The number of Disciples had grown beyond all reason. We must’ve passed over one hundred in the hall and stairs alone, without those milling around at the front as we emerged. They were a mix of men and women, boys and girls. They were an army in their own right, minus the regulation haircuts. All creeds and colours were represented, and I had to smile at the achievement of racial harmony by the simple means of gang affiliation and devil worship. A fresh quest arrived, pointlessly obvious in its objective. The prize was worth the fight, however.

Bart? We’re getting loot. Did my complaint work?

Yes and no. I’m forcing through what I can. Keep up the fight.

Cris gave me a hopeful look and I shrugged. It was better than nothing.

Quest – Escape The Clutches Of The Disciples (Main)

Description – Your mission requires you to get away from the satanic gangsters and return to the search for Sheldon Lake.

Reward – Party Member Loot Box (Epic)

We were regarded with anger and a healthy dose of fear as we marched down the steps toward the waiting cars. Four bizarrely dressed strangers and an old man, walking away from a war against nearly two dozen armed soldiers. The question about our lack of weapons hadn’t yet come up, and I wasn’t about to raise it with my captors. I hoped they just assumed it was because they had us surrounded and we didn’t want to inadvertently trigger a fight, so we’d dumped them in the apartment. The fact they were safely stashed in our cosmic holdall was another card we could play if we needed to.

“Oh, you can keep the blacked out SUVs,” I said to Rhys. “The keys are upstairs somewhere. Consider it a gift.”

“You’re too kind,” he replied, “but I think we’ll leave them for the CID clean-up team when they arrive.”

“If they arrive,” I corrected. “Blake seems to think they’ll wash their hands of this place.”

“Blake?”

“One of their men. He’s tied up upstairs.”

Rhys nodded to two associates who doubled back inside. “You can either have the trunks, or you can ride with me, your choice,” he offered, pointing between the modified cars and his own limousine.

“Is there alcohol in the boots?” I asked.

Rhys frowned. “Boots?”

“Back of the cars. Opens up, has a spare tyre.”

“Another word for trunk?”

“Yeah.”

“Then no, there is no drink to be had in the boots, as you call them. My ride, however? You can have whatever you want. Whiskey, brandy, vodka…”

“Water?” asked Cris.

“If you wish to keep your wits about you, of course,” Rhys said graciously. “Sparkling or still?”

“Still,” she replied.

A hulking bodyguard opened the door and Rhys ushered us all in. The interior smelled of sweet cigars and expensive cologne. The seats were arranged in an L shape to allow for the door, with an extra pair facing them. A neon lit bar sat against the back of the driver’s cab. I shuffled forward after Cris, both of us bent low, and sank into the plush leather. She sat beside me, and I felt comforted by her presence. Leaning back, I was ready to enjoy a ride I’d never had before. Sun’s height meant her braids were pressing against the soft ceiling, so she scooted forward slightly, knocking knees with me. Jessop climbed aboard with a groan borne of age. In spite of our situation, he still seemed rather chipper as he slumped into the chair next to Sun.

“How the other half live, eh?” he said.

“Whoever said crime doesn’t pay was full of shit,” I replied, eliciting a chuckle as Rhys finally climbed aboard after Cody.

“It does have its advantages,” he said as he sat down, facing us all. “Please, help yourself to drinks. Everything you need is in the cupboard or the fridge. Would anyone like a cigar?” He withdrew an expensive wooden box from the console at his side and flipped the lid.

“Don’t smoke,” I said, reaching for a water.

“Me either,” said Cris, passing the bottles down I handed her.

Sun, Cody, and Jessop similarly declined as they took their spring water.

“In that case, I’ll wait until we get where we’re going. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“That’s very kind of you,” I said, sarcastically. “Where are you taking us, anyway?”

Rhys snipped off the end of a cigar in preparation as the vehicle pulled away. “The Cathedral.”

“That sounds awfully religious. I thought you folk worshipped the other side?”

“Oh, we do. But don’t worry about that right now, you’ll see it for yourself in a while.”

“Why not take us straight to Milley?”

“Let’s just say my employer is intrigued by your recklessness. Brazen acts like that are very rare, so he wants to meet you before we hand you over.”

“I’m not sure we want to meet him.”

“Luckily for you, the choice is out of your hands. What I’d like to know before we arrive is how come your merry band wound up attacking one of the secret sites of the CID in the first place? You don’t look like the sort one would find besieging a secure facility.”

“They kidnapped a friend,” I replied.

Rhys motioned toward Jessop with a questioning look.

“No, the good professor here is her boss. We don’t know where she is right now.”

“And the four of you took out the entirety of their staff? After getting past my people outside and their security systems?”

I held his gaze, allowing a smirk of my own to creep in. “It was nothing.”

I had him rattled, or at least thoughtful, as he lit his cigar unconsciously. Tasting the smoke, he looked at the thing in confusion before crushing it out in the ashtray. “Four against how many? Ten? Twenty? There’s more to you than meets the eye.”

“You have no idea,” I replied, cryptically.

He didn’t know how to deal with my remark, and turned to other avenues of questioning. “Where are you from?” asked Rhys, his guard firmly erected.

Cody stepped in. “We’re part of the Osterland wildlife rangers. This is all part of a poaching operation that’s gone to shit.”

Rhys scowled. “Poachers kidnapped the professor here. And your friend? Why? And how does that involve the CID?”

“It’s not just weapons and drugs that Milley deals in. Pelts, horn, lion testicles, anything that can be stripped and sold, it seems he takes his cut. We just didn’t know he was their backer, and that they don’t operate without his permission. It’s why we’ve always struggled to stop it. Their technology leaves ours in the dust.”

Rhys wasn’t buying any of it, but he chuckled at the bollock remark. “He’s a greedy bastard, that’s for sure. It must be quite frustrating, trying to save the animals, only to now find out they were always two steps ahead of you.”

Cody sighed. “It leaves a sour taste in the mouth, that’s for sure.”

“And just to clarify, how is a professor and your friend involved in this?”

Jessop was quick to jump on this thread and steer the conversation away from our true purpose. “We’ve been tracking the gradual deterioration of the species within the park. With fewer mates, they’ve taken to inbreeding on a dangerous scale. It was at the point we were going to lose many of the endangered breeds. We’d been pushing for extra funding, and the government was about to vote on a new package of measures. Speaking to a senator friend of mine, they were going to divert money from the CID budget to our own.”

It was a passably believable story, and I think Rhys was at least starting to buy the bullshit we were selling.

“So Milley would get hit twice? I guess he wasn’t too happy about that.”

“It doesn’t look like it,” I replied.

“And now you’ve killed a bunch of his men, I’ll bet he’s even less happy.”

“The offer still stands to let us go and not get involved,” I added.

“Facing the ire of a global intelligence agency who kill for fun, or four no doubt capable strangers and their elderly professor? I think I’ll stick with the original plan, but thanks for the offer.”

“You’re welcome. Do you mind if I ask a few questions of my own?”

“Feel free. I’ll answer if I can.”

“How did you end up in all this? You seem far too sophisticated for a satanic gang.”

Rhys chuckled at that. “I was a lawyer for several years, working for a prestigious partnership. I defended one of my current employer’s members, quite well it turned out, so they extended me an offer. I make many times what I used to, and I don’t even have to kiss the judge’s ass any more. It’s a win-win.”

“No late nights looking over case law either, I bet,” added Cris.

“Oh there are many a late night, but I don’t stare at books now. Those days are long gone.”

“How many of you are there? We have big gangs where I’m from, but your organisation seem to be on a whole other level.”

The gentle stroke to his ego worked as I’d intended and he smiled. “We’re far larger than most imagine. Many thousands strong.”

That was as I expected, and it played into my hands perfectly. “Do you have many run-ins with the Blood Nation?”

Rhys’s eye twitched a little at the mention of their direct competition. “In the past, yes. Now that we both work for Milley, we’ve got our territory, and they have theirs. We’re like water and oil; we might be in the same pool, but we don’t mix.”

“Aren’t you supposed to keep information like that secret?” I asked.

“Who are you going to tell?” Rhys exclaimed, merrily. “It won’t do you any good with us, nor with the general once we’ve handed you over.”

“Fair point. Can I ask something really personal now?”

Rhys leaned back, crossed his legs, and held his hands open for me to proceed.

“How much do you folk believe in all that satanic bullshit? I’ve seen the graffiti and the tattoos.” I leaned forward, lowering my voice slightly. “Level with me. It’s all for show, right?”

He grinned, darkly. “To some, power and wealth come from their connections and family. To others, they have to do certain things and make certain deals. I don’t have a rich family. I come from these piss-streaked streets.”

“You sold your soul?”

“You could say that. How else do you think we took over half a city?”

I was about to say an even mix of wanton brutality and a lack of compassion on the part of the authorities, topped with a sprinkling of agency corruption, but I kept it to myself. “Do you mean literally? Like the Devil came to you with a big book and asked you to scrawl your name in blood?”

“Nothing so dramatic, but the results speak for themselves, no?” he motioned at the limo.

“That’s pretty mental. No wonder people fear you. Do the Disciples all make the same deal?”

“Looking to join up to save your skins?” Rhys chuckled.

“No thanks, we kinda do our own thing.”

“I respect that, and in answer to your question, only the inner circle of thirteen make the deal. Anyone can rise and take a vacated space provided they show a certain amount of… how can I say it?”

“Murderousness?”

“Is that even a word?” he asked, frowning.

“Fucked if I know.”

“But you’re right in a way. A penchant for violence and low morals are a helpful addition if you want to become a Disciple.”

“You’re in the thirteen then?”

“Not yet. I serve, and I wait.”

I necked the last few drops of the spring water and tossed the bottle in the small bin. “Must make loyalty an issue though, eh? Backstabbing’s rife? People selling each other out, that kind of thing?”

“Not at all!” Rhys argued vehemently. “For a lot of these people, we’re the closest thing they’ve ever had to a family. To structure. Anyone stepping out of line acts as a warning to the others. We hadn’t had an incident in a long while.” His expression hardened. “Until this week, at least. On that subject, you might get to partake in one of our ceremonies. You can see for yourself how we maintain loyalty. I would say you might find it gruesome, but you don’t strike me as the squeamish sort.”

I smiled my own dark smile, and turned to look at the city flash by, his wondering eyes boring into me, looking for answers that weren’t there.