The Mafia

As they say, only a made man can induct another man into the mafia, but the Mafia in Solana is different in this regard. As agents of mayhem and destruction, the Mafia sow chaos wherever they go.

Irrespective of class and creed, everyone is welcomed to join the Mafia.  Led by one they call the Don, all it takes is guts, a love for violence, and a degree of insanity to walk the damned path of sin.

So come, take the oath of omerta, and join the brotherhood of organized crime where unspeakable glory awaits.

The Don

Breathing deeply, the Don rose from his chair. The air was heavy with cigar smoke and a thick silence permeated the room. In the corner, lay a giant python, with her small beady eyes gazing into the abyss and her forked tongue tasting the air. The Don eyed the grandfather clock, long out of sync, but he was not trying to tell the time. For he knew in exactly two minutes, four police stations would be attacked simultaneously. There will be casualties, but it has to be done.

And they said we are disorganized, the Don sneered to himself.

The deep rumble of detonations rolled across the city into the midnight sky. It has begun. Now all that is needed is patience. The police, emboldened by the election of a new mayor, have started law enforcement with a newfound zeal, and the Don is mightily displeased. He meant to display his rage for the entire city to see, no one escapes the heat of the Don.

Soon there was a commotion at the door, then came a familiar knocking, twice long followed by one short rap. The door swung open, and in came two men carrying a limp body. The men were known as the messengers, high ranking mafia members who willingly blind themselves to serve the Don. For no one shall lay eyes on the Don. And the limp body, the wife of the mayor, bound and gagged and unconscious.

She’s here, my sire, whispered the messengers.

The coordinated assault on the police stations was merely a distraction for the real plot to kidnap the major’s wife. The Don set down his glass of bourbon, and without a word grabbed a cleaver and brought it down, severing the hand of his prisoner.

Deliver it to Downing Street, commanded the Don. As the messengers took their grim souvenir and left the room, the Don looked pitifully at his prisoner, now lying in a pool of deep red ruby. The Don smiled.

Tomorrow is going to be a good day.