gestures. “I thought I told you to take care of it.”

“Yeah I gave him a few threats and nudges but come on… the guy is NEW and it’s not like we absolutely NEED him on this-“ Griezmann continued. He was swiftly cut off.

“Hey Griezmann,” Nicky said sharply. “Let me set something STRAIGHT. You’re also NEW okay, we pulled you over from New York and maybe over there, things are more lax but over here in DC, I… I run a TIGHT SHIP okay?”

Griezmann said nothing, he was getting a bit more nervous by the second.

“We represent the High Table in everything we do and what the High Table wants, the High table gets, down to the dot. And that means EVERY SINGLE SENATOR we’ve been ordered to pull. Senator Johnson is going to vote for the omnibus bill… and if he doesn’t… then let’s just say… let’s just say I don’t like the way things are looking for you.”

Griezmann got the message. “Oh… okay… I’ll take care of it then. It’s clearly important to you.”

“Yes it is. I’ll be WATCHING. And don’t underestimate him, he has a history of military service remember.”

---

Washington DC

Vladislav Kalvin

Vladislav had an excruciatingly boring day. He spent most of it following a large tour group all over DC, a few hours in… he was ready to doze off.

How do people do this?

Vladislav wasn’t lacking in intellect but he had a very… peculiar attention span… such that he was able to focus with extraordinary details on things that interested him but in other settings, he just couldn’t do it.

This is in some way worse than high school…

His butler Remy went along and he seemed to be In on some joke, because throughout it all, he asked the tour guide lots of questions about the history of the monuments they were visiting and their place in American history. He was the polar opposite of Vladislav on this. Vladislav kept looking around absent-mindedly, hoping something more exciting would come up.

At one point in the tour, someone asked him… “Hey are you… are you that millionaire on TV? Mr. Kalvin or something?”

“Yes,” Vladislav replied drily. “But please, let’s listen to the tour guide some more for now please.”

He was positively in a rush to get back to the hotel. Once he returned to his suite, he entered and turned on his laptop by the table, not even bothering to change.

“I’ve been thinking about it ALL DAY,” Vladislav said, as he opened up a few documents. “We are going to start our surveillance program with THIS person.”

On the computer screen was a young Mafiosi with light brown-curly hair and a very large nose, beady little eyes:

Arnold Griezmann

“Why him?” Remy asked as he walked up and peered over Vladislav’s shoulder.

“Tom’s sources in the White House said he’s been particularly active, running a large number of errands for Casterllano. I’ve checked up on the reports, and he was seen near the Senate building 24 hours ago. On that exact SAME DAY, one new Senator entered that office for the very first time… a Mr. Steve Johnson from Texas.”

“Steve Johnson sir? The renegade Senator on the news all day?” Remy asked. “With the… the… controversial 2nd Amendment bill? The bloke on the news?”

“That’s the one,” Vladislav said. “I’m going to cross-check with my sources but I suspect Griezmann went to see Johnson that day, possibly in an effort to recruit him over the mob’s team.”

“I don’t know sir,” Remy replied. “Griezmann could have gone there for any number of reasons. It seems a stretch. I mean, why would the mob even NEED Johnson at all when they already have enough Senators doing their bidding to pass laws?”

“I have a hunch…” Vladislav replied. “Aside from being a Senator, Steve, he has a lot of special skills from the military; skills that would interest the mob. He’d be a valuable asset… Now pull up a laptop next to me and see what else we can find out about Johnson. Oh and Remy… cancel the tours tomorrow.”

“We should AT LEAST keep up the pretence for one more day. Don’t you also want to see the Vietnam Memori-“

“ABSOLUTELY NOT,” Vladislav replied. “Absolutely not. To hell with this charade; no more bus tours. Tomorrow Antihero goes out, full surveillance. Make my excuses. Come up with something.”

“Your investor meeting maybe-“

“I don’t care, just come up with something. If I have to hear the names of Thomas Jefferson, Ben Franklin or any of the Founding Fathers one more time- No. Now… EYES ON THE GAME. Arnold Griezmann. Steve Johnson. Tom’s coming online soon.”

---

The Senate Building
Washington DC

It had been a long day of tiring debate and negotiations at the White House. At the very least, the Senate committees had agreed to debate and reformulate some variation of Johnson’s bill before working something out with the House, though this may take many weeks.

All Senators were assigned a security unit of at least two guards and a private transport vehicle. After a full day’s work, it was rather late at night when Steve was transported to the special residence area that had been booked for him for his stay in DC.

Steve was in one car with a special driver. Behind him was a separate security car with two armed guards inside.

Without much of a warning, suddenly the car behind him made a strange turn and stopped tailing Steve’s vehicle… disappearing suspiciously.

“Don’t worry about them,” the driver said sleazily when he saw that Steve had noticed. “They’re just taking a detour.”

A detour… a detour for what?

The driver himself suddenly made a very strange turn. Before Steve could react, the car was speeding down some strange dark alley at an unnaturally high speed. Soon, it was showing up in a very seedy, and deserted part of Washington DC… Steve had no idea this part of the town even existed. What the hell was going on?

“No worries Senator,” the driver said. “No worries.”

Leaving all doors and bulletproof windows firmly locked, the suspicious driver himself got out of his car and out of the vehicle. He sprinted off into the darkness and vanished.

Steve was now trapped behind in the large passenger area, the driver’s area was sealed off by bulletproof glass.

The hell was going on?

There was no way to unlock the car from where Steve was sitting.

The Alley
Steve was exhausted. He had spent all day defending his bill. Congress had tried to pull there normal crap of corrupting a bill into nothing close to it's original purpose. Now his sketchy government provided security team has ran off and left him in a sketchy neighborhood. Steve grabbed his gun, the Colt 1911 he smuggled into the city. He did the only thing he knew, and called the Police.

[Infected Mushroom]

Underside of Washington DC

It was dark outside except for a few tall streetlamps casting orange lights. An ominous breeze blew about, sending a few fallen leaves flying about. Johnson’s vehicle had come out of a dark alley and was now parked at an intersection near several columns of concrete pavements. A large number of warehouses and abandoned factories behind fences were scattered throughout. It was clearly not a residential area… this was some kind of run-down manufacturing section.

For a moment, there was seemingly no one at all standing outside.

Then they showed up, stepping out from a heavily shadowed area like monsters. The orange lights cast an eery glaze over their grinning faces.

The first person to re-appear was the treacherous driver (Mel Smith); he was shouting something and pointing at Steve’s trapped vehicle in manner rather like that of a civilian in The Troubles pointing out an enemy position to a nearby sniper.

Then the criminal elements stepped out and approached the vehicle.

Arnold Griezmann had an unusually smug expression on his face; his short light curly brown hair blew about in the wind; he was dressed in a designer brown Italian suit with a blood red tie with leather shoes.

Griezmann had brought the muscle (4 other enforcers with him):

Tony Alfonsi and
Luca Spinacci (two large muscle heads in leathercoats with pistols drawn out)

Fino Del Maro (a tall, thin grinning, cigarette smoking thug with a fedora with a large hunting rifle slinging over his jacket-ed shoulder)

Jimmy Gainsworth (an Irish hoodlum and mob associate who tagged along for the fun; he was wearing a hood over his brown hair and was also carrying a recover)

Steve Johnson now had six opponents to deal with.

They swiftly surrounded the vehicle. They saw that Steve was on the phone so they decided to act quickly.

Mel Smith pulled out a remote and pressed a button at the car. There was a clicking sound as suddenly all the doors were unlocked.

Luca swiftly grabbed the passenger’s door and pulled it open, exposing Steve. The US Senator was holding a phone in one hand, and a revolver in the other…
Since Luca was the one who opened the door and was still standing behind… that left the other 5 individuals standing all around; some of them had their weapons pointed at Steve.

Arnold was clearly the ringleader because he spoke up.

“Well well well… Senator… you have a gun eh?” he said. “Now listen carefully. This can get real ugly really fast, it don’t necessary have to go that way. Drop the gun, drop the gun and step out of the car. Come with us.”

“Should I DO HIM?!” Jimmy Gainsworth screeched out (it seemed he was high on drugs); being a bit of a mindless enforcer, he was filled with blood lust: “JUST SAY THE WORD-“

“Shut the FUCK UP and STAY PUT!” Arnold yelled at him, silencing him (all the while, the mobster kept his gun trained on Steve with a steady aim).

Arnold turned back to Steve. “Unless Senator does something dumb, we don’t off him. Senator… what’s your play? You’ll play along?”

“Don’t try anything DUMB!” Fino called out, brandishing his rifle.

---

Nearby...

Vladislav Kalvin

Wow this is really going to go down after all… it’s going to be fantastic…

After tailing the parties all day long from a safe distance, dividends were finally being paid. DC is the right place to be after all.

From a considerably far away and safe distance and behind some fences, the masked vigilante was watching the scenario unfold.

Presently, no one had seen him yet and he was well shielded by the darkness.

Vladislav was in his outfit, completely dressed from head to toe in his navy-blue battle outfit. His face well-hidden behind the dark blue, Antihero mask, opaque goggles, and battle helmet.

Vladislav considered his options. The Mafia had the numbers, but he had the element of surprise. It was tempting to try it…

But there were a number of problems. The area wasn't sufficiently pre-scouted; it was unclear if there were other enemies lurking around. Also, if he started a battle here the Senator would definitely bite it... this is something to avoid.

But... but what if they took Steve and escaped with him?

Hmmmm....

I'm going to wait and see...

[Christian Confederation]

Underside of Washington DC

It was dark outside except for a few tall streetlamps casting orange lights. An ominous breeze blew about, sending a few fallen leaves flying about. Johnson’s vehicle had come out of a dark alley and was now parked at an intersection near several columns of concrete pavements. A large number of warehouses and abandoned factories behind fences were scattered throughout. It was clearly not a residential area… this was some kind of run-down manufacturing section.

For a moment, there was seemingly no one at all standing outside.

Then they showed up, stepping out from a heavily shadowed area like monsters. The orange lights cast an eery glaze over their grinning faces.

The first person to re-appear was the treacherous driver (Mel Smith); he was shouting something and pointing at Steve’s trapped vehicle in manner rather like that of a civilian in The Troubles pointing out an enemy position to a nearby sniper.

Then the criminal elements stepped out and approached the vehicle.

Arnold Griezmann had an unusually smug expression on his face; his short light curly brown hair blew about in the wind; he was dressed in a designer brown Italian suit with a blood red tie with leather shoes.

Griezmann had brought the muscle (4 other enforcers with him):

Tony Alfonsi and
Luca Spinacci (two large muscle heads in leathercoats with pistols drawn out)

Fino Del Maro (a tall, thin grinning, cigarette smoking thug with a fedora with a large hunting rifle slinging over his jacket-ed shoulder)

Jimmy Gainsworth (an Irish hoodlum and mob associate who tagged along for the fun; he was wearing a hood over his brown hair and was also carrying a recover)

Steve Johnson now had six opponents to deal with.

They swiftly surrounded the vehicle. They saw that Steve was on the phone so they decided to act quickly.

Mel Smith pulled out a remote and pressed a button at the car. There was a clicking sound as suddenly all the doors were unlocked.

Luca swiftly grabbed the passenger’s door and pulled it open, exposing Steve. The US Senator was holding a phone in one hand, and a revolver in the other…
Since Luca was the one who opened the door and was still standing behind… that left the other 5 individuals standing all around; some of them had their weapons pointed at Steve.

Arnold was clearly the ringleader because he spoke up.

“Well well well… Senator… you have a gun eh?” he said. “Now listen carefully. This can get real ugly really fast, it don’t necessary have to go that way. Drop the gun, drop the gun and step out of the car. Come with us.”

“Should I DO HIM?!” Jimmy Gainsworth screeched out (it seemed he was high on drugs); being a bit of a mindless enforcer, he was filled with blood lust: “JUST SAY THE WORD-“

“Shut the FUCK UP and STAY PUT!” Arnold yelled at him, silencing him (all the while, the mobster kept his gun trained on Steve with a steady aim).

Arnold turned back to Steve. “Unless Senator does something dumb, we don’t off him. Senator… what’s your play? You’ll play along?”

“Don’t try anything DUMB!” Fino called out, brandishing his rifle.

---

Nearby...

Vladislav Kalvin

Wow this is really going to go down after all… it’s going to be fantastic…

After tailing the parties all day long from a safe distance, dividends were finally being paid. DC is the right place to be after all.

From a considerably far away and safe distance and behind some fences, the masked vigilante was watching the scenario unfold.

Presently, no one had seen him yet and he was well shielded by the darkness.

Vladislav was in his outfit, completely dressed from head to toe in his navy-blue battle outfit. His face well-hidden behind the dark blue, Antihero mask, opaque goggles, and battle helmet.

Vladislav considered his options. The Mafia had the numbers, but he had the element of surprise. It was tempting to try it…

But there were a number of problems. The area wasn't sufficiently pre-scouted; it was unclear if there were other enemies lurking around. Also, if he started a battle here the Senator would definitely bite it... this is something to avoid.

But... but what if they took Steve and escaped with him?

Hmmmm....

I'm going to wait and see...

Steve had his gun ready to go when the criminal opened the door. "Look if it's cadh you want I have 20 bucks on me. If you want to ransom me off you're not going away happy. Texas doesn't negotiate with terrorists." He said putting the muted but on phone in his pocket. "Kidnapping a Senator will get you Gentlemen nowhere, the Feds would find and kill you before you even realised what happened. Now since you boys went through the effort of cornering me I'll here what you have to say, but I'm not going anywhere." Steve said hoping the police had found his location by now. "Nobody has to get hurt let's talk then go our separate ways." He said watching the Criminal.

[Nagakawa]

Washington D.C.
The Queen B!tch

The door to the Queen B!tch flew open, and in came Representative Joe Langley himself, hurriedly walking over to the usual booth where he and his folks sat, dumping his overcoat and hat down and pulling his tie loose.

"Get ready, you fannies", he rasped at the others in the bar. "They're coming."

Again, the door burst open, and a large group of men in dark suits burst in, some of them brandishing Japanese swords and other assorted weapons.

"Everybody, hands on your heads and knees to the g-hrkh!"

One of the men, a large and stocky person, had tried giving orders to the patrons of the bar, but found himself suddenly gripped in a rear naked choke from behind by Jesse, who puffed his chest out and tightened the choke for another three seconds, until the man passed unconscious and flopped onto the ground, pissing his pants as he did so.

At the same time, one of the invaders who was armed with a sword began hacking about wildly, but before he could do much else damage, he found himself in Ash's grip. She had dodged a slash, albeit losing some of her hair and receiving a cut to the face in the process, and with her fingers coiled tightly into his lapel, she quickly pivoted her body inwards, pulled the man forward to break his balance, and then thrust her hip against the man's and cut her foot backwards to sweep the man off his feet. The sword flew out of his grip, and the man hit the ground so hard that a cracking sound could be heard as his head whipped against the parquet floor.

"Heyyy", said Ash to herself with a silly grin. "That was a flawless harai-goshi. Sensei would be proud."

"That's right, you dirty little slut, I'm gonna get you."

One of the men attempted to rush Ash, but was promptly put out of action as Leonie intervened, hopping deftly between them and landing, on his ribs, a spinning back kick, shattering his sternum and sending him flying.

"This other dirty little slut knows taekwondo", said Leonie, glowering mockingly over the man who'd attempted to get her and smiling cruelly, to Ash's amusement. Another man attempted to rush at the two ladies, but was promptly sent reeling to the side- Erwin Carter had entered the scene, landing a straight jab to his face and moving in on him, like a brick wall. The man kicked Erwin in the shin, but Erwin didn't so much as flinch, before punching him again and knocking him out.

By now, the Queen B!tch had erupted into a full-blown battleground. As Joe Langley pushed his way into a clearing, stopping only to stomp on the groin of one of the fallen assailants, the main door of the bar slammed hard open, and in came another familiar, handsome face.

"Paulos Fontana, you absolute wanker."

"Representative Joseph Langley of California 39th District, you are a FUCKING annoyance", Paulos Fontana screamed, pointing at him menacingly and reaching into his coat.

"Yes, I'm well aware of that."

Before Fontana could draw his concealed pistol, Langley had zipped in and grabbed him by the collar, his other hand gripping Fontana's pistol hand and twisting its wrist. Fontana screamed in pain, as the pistol fell out of his hand, and Langley kicked it across the room to Erwin, who picked it up and quickly unloaded the magazine, tossing it far out of reach, to behind the bar counter.

As Fontana attempted to counterattack, Joe Langley grabbed Fontana's sleeve, releasing the man's tie and seizing the lapel of his jacket on the same side, before quickly entering and sweeping Fontana off of his feet and slamming him into the ground, face first. Roaring in anger, Fontana clambered back to his feet, scooted a short distance away from Langley, and then adopted a southpaw Muay Thai stance, licking the blood that was slowly trickling out of his nostril.

"Do not attempt to fuck with me, Congressman Langley", Fontana attempted to taunt Langley, though it came off rather stiff and awkward owing to his clunky diction. "I am also aware of how to engage in unarmed combat."

"We're going to have to end this fight soon", said Joe Langley to Zach and the others, ignoring Fontana and casually shaking his arms to dispel the lactic acid. "We have other things to talk about."

...

Elsewhere in Washington D.C.

"Jesus Christ, what's happening?"

Just shortly after leaving his office, Congressman Zeke Rousey (R, CA-22) checked his phone. He'd received several messages from Joe, clearly typed in an urgent tone of voice.

zeke be careful

theyre taking action

go home str away n watch ur surroundings

"They're taking action??"

Congressman Rousey had opted, shortly after taking office just barely a month ago, to take public transport back to his suburban apartment in the outskirts of D.C. some distance away from the Capitol. Joe Langley had told him some time ago that he had to be careful with the Capitol police and even with the Secret Service- many of them were now with the Mafia- but at that moment, a deep sense of malaise gripped him in the stomach, as he realised the peril of going totally incognito.

Could the Mafia, perhaps, know who he was?

A motorcycle sped towards his general direction from the distance. Zeke looked nervously at it, as it came closer and closer to the bus stop where he stood, and the headlamp became brighter and brighter.

Oh shit, it can't be-

When he finally realised what was going on, Zeke turned round and made a dash for the nearest alley, but it was too late. The motorcycle zoomed in, weaved through the lamps and onto the pedestrian walkway, and chased Zeke down the alley.

"Oh shit! Oh shi-"

The rider, brandishing a baseball bat, swerved masterfully through the alley. Zeke had made the mistake of choosing to run down an alley wide enough for multiple people, let alone one bike. With a swing of the bat, as he ground to a halt just in front, the rider smashed Zeke in the kneecap.

"AAAAHHH!!"

As Zeke collapsed to the ground, the rider got off the bike, still wearing his helmet.

"Congressman Ezekiel Rousey?"

Zeke did not answer. He gripped his shattered kneecap and writhed on the ground in a foetal position, saliva and tears of agony dribbling down his face onto the ground.

"Nothing personal, kiddo", said the rider, brandishing his bat. "Just need you to pass a little message to your mentor, Joseph Langley. Don't worry, you ain't gonna die. The doctor will just have to cut your legs off once I'm done, is all."

And with that, the rider undid his tie and used it to gag the wounded Congressman, before proceeding to land a flurry of vicious, merciless blows onto Zeke's legs, smashing them to a pulp. He'd left the engine of his motorcycle on, so between that and the Congressman being gagged, nobody outside could hear anything.

By the time he was done, Zeke was barely conscious, and his legs were mangled beyond recognition. The assailant lit up a cigarette and stood over the Congressman, before then getting back on his bike and driving off into the distance, just shortly before a passer-by looked in the alley, saw the badly wounded man lying on the ground, and called an ambulance in a flurry of confused screams.

[Infected Mushroom]

Near Steve Johnson's Vehicle
Underside of DC

Arnold Griezmann

The gangsters had the Senator's car surrounded, yet he wasn't giving up.

Why do you HAVE to make things so hard?

God damn it. He’s a lot tougher than I reckoned… Outnumbered six to one and yet he stands his ground.

“Look Senator,” Arnold said. “This ain’t how you’re supposed to play. And let me tell you a secret… that gun ain’t gonna help you. See cause we’ve got six to one. Also, for that phone of yours…”

Griezmann’s excitement was rising because he could see that while he was talking to Steve, two of his five goons, Fino and Jimmy, were now quietly sneaking around to the other side of the vehicle to ambush the Senator. Clearly, they intended to surprise Steve by opening the other side of the car’s passenger area from behind him… allowing the Mafia to attack Steve from two sides.

Griezmann calculated that he just had to keep talking, while keeping a gun pointed at Steve. Luca and Tony emerged from either side of him, both of them also aiming guns at Steve.

Standing further to the back, the treacherous driver Smith was chuckling darkly.

“It don’t matter who you call Senator,” Arnold said. “Cause we own this whole town. Let me tell ya… the cops they won’t come cause we own them, and also bout-“

BANG!

Griezmann blinked as several other people cried out from around him. It wasn’t Steve who fired. Then who?

Forgetting about the Senator for a moment, he turned around and saw a mess.

---

A few seconds earlier…

Antihero/Vladislav Kalvin

From the cover of darkness about 800 meters away. The ruthless Antihero crouched and aimed with his M4 carbine rifle; it was outfitted with simple iron sights. He was trying his best to make out the conversation Steve was having with the mobsters.

Since they were all yelling like it was some kind of a Law and Order show, this was surprisingly easy.

By the looks of it, Steve had some bravado but it was only going to be a matter of time before the gangsters started shooting.

This isn’t how I prefer it. I’d rather he went with the gangsters, then I could pick a better moment to attack and he’d be in less danger. But oh well…

Now that two of the goons were sneaking to other side of the car, that meant three guns at the Senator.

At least for now, the terrain favors me. They made a small error, they’re in the open, facing the wrong way. Can’t let them open that other door, now or never…

Antihero aimed his carbine and fired. His target selection: the defenceless driver (for he had the remote that opened the locks), maybe this would give Steve a chance.

---

From the cover of darkness, a single 5.56×45mm bullet came whizzing out across a great distance.

Antihero’s aim was true.

The powerful round struck the remote-holding Mel Smith very squarely on the back of his head, instantly taking him out of this world. There was a sickening thud as the entire form of the uniformed driver tripped and fell forward in a very exaggerated arc… he landed facedown on the pavement with a sickening crack.

Several gangsters around him cursed and cried out. Luca, Tony, and Griezmann turned around as they saw the casualty.

From the other side of Steve’s vehicle, Jimmy and Fino jumped as well.

[Christian Confederation]

Near Steve Johnson's Vehicle
Underside of DC

Arnold Griezmann

The gangsters had the Senator's car surrounded, yet he wasn't giving up.

Why do you HAVE to make things so hard?

God damn it. He’s a lot tougher than I reckoned… Outnumbered six to one and yet he stands his ground.

“Look Senator,” Arnold said. “This ain’t how you’re supposed to play. And let me tell you a secret… that gun ain’t gonna help you. See cause we’ve got six to one. Also, for that phone of yours…”

Griezmann’s excitement was rising because he could see that while he was talking to Steve, two of his five goons, Fino and Jimmy, were now quietly sneaking around to the other side of the vehicle to ambush the Senator. Clearly, they intended to surprise Steve by opening the other side of the car’s passenger area from behind him… allowing the Mafia to attack Steve from two sides.

Griezmann calculated that he just had to keep talking, while keeping a gun pointed at Steve. Luca and Tony emerged from either side of him, both of them also aiming guns at Steve.

Standing further to the back, the treacherous driver Smith was chuckling darkly.

“It don’t matter who you call Senator,” Arnold said. “Cause we own this whole town. Let me tell ya… the cops they won’t come cause we own them, and also bout-“

BANG!

Griezmann blinked as several other people cried out from around him. It wasn’t Steve who fired. Then who?

Forgetting about the Senator for a moment, he turned around and saw a mess.

---

A few seconds earlier…

Antihero/Vladislav Kalvin

From the cover of darkness about 800 meters away. The ruthless Antihero crouched and aimed with his M4 carbine rifle; it was outfitted with simple iron sights. He was trying his best to make out the conversation Steve was having with the mobsters.

Since they were all yelling like it was some kind of a Law and Order show, this was surprisingly easy.

By the looks of it, Steve had some bravado but it was only going to be a matter of time before the gangsters started shooting.

This isn’t how I prefer it. I’d rather he went with the gangsters, then I could pick a better moment to attack and he’d be in less danger. But oh well…

Now that two of the goons were sneaking to other side of the car, that meant three guns at the Senator.

At least for now, the terrain favors me. They made a small error, they’re in the open, facing the wrong way. Can’t let them open that other door, now or never…

Antihero aimed his carbine and fired. His target selection: the defenceless driver (for he had the remote that opened the locks), maybe this would give Steve a chance.

---

From the cover of darkness, a single 5.56×45mm bullet came whizzing out across a great distance.

Antihero’s aim was true.

The powerful round struck the remote-holding Mel Smith very squarely on the back of his head, instantly taking him out of this world. There was a sickening thud as the entire form of the uniformed driver tripped and fell forward in a very exaggerated arc… he landed facedown on the pavement with a sickening crack.

Several gangsters around him cursed and cried out. Luca, Tony, and Griezmann turned around as they saw the casualty.

From the other side of Steve’s vehicle, Jimmy and Fino jumped as well.

Steve Shot at and shoved the Gangster in front of him, if he hit the guy he didn't know all he knew was he needed that door closed. Steve closed the door and manually locked it. He rolled to the passenger side and locked it.