Dinner And A Show - Part 3

John pressed his finger against the communicator in his ear.

“Laz?” he whispered. “Laz, come in.”

Static.

He tapped it again. “Agent Hawk, do you copy?”

Still nothing.

Mango looked at him, leaning against the wall of the cramped supply closet filled with coats and janitorial gear. “Nothing?”

He shook his head. “Dead. Something’s wrong.”

Then FOCUS spoke in his mind.

<<<>>>

[Activating Talent: Underworld Legacy]

[Probability of death: High]

<<<>>>

Ok, then I need a plan, thought John.

<<<>>>

[Affirmative]

[Calculating optimal strategic action based on previous underworld successes…]

[Recommendation: Steal Bailiff’s ticket to prevent return to secure booth. Interrogate in an isolated area.]

[Success probability: 5% in current condition.]

[This is the highest success rate available.]

<<<>>>

John sighed. “Great. Best option we’ve got still gives us a ninety-five percent chance of getting caught.”

Mango turned toward him, eyebrows raised. “Sounds like you need an edge.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

“I can give you a skill. One that’ll help. But I want one in return.”

“You can do that?”

“I have a transfer device,” she said, pulling something from her purse. It looked like a pair of soft, sticky pads connected by a coiled wire. “Stick these to the back of our necks. Focus does the rest.”

“How do you know that? How the hell do you even have this?”

“I collect all kinds of things.”

“It’s going to bite you in the ass one day.”

“You love it.”

“What skill are you offering?” he asked.

“‘One With the Shadows.’ It'll allow you to determine the best path to approach the target unnoticed. As long as they're not specifically looking for you. Pair that with your ‘Shadow Step’ and you’ll be ghosting through this place like fog. ‘Shadow Step’ should be a basic skill the spy class has. It allows you to move silently and unseen through enemy territory.”

“And how do you know that?!”

Fuck, did I blow my cover? Does she know I’m CIA? thought John.

“I know you have ‘Analyze’ and ‘Combat’. I don’t know what class you have, but it sounds custom built. I’m willing to guess that you took ‘Shadow Step’ because of how effective it is. Do you want to ask questions or do you want to move like a ninja and have the tactical pathways to match?”

“And you want…?”

“‘Shadow Step,’” she replied simply.

He paused. That skill was integral to his infiltration ability. But the math was simple. If they failed here, it wouldn’t matter what skills he kept.

“Fine.”

They each peeled the pads from the device and pressed them to the back of their necks.

A soft electric zap surged through John’s spine. Then—

Everything went black.

John found himself suspended in a black void. The same one as before. However, this time he was in a yellow bubble of sorts, floating around on what seemed like a body of water.

Unlike last time, Mango was there in her own bubble. For a second he thought it was someone else. She was so small. Her hair wasn’t as blonde as it was before. It was dirty blonde and in twin pigtails. She wore blue overalls with a plaid undershirt. She didn’t have any shoes on and had a straw hat. Then John realized why she was so small: She was a kid!

He looked down at his hands. He was a child again, just as before. So why was he still in a suit? He looked at his reflection in the bubble and realized it was his Sunday suit from when he used to go to church with his family. If that were true then…

He patted his pockets. Yep. He had his butterfly knife in his right pocket.

Mango waved at him with a big smile. John waved back and then the whole place started to rumble.

A red screen materialized in front of him, lines of glowing code scrolling across its surface.

<<<>>>

[Request received: Skill trade]

[User Mango requests: Shadow Step (Spy Skill)]

[User John to receive: One With the Shadows (Thief Skill)]

[Trade is copy style. Both users will keep their skill and send a copy to the other user]

[This trade is permanent. Do you accept?]

<<<>>>

John hovered his hand over the [Accept] button.

He clicked.

<<<>>>

[Do you wish to delete any skills?]

<<<>>>

The screen showed his skill slots. His first three were taken but he had two open slots. Since he didn’t see the point in making more room he clicked [No].

A rush of warmth flowed through his mind. Like he had just been dumped into a bubbling jacuzzi. He could feel Mango’s presence faintly across the link, like her thoughts were brushing against his own. For a moment, they seemed to switch places. Then—

<<<>>>

[Skill Trade Complete]

[New Skill Added: One With the Shadows (Thief)]

[Skill is placed in slot 4]

[Updated Success Rate: 30%]

[Now rebooting…]

<<<>>>

John inhaled deeply. His mind clawing its way back into reality.

Mango opened her eyes at the same time. They looked at each other.

“You good?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said, rolling his shoulders. “I think… I can feel it. You sure you got this?”

“Sure I’m sure,” she replied, fluffing her hair with a smirk. “It’s not my first time stealing a man’s heart… or his access pass.”

John didn’t respond, but his muscles tensed. He hated watching her turn on that same charm she sometimes used on him, but for someone else. Still, they didn’t have time for jealousy. Not now. He cracked open the door. There was still a crowd of people in the halls. They stopped out and went into the lobby area.

“FOCUS,” he whispered under his breath.

<<<>>>

[FOCUS online]

<<<>>>

“Activate Talent: Underworld Legacy. Combine with Skill: Analyze. Subject: crowd.”

<<<>>>

[Affirmative]

[Analyzing crowd]

[Cross-referencing facial structures with memory archive.]

<<<>>>

A series of boxes hovered in his vision. Green, red, and orange tags popping up over various patrons in the crowd.

<<<>>>

[Activating Talent. Singling out people matching Bailiff description type]

<<<>>>

Some flagged as mercenaries, others dealers, a few with “Unknown Status.” Then one glowed bright gold: Bailiff.

His father’s old weapons diplomat. A power broker who kept the fragile peace among black-market buyers during family transitions. Made sense he’d be here now. Bailiff was a fitting nickname. He must’ve changed it while John was away because he knew him as Barry.

<<<>>>

[Target identified: BAILIFF. Facial recognition matched Barry “Bailiff” Terajada]

[Status: Active Negotiator, Tier-One Arms Broker.]

[Analyzing crowd movement… Anomalies detected.]

[Several Hostiles in the area]

[Caution advised]

<<<>>>

“Combine ‘One With the Shadow’ with ‘Shadow Step.’”

<<<>>>

[Using skills: One With the Shadows, Shadow Step. Activating.]

<<<>>>

A wave of cold slipped down John’s spine, like a rush of static moving through his limbs. His posture shifted automatically. His shoulders dropped. His steps lightened.

He could feel it: the FOCUS gently hijacking his nervous system. Every muscle, every tendon—loosened, recalibrated. His weight adjusted as he stepped forward, and suddenly, he didn’t feel like a man anymore. More like a sneaking predator. Like a jungle cat.

The AI began highlighting a path for him in a long red line, weaving through the crowd. . It highlighted a section besides him. As long as he didn’t break the rhythm, he was invisible. The crowd became his cover.

<<<>>>

[Blend into the surrounding environment.]

[Maintain silence. Maintain line of sight.]

<<<>>>

Mango had already stepped out from the closet, her heels clicking confidently against the floor. The light from the chandelier caught the curve of her back, and John saw Bailiff notice her instantly. Mango winked at him and started to walk away. He followed.

Perfect.

He melted into the crowd, slipping behind a server pushing a tray of shrimp cocktails. The moment the server passed in front of a pair of guards, John ducked his head and moved sideways. He slid between two chatting diplomats. A woman turned her head to speak to someone else, and John ghosted through the blind spot she created.

<<<>>>

[No detection.]

<<<>>>

Ten feet. Then five.

He slid behind a wide marble column as Bailiff stepped toward Mango, his smirk growing with every inch he closed. John could hear him clearly now.

“Hello,” Bailiff said, kissing her hand. “I haven’t seen you around.”

“I’m more of a hands-on kinda gal.” Mango replied, twirling her hair. “It’s not every day a girl gets to dress up for something so… elite.”

“I like a woman who’s good with her hands.” he said with a smirk.

“Really? Some people say I’m too good with my hands.”

He stepped forward again, skimming along the edge of the wall as Mango leaned in. Her finger was already on Bailiff’s lapel, her other hand sneaking low and inside his jacket.

“I’ll see you at your booth,” she whispered in his ear.

Bailiff blinked, then puffed up like a peacock. “Oh, I’ll be waiting.”

He strutted off like a man who thought he just got lucky.

John shadowed him carefully, still invisible in the crowd. A moment later, Bailiff reached the hallway entrance. The guards stepped in front of him.

“Ticket, sir?”

Bailiff patted himself down. First the right pocket. Then left. Then inside his jacket.

Panic started to bloom across his face.

“I… I had it. It was just—”

“No ticket, no entry,” the guard said firmly.

Bailiff turned back toward the lobby, grumbling.

That was John’s cue.

In one smooth motion, he stepped out from the crowd and pressed the silenced pistol into Bailiff’s back.

“Don’t move,” John said coldly. “You so much as twitch and I promise, no one will notice you vanish in this crowd.”

Bailiff froze.

“…John?” he asked, his voice hoarse with disbelief.

“Guess you do remember,” John replied. “Good. Makes this easier.”

“They said you were dead. I heard–”

“-You heard wrong,” John growled. “Now walk. Bathroom. You and I are gonna catch up.”

With a careful glance to ensure no one was watching, he guided Bailiff through the crowd and toward the bathroom, the silencer hidden perfectly under his jacket. His other hand gripped Bailiff’s elbow tightly enough to let him know there was no escape.

<<<>>>

[Focus path updated. Target: Captured.]

<<<>>>

John didn’t feel triumphant.

Not yet.

***
The bathroom was mercifully empty.

John shoved the door open with his shoulder and pushed Bailiff inside. The older man stumbled forward, catching himself on the sink, before turning around with hands up.

“John, listen,” he stammered, “I’m just a middle man! I don’t want any trouble—”

“Too late,” John growled, slamming the door shut behind them. “You’ve been making trouble since I was a kid! You’re a spineless leech on my family’s underbelly.”

He shoved Bailiff against the tiled wall, pressing a forearm into the man’s chest. “Where’s Peter?”

“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

Before John could even respond, the bathroom lock clicked again. Mango slipped inside and turned the deadbolt tight.

“I locked it. We don’t have much time.” she said.

John nodded, then tapped his earpiece. “Laz, we’re in the men’s bathroom. West hallway, behind the art installation.”

Above them, a ceiling tile shifted.

With a quiet thud, Laz dropped down from the crawlspace like a ghost in a tailored suit. He landed softly behind them, gun already drawn.

His face was red with adrenaline.

“Where the hell did you come from?” asked Mango.

“The ceiling, where is he?” Laz snapped, stepping forward and jamming the gun under Bailiff’s chin.

“I told him, I don’t—”

Pow!

Laz’s fist connected with Bailiff’s stomach, folding him in half. The man let out a wet cough, nearly collapsing if Laz hadn’t held him up by the collar.

John didn’t say anything. He stood in the corner, clearing his throat. He didn’t like being so rough, but this was the only shot they had.

Another hit. This time to the ribs. Bailiff groaned, spit flying from his mouth.

“Where is Peter going?” Laz asked again.

“I-I don’t-he just said to stay in the lobby, that’s all I know!” Bailiff wheezed.

“Bullshit,” Laz snapped. “You’re one of the family’s dealers! You know everything.”

Mango moved toward the stall, checking under the doors.

“No one else is here, but they won’t take long. I hear footsteps.”

Another punch.

Then another.

Bailiff slumped to his knees. Laz grabbed his head and pulled him back up.

“You really wanna do this the hard way?”

John was starting to shift uncomfortably. “Laz, we don’t have time for this-”

“Exactly,” Laz said, and kicked open a stall. “We speed it up.”

He dragged Bailiff into the stall, forcing him to his knees. The man whimpered, barely able to lift his head. Laz grabbed the back of his neck and shoved his face straight into the toilet.

Laz yanked him back up. “Where is he?”

Bailiff coughed and shook his head.

A second dunk. Water splashed everywhere.

“Goddamn it, Laz!” Mango snapped. “This isn’t working!”

“He’s not going to break,” John said, moving toward them.

A pounding started on the outer bathroom door. Heavy banging sounds. Voices.

“They’re almost in,” Mango said. “We have maybe seconds.”

Laz grit his teeth and drew his gun again. “Last chance.”

He dunked Bailiff’s face into the toilet one more time and then shot him in the leg while he was under.

Bailiff’s body thrashed, instinctively trying to scream underwater. A choked gurgle filled the stall.

“Jesus Christ!” John shouted.

He lunged forward, shoving Laz aside, yanked Bailiff’s limp body out, and dropped him to the floor.

Bailiff wasn’t breathing.

“You killed him!” John shouted.

“He’s not dead,” Laz said flatly, holstering his gun.

John dropped to his knees and started CPR. Hard, steady compressions. Breath. Compressions. “Come on, come on…”

More pounding at the door.

Mango stood at the window now, wrenching it open.

Bailiff came to life with a violent cough. Bailiff jolted, water and bile pouring from his mouth.He sucked in a ragged breath, shivering.

John leaned in. “Tell me where Peter’s going. Now.”

Bailiff blinked, barely conscious.

“The… Tyrrhenian Sea,” he croaked. “He’s going to the Tyrrhenian Sea. South coast. Near Elba Island.”

John nodded, relief flooding his face. “Thank-”

BANG!

Bailiff’s head snapped back and his blood splattered across the white tiles.

John whipped around.

Laz stood behind him, gun still raised. The silencer hissed in the aftermath.

“What the fuck, Laz!?” John shouted.

“He gave us what we needed,” Laz said calmly. “We’re not leaving a witness behind.”

“You didn’t have to kill him!”

“You said we don’t have time!”

CRACK!

The outer door burst open.

John turned back toward Mango. “We’re going! Now!”

She was already halfway out the window, dress hiked up to her thighs.

John slung himself out next, landing hard on the pavement behind the building. Laz dropped after them. The three of them took off down the street, disappearing into the Tokyo crowd. Behind them, the sound of men barking orders filled the night. But they didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

Gunfire cracked through the parking lot like thunder. The crowd of people around them started to break out into a frenzy, running in every direction. The trio ran into the nearest parking lot. The rich underworld's parking lot.

John, Mango, and Laz bolted across rows of high-end cars, bullets tearing up the pavement behind them. The expensive machines exploded into pieces as they were ripped into shreds by bullets of various caliber. Shattered glass, dented doors, alarms blaring in unison like a symphony.

“They’re closing in!” Mango shouted, her heels scraping the ground as she ducked behind a massive Escalade.

“We won’t make it back to the van,” Laz said. “They’re flanking the lot from both sides.”

John raised his pistol, fired two clean shots. One hit a thug in the knee, dropping him instantly, the other pinged uselessly off the hood of a Bentley. Laz and Mango also started to return fire.

As they dove behind a matte-black Hummer for cover, John’s phone vibrated in his pocket.

Lea again.

He answered it out of breath. “Lea? I’m a bit busy at the moment!”

“John,” her voice came through, tight and panicked. “What’s all that noise? Doesn’t matter, you got to move! That satellite of your dad’s is locked onto your location!”

“What?!”

“I don’t know how, but it’s pointing directly at the building’s location! Please tell me you’re far away. If not, you’ve got nine minutes, maybe less, before it fires.”

John froze. “That’s not possible! Peter’s not crazy enough to fire it so soon! Everyone’s still here!”

“The trigger sequence was activated twenty seconds ago. KJ hacked the system and barely caught the flag in time. We’ve contacted the local authorities and you’re in the kill zone!”

He instinctively looked at his wrist to check the time—only to find his wrist bare.

“What the…”

“What?” Mango asked innocently.

“My watch is missing.”

Laz started to reload. “Can we talk about that later?!”

John hung up and turned to the others. “That laser is about to fire on us. Lea says we’ve got maybe nine minutes left! We need a way out, fast!”

“We’re boxed in,” Laz said. “There’s no way we’re reaching the van.”

John’s FOCUS spoke in his mind.

<<<>>>

[Activating Talent: Underworld Legacy...]

[Skill Combination with Analyze]

[Analyzing environment…]

[Suggestion: Use unauthorized device given to you by Jade. Electronic Override Module, or EOM, on any modern push-start vehicle. Probability of success: 83%]

<<<>>>

This thing is for hacking? No wonder the tickets looked so legit.

John took Jade’s phone-like hacking device from his pocket. He powered it on.

“FOCUS!” he yelled, “Analyze!”

<<<>>>

[Activating Skill: Analyze...]

[Searching system access points... ERROR: Data Encrypted.]

<<<>>>

“What’s the holdup?” Mango snapped.

“It’s encrypted! My Analyze can’t tell me what buttons to press!”

“No shit! That’s not what “analyze” means! Give it to me!”

Mango grabbed the device and her pupils dilated as she yelled. “FOCUS, Decipher!”

She began to interact with it and her eyes were darting at lighting speed.

“Too long to remember,” Mango said.

“I can handle it,” Laz said. “FOCUS! Talent: Total Recall!”

She read the code aloud, smoothly and precise.

“4187-AXZ-K33-9901-RDL-003X-VENOM-J5HT...”

Laz repeated each segment as she spoke, voice dead calm. “Got it.”

John grabbed the device. “Let’s move!”

They sprinted.

The gunfire had slowed or stopped. The goons were regrouping, circling, trying to close the trap. John’s heart pounded in his chest like a drum. Then he saw a Hennessey Venom F5. Silver chrome body glinting under the parking lot lights.

John slammed the device against the side of the door. “Laz!”

Laz immediately began to speak. “4187-AXZ-K33-9901-RDL-003X-VENOM-J5HT...”

John entered the code with shaking hands. The light on the device turned green. The car beeped once and the doors unlocked.

“Get in!” John yelled.

Laz yanked open the passenger side. Mango dove into the back seat, and John slid into the driver’s seat and hit the ignition. The engine roared to life.

Then the sky gained a bright white star. John looked up through the windshield and saw it getting bigger and bigger.

There were regular civilians here! Was his brother that insane?

A focused beam of light created sparks that crackled from the satellite’s energy build-up, illuminating the city like midday sun.

“GO!” Laz yelled.

John slammed the gas pedal. The Venom F5 peeled out, tires shrieking. The acceleration slammed them back into their seats.

They drove for maybe two minutes before it happened. The beam touched down.

A violent explosion of light and energy. The arena was obliterated in a single pulse. Fire mushroomed into the sky. Glass vaporized. A concussive shockwave rippled out, blasting car alarms across the city.

The rearview mirror exploded with light reflecting back into John’s eyes.

John squinted as he floored it, weaving through city streets. John’s grip on the wheel was tight, knuckles white, eyes locked on the blurred lanes ahead. Every second felt stretched, elongated by adrenaline and fear. Behind them, the sky was splitting.

Then it came for them.

A flash.

A searing white light brighter than the sun bloomed behind them. The ground shook as it cracked. The sound was... nothing. No boom. Just pressure that sucked all the air from the world for one second. Then the blast hit.

The shockwave caught the Venom mid-turn, flinging it into the air like a toy. The world spun violently as they flipped, windshields shattering, metal groaning, glass slicing. John’s head slammed into the steering wheel.

And everything went black.

***

When he came to, it was eerily quiet. John coughed hard, his body trying to get what air it could. He was upside down in his seat belt. He could feel his blood dripping down his face and onto the roof. He unbuckled and landed on his head. The bump didn’t even shake his numb body and he crawled out. His ribs ached. His suit was torn. Blood trickled from a cut on his forehead, but he barely noticed it.

Dust drifted through the air like snow. The Venom was upside down, its once-flawless body mangled and torn. The passenger door had been blown clean off. The sky above was darkened by the ash cloud spreading across the city skyline.

He turned and froze. His eyes grew wide in fear and the shock of what he was seeing brought feeling back into his body.

<<<>>>

[Mission completed]

[Laser Avoided]

[Bailiff identified. Status: Deceased.]

[Acquire codes: FAILED]

[Stop Peter: FAILED]

[Massive casualties as a result of failure]

[Data gained.]

[Processing…]

<<<>>>

A crater stretched behind them, massive and jagged, like the earth itself had been split open. Buildings on the outer rim had collapsed into rubble, cars were overturned and blackened with soot. Fires flickered across what used to be city streets. What remained of the arena was nothing but melted steel and scorched concrete.

Everything else was gone.

People. Hundreds, maybe thousands, vaporized in a single moment.

John’s mouth was dry. He couldn’t speak. His legs trembled beneath him. This… this wasn’t just collateral damage. This was deliberate annihilation.

He stared, trying to process it, the weight of it crashing into his chest. His brother did this.

Peter.

The same boy who once stood guard by his room to chase off imagined monsters. The same one who used to throw him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and make him laugh until his sides hurt.

Now that same brother had wiped a mile-long scar into Tokyon and erased lives like they were smudges on a page.

“How…” John muttered, voice raw. “How could he do this?”

A door creaked open behind him. Laz stumbled out of the passenger side, face grim and dark.

As he stumbled out, he also went into shock. His eyes scanned the destruction with cold disbelief. His dress shirt was burnt at the shoulder. There was blood on his temple.

“I can’t believe it. This is on us,” Laz said quietly.

“What?”

“We failed,” Laz growled, fists curling at his sides. “We were supposed to stop this. Intercept the codes. Neutralize Peter. The whole damn point was to stop him from doing this!”

He gestured toward the crater, reaching out for it. “And now look.”

John stayed silent. He didn’t have an answer. What was he to say?

“I’m done,” Laz said. “They’re going to hang me for this. Every agency, every black ops committee—hell, even the fucking U.N. I’ll be disavowed, scrubbed, blacklisted. Everything I’ve done, gone. And for what?”

From behind the flipped car, Mango emerged, limping. Her makeup had run down her cheeks in twin streams, and her silver dress, once dazzling, was caked in ash and dust.

She walked slowly, silently, holding something in her arms.

It was a small white toy rabbit.

Its fur was singed, one ear burned halfway off. She dropped to her knees beside the wreck, holding the rabbit to her chest.

“There were families here… kids played,” she said. “Kids. People just… living their lives.”

She stroked the rabbit’s fur, eyes hollow.

“I’ve done some bad shit,” she said. “But I’ve never done anything like this. Never killed someone who didn’t deserve it.”

Her shoulders shook.

“Now they’re gone. Why? A show of power? A message?”

John felt his legs give out beneath him. He sat in the dirt, staring at the burning horizon. The stench of scorched asphalt and cooked flesh stung his nose.

His brother had done this. Worse, John had once believed there was still good in him. That he could somehow redeem the one he looked up to.

“I thought maybe there was a line he wouldn’t cross,” said John.

Laz snorted. “There’s no line anymore. You see that now, right?”

John didn’t answer.

Mango stood up, her eyes red. “So what do we do now?”

Laz looked at both of them. His expression was sharp again. Focused. Angry. “We stop him. We end this. We fucked up. Big time. We have to make this right. We owe it to those people. I’ll be damned if he gets away before I get blacklisted.”

John and mango nodded slowly. They couldn’t undo what had happened.

But they could make damn sure Peter never got another chance to do it again.