NaNo - Day 11

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- Alpha - 

The man slammed his fist on his desk, the crystal paperweight moving slightly at the force of his action. He couldn't deal with this right now! He had enough to address with training these pathetic excuses for human beings the higher-ups dared to call "recruits." Closing his eyes, he rubbed the wrinkles out of his forehead and tried to calm himself. Everything was fine; he hadn't gotten where he was now by panicking at the first sign of trouble...although he'd be immature to act like this was the first sign. This was probably the third or fourth.

Releasing a short exhale, he opened his eyes and scrolled through the news story. Minor news, just a quick little blurb on the back of a final page. A mere mention, actually, which then connected to a separate incident in a different country. Trafficking victims rescued from a shipping container destined for the Port of Houston. The story said no individual had identification, none spoke English, and none could say where they were going past the United States when questioned through an interpreter.

The article revealed no information regarding their places of origin or how they'd come to be in the shipping container in the first place. Good. As long as that information didn't make national news, all of this should blow over and become even less of a headline than it was now. It'd all soon become inconsequential after the next domestic shooting which was bound to happen in the next month.

Although he hated those types of incidents were occurring, he was relieved they were. All attention turned to the cities in which the shootings took place. TV crews contacted politicians to get them on camera so they could express their "deepest regrets" and that "We need to do something to stop these things from happening. We need stricter gun laws! More invasive background checks!"

What the politicians didn't realize is that criminals like himself wouldn't follow their insignificant laws, and there were always methods to go around them. If the police confiscated his weapons, so what? He could always get more. All he had to do was walk to the local Walmart, and he'd be able to buy a knife. Or the flea market on the other side of town sold them, too. Knives weren't as fast as firearms, but they could be just as deadly. And they were much quieter.

Frustrated, he flung the paperweight across the room and watched it slam into the wall; it was solid enough that the crystal didn't even chip, but the wall wasn't as lucky. He'd needed those damn routes. The last head honcho of the Flight had partnered with him willingly, and they'd had a good relationship for the past twelve years! No questions asked; Total Eclipse had even shared some of its profits. It was a very good venture for both organizations, but now...now this...Nightswan dared to defy him. Dared to stand in the way of Total Eclipse's most lucrative year in its history.

He'd attempted to go around the bloody Swan and use the routes anyway. Surely not every man in the Flight had heard of the protocol change. Not only that he had trained his top members well in the art of deception, and they in turn had taught everyone else. Even if the routes had closed, they probably could've talked their way into transporting one or two goods along through the channels, but no. The routes Total Eclipse had previously used were completely abandoned. Some might consider this to be a good thing, but that meant there was no one to supervise the cargo. No one to transport from one hub to the next. No one to give updates on the cargo's progress. Desertion meant guaranteed failure.

He needed to have another conversation with Nightswan—try to talk some sense into the obstinate man. But then again, he'd already given Nightswan a chance. In a world surrounded by criminals, Swan couldn't expect a second. The Flight's chief wasn't a wall he couldn't climb; he was nothing but a hurdle...and hurdles could be eliminated.

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