The King of The Tartarian Empire

John drove the blue Ferrari up a winding hilltop.

The road twisted and turned without a guardrail along the edge until they finally reached the top. Perched on the summit was an old, abandoned hangar. It was weather-worn and long forgotten. It looked as if no one had used it for over a decade. Yet carved out of the hill was a long, clear runway, built for what looked like quick and easy takeoff.

John and Mango parked beside the hangar. Mango scrunched her face.

“What are we doing here?” she asked. “I thought we were going to catch a plane. I doubt there’s one here now.”

John let some air escape from his nose, but then his expression turned serious.

“When we get in there,” he said, “just let me do all the talking.”

Mango looked him over. John, somehow, managed to always stay mysterious. But this time, there was something else she saw. His nerves. She wasn’t sure where it was coming from, but considering how familiar they both were with the underworld, and him more so, if he was nervous, then she figured she should be too.

John stepped out of the car, walked around, and opened her door. She got out, and he immediately closed it behind her.

He held out his hand. “Do you have the jewels?”

Mango reached into her bra and pulled them out. “Here you go,” she said. “But I don’t get it. If we’re doing a deal, isn’t using jewels a little cliché?”

John shrugged. “A man likes what he likes.” He gave her a sly smile. “You should know that more than anyone.”

She returned the smile and flipped her hair. “Maybe just a little.”

John cleared his throat. “Oh, and by the way… whatever you do, don’t resist.”

“What?”

“Do not resist,” John repeated. “If you try, it’ll only piss them off.”

“Um… okay. What exactly are we walking into?”

“To be fair,” said John, “if this were years ago, I could tell you. But nowadays, I’m not entirely sure.”

He led her to the side of the hangar and knocked on the metal door.

BOOM!

The doors flew open. Two large men, both Asian and dressed in black, rushed out. Without a word, they grabbed Mango and John, forcing black bags over their heads.

“Hey!” Mango shouted.

They yelled something back at her in a language she didn’t understand. Her instincts screamed at her to fight, but she forced herself to remember John’s words.

************************************************************

The next thing Mango knew, the black bags were ripped off their heads. She and John were tied to wooden chairs, arms restrained behind their backs.

They were somewhere dark, illuminated by a single harsh spotlight overhead. Mango’s heart raced. She squirmed and tried to wriggle free, but everything was tightly secured.

“Don’t move,” John said, turning toward her. “Remember what I said? Just relax. Let me do the talking.”

Somehow, he was calm again.

Mango was beginning to understand his true nature. He might show nerves beforehand, but in the moment, when it truly mattered, he was focused. It wasn’t a trait easily taught.

An Asian man stepped into the spotlight. A sly smile began to form on John’s face. “Hey, long time, no—”

“Shut up,” snapped the man immediately.

He was leaner than John, shirtless, and visibly ripped, with barely an ounce of body fat. Dressed only in black slacks, a belt, and polished dress shoes, he exuded confidence. From behind his waistband, he pulled out a handgun, cocked it, and pointed it directly at John.

“I’m going to give you exactly ten seconds to tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right now. Ten.”

“We have jewels to trade,” said John quickly.

“Nine. Eight. Seven.”

“You’re seriously still counting?” John said with a cocky snarl. “You’re really going to pass up this money?”

“Six. Five. Four.” The man flipped off the safety.

“Look, can we just skip the dramatics and get to the part where you help me?”

“Three. Two. One.”

“Because you owe me!” John yelled.

The Asian man froze. Slowly, he lowered the gun.

“Excuse me?” he said. “Are you out of your damn mind? What would I possibly owe you for?”

“You may not know it,” said John, “but you do. More importantly, you’ve clearly forgotten what happened in Belize.”

“Belize?” the man scoffed. “No way you just brought that up. That mess was completely your fault. No way I owe you for that.”

“No,” John said, shaking his head. “I saved your life getting us out of there.”

“You got us into that situation!” the man yelled, his face turning red.

Mango observed them closely. She didn’t understand what they were referring to, but it was obvious they knew each other in a serious way. If John had actually wronged this man in the past, they were on thin ice.

“Even so, it still counts. Doesn’t matter who started it.”

“It absolutely matters who created the mess,” the man said. He jabbed his finger at his own chest. “I’m an exemplary businessman.”

Then, he jabbed his finger at John’s face.

“You’re a nobody who screws up all the time! You don’t even have control over your own family, as far as I know. You have nothing to bargain with. Just another lie, like always.”

“A win is a win,” John said with a smirk.

The man closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.

“I guess you’re right for once in your life,” he said.

Then without warning, pistol-whipped John hard across the face.

Mango flinched. Seeing John get struck so viciously sent a shockwave across her body. If they were willing to hit him, what might they do to her?

She glanced around. Beyond the spotlight’s reach, she could see several large silhouettes lurking in the dark. She had no idea how many. Maybe a dozen. Maybe more. What she did know was clear: they were completely surrounded.

And now John was arguing with the one man who seemed like their only hope of getting out of this alive.

“Look at that,” said John. “You see? You're too excitable. You get so angry so fast. How are you going to bring back the Tartarian Empire with a temper like that?”

The Asian man's eyes widened in shock. For a moment, he just stood there, speechless. Then he sighed and scratched the side of his head with the barrel of his gun.

“Only you know how to get under my skin,” he said in a disappointed tone.

“Of course I do,” John said. “It’s my specialty, remember?”

The man waved into the darkness. Another figure stepped forward and placed a chair in front of them. The Asian man sat down, rested the gun in his lap, and shook his head. He buried his face in his hands, then looked up at John for a second before covering his face again.

“I can’t believe this,” he said, his voice cracking.

His shoulders trembled. A huff escaped him. When he looked up again, Mango saw it wasn’t rage on his face but grief. His eyes were watery. His expression was twisted in painful relief.

“How the hell could you do this to me?” he asked John. “Out of everyone…how could you have done this to me?”

“I’m sorry,” said John solemnly. “But you know things don’t always go as planned.”

The man let out a dry, broken laugh and wiped at his tears. “I guess not, you son of a bitch. I can’t believe it… this is the greatest day of my life. It’s good to see you alive, Johnny.”

“It’s good to see you too, Tej,” John said. “Sorry about being dead for six years. But some things happened, and I had to go away. There was no time to talk.”

Tej sniffed, the emotion fading into a hard frown.

“No time to talk? Well, you better make time. Because your stupid brother blew up half of downtown Tokyo.”

He stood and pointed at John, anger now seeping into his voice.

“I had friends and family over there during that time. My business suffered. Who's going to answer for that?”

“He already has,” said John calmly. “We handled it internally.”

“You did? And how do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“He is!” Mango suddenly blurted out. Both men turned to her in surprise.

“Who the fuck is this?” Tej snapped.

“She was there,” said John.

Tej stood slowly, glaring at Mango. He walked toward her and leveled his gun at her forehead.

“Oh yeah? Then why don’t you tell me the details?”

“What are you doing?” John asked.

“Sorry, bud, but she’s seen me. If she were there, and Peter is really dead, she should know.”

Tej pressed the barrel of the gun against Mango’s forehead.

“What does Peter look like?” he asked.

Mango froze. She could feel the cold, hollow barrel pressing against her skin. A thin layer of bone and flesh was the only thing separating her from death.

“Uh… uh…” Mango started.

“I’m waiting,” said Tej. “This isn’t the time to be silent now.”

“That’s enough,” said John.

“Shut up,” Tej said. “You speak now, or you die.”

“He’s taller than John,” Mango began nervously. “And… Black. He has long dreads and a red suit he likes. He wears gold-rimmed glasses and has diamond teeth.”

“So?” Tej replied with a laugh. “That could’ve been from any picture.”

“He also has a temper! Once, when they were kids, he protected John from imaginary monsters. But…” She paused, her throat dry. “John fought him on his yacht and threw him overboard for murdering all those people. John’s trying to stop anyone else from getting the satellite laser… the one that can destroy stuff. Like what happened in Tokyo.”

Tej’s expression twisted in confusion. “What did you just say?” he asked slowly.

“I said John is trying to prevent it from happening again,” Mango repeated. “He already took down Peter. But someone else, named Laz, stole the codes off his multi-deck yacht. You see, there was this party—”

“-No. Not that,” Tej said. “The imaginary monster thing.”

Mango looked over at John. He looked down and shook his head in disapproval. She didn’t know what that meant. Had she just said the wrong thing? Was she about to die?

“Well… uh…” she tried again. “When he was a kid, John had a fear of imaginary monsters. His brother was the only one who would sleep in the same room with him, holding a bat for protection.”

Tej blinked, glancing between her and John.

“Are you serious?” he asked. “You'd better not be lying to me.”

“I’m not!” Mango shouted, her voice cracking. “John told me that himself!”

Tej turned back to John, studying him. John looked like he was sucking a lemon. Then Tej burst out laughing. The entire room joined in, howling with laughter and joy. Tej clapped his hands once, and suddenly the lights turned on.

They were in a large, clean office filled with pictures along the walls. Around them stood ten massive men. They each held heavy weapons. Moments ago, they looked like executioners. Now, they laughed like drunks, slapping each other’s backs and wiping away tears. Tej, still laughing, walked toward his desk, holding his stomach. Mango glanced at John only to see him staring back at her with a seething glare.

She raised an eyebrow. As Tej turned, Mango spotted a massive yellow dragon tattoo stretching across his entire back. It was a dragon in a snowstorm with green claws.

Tej sat down behind his desk.

“Monsters, really?” Tej chuckled at John. “You’re such a baby.”

“That was a long time ago!” John snapped. “I was just a kid.” He shot Mango a glare. “I told you that in confidence.”

“So it’s true,” Tej said with a grin. “Well, I guess she must know what she’s talking about.”

Realization clicked for Mango. A small smile curled at the corner of her lips. “Sorry,” she said awkwardly.

Tej turned to one of his men. “Why don’t you go collect these supposed jewels they have?”

“Where are they anyway?” the man asked.

“They’re in my bra,” said Mango bluntly.

The goon walked over to her, an eager grin on his face, and extended his hand. Mango tensed, expecting the worst. But instead of groping or lingering, he swiftly reached into her bra, snapped the bag of jewels out, and walked back to Tej without a word.

Any other creep would’ve definitely copped a feel, but he didn’t. He did exactly as instructed. Nothing more, nothing less. That told Mango one thing: these guys were professionals. And that made them even more terrifying.

Tej opened the bag and studied the contents. “Hmm,” he said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen such an interesting score before. Emeralds and rubies… the red and green Christmas sale.”

“Is it enough for a flight?” asked John.

“Well,” said Tej with a sly grin, “seeing how you’ve been resurrected from the dead, I’ll consider it a ‘back from the grave’ discount. Are you going to stop being rude and introduce me?”

“Oh, I was going to,” John replied, “but I’m a little tied up at the moment.”

Tej snapped his fingers. “Right. My bad.”

Two men walked up behind them and cut the ropes, freeing John and Mango from their chairs. They both stood, Mango rubbing her sore wrists.

“Sorry about that,” Tej said to Mango. “Appearances, politics and mind games. You know how it is. I can give you an ointment for that.”

Mango gave a nod.

“What about me?” asked John. “Where’s my apology?” Tej flipped him the middle finger.

“Mango, this is Temujin,” said John. “He and I had… some fun together in our youth.”

“That was until this guy died,” Tej said. “At least, that’s what we were told. But clearly, that wasn’t true. So, you want to tell me what happened?”

“I can’t,” said John. “But what I can say is that I’m back now, and that’s all that really matters.”

Tej nodded slowly. “It has something to do with an internal struggle, doesn’t it? That stunt is still on the news. I don’t know much about what you Neros are up to, but if it ends with a damn space laser falling out of the sky and killing thousands of people, I want that shit handled immediately.”

“Only because those people were on your turf,” John said.

“Obviously.”

Now that Mango could see Tej in the light, she realized he was about their age, but the way he carried himself, his posture, his voice, his presence was much older. He might as well have been a warlord from an older world.

John turned to Mango.

“Tej and I are quite similar,” he said. “Just like my family is the last of the Moors, Tej is the sole heir to the legacy of the Tartarian Empire.”

“The Tartarian empire?” Mango asked. “I’ve never heard of that before.”

Tej slammed his fist down on the desk with a loud thud.

“That’s because they tried to erase us!” he said, his voice raised. “But they will not and they cannot. If you look at maps made before 1600, you’ll see my family’s vast and glorious empire! At its prime, it was beautiful…”

He stood from behind his desk and started pacing as he talked to himself. “We ruled all of Russia and Asia with an iron fist. And one day… we’ll be bigger. Better. Stronger than ever.”

“When we were young,” said John, “we made plans. The Nero family would rule the West, and Tej and his Tartarian Empire would own the East. Not exactly a new idea, but it was a good dream.”

“It’s not a dream,” said Tej. “It’s going to be a reality. Mark my words.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the desk. “Now about this flight… where are you even going?”

“We're heading to Ireland,” said Mango. “Specifically, we need to be dropped off in Dublin before continuing on to where we need to go.”

“Dublin?” Tej raised an eyebrow. “Why the hell are you going over there?”

“I have a better question,” said John, “What the hell are you still doing in Italy?”

“Point taken,” Tej replied with a chuckle. “You’re lucky we go way back, or I wouldn’t be agreeing to this. I’ll get you a plane and safe passage, but you and I are going to have a serious talk in about a month. Meet me at our old spot in Belize, and we’ll talk again about who really owes whom.”

John smiled and nodded. “Sounds like a deal.”

Mango smiled too. It was great having someone with that level of connection nearby. John had access to resources that even the CIA wouldn’t be able to see, and his name alone seemed to unlock doors in the underground.

A mafia prince and a CIA agent, a man who truly lived in both worlds with legitimacy. Mango couldn’t recall knowing anyone else quite like him.

“Oh, one more thing,” Tej said as they turned to leave.

“When you land… next time you see your sister, tell her I said ‘hello’,” he said with a knowing grin.

John frowned. “My sister?”

Tej laughed. “It’s not like that. I just heard she’s got some new tech. And you know me. I’ve always got the green for it. I hear her new stuff is crazy good.”

“Sure,” said John, narrowing his eyes. “Just keep it that way.”

Tej waved over one of his men. “Make sure these two get to Dublin,” he ordered. “Even if it kills you. They will make it. I’m making this promise on my honor.”

“You got it,” the goon replied. “I will not fail. Can you two please follow me?”

***********************************************************

The next thing Mango knew, she was reclining on a private jet, sipping champagne.

“Now this is more like it,” Mango said, stretching comfortably.

The carpet was a rich pink shag wool, and the plush leather lounge chairs felt like heaven after everything they’d been through.

John nodded. “Yeah… well, not everything that glitters is gold, but it definitely beats flying coach.”

Mango turned to him with a serious expression. “How do you plan on dealing with Laz?”

“The same way I deal with everything,” said John, calmly swirling the champagne in his glass. “Praying to God that my improvisation works.”

John pulled a computer out from behind his chair and put it in front of them.

“So I used the coordinates you got from the CIA computer, but there’s one problem,” said John.

“Which is?” asked Mango.

“The coordinates you gave me at the time were coming from a mobile base in Drogheda. When I saw that it was moving, I basically backtracked its flight path. It goes back to a blimp warehouse.”

“That would explain why his signal is moving.”

“Unfortunately for us, we seemed to have backed the wrong plane. A jet isn't the stealthiest of aircrafts and it’ll fly too fast to approach the blimp from under it. We need, like… some sort of slow-moving plane. Another blimp or glider or, hell, even a biplane or something.”

Mango bit her lip. She put down her drink and stood up, pacing.

“What? What is it?” asked John.

“Why’d you have to say biplane? Are you sure we don’t have anything else?”

“I’m open to suggestions, but I doubt he’ll come down out of the sky for a Scooby-snack.”

Mango sighed deeply. “I know where we can get a biplane, but no questions on how I know this person, got it?”