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**********
"Boss. We have a cockroach problem."
With a sigh, I turned my chair around to face Francis, my right-hand man. He stopped next to me and dropped a pile of photos on my desk. I wrinkled my nose at them, and slowly spread them out. Screenshots, mostly. Men I didn't know, nor had ever heard of. One of those shots drew my attention. A group of masked people burning black flags in the darkness of the night, the flames illuminating a familiar building in the background.
I growled at the insolence.
"Is that our City Hall?" I asked.
"Yes," Francis replied, his voice and expression as hateful as mine.
"When was this?" I asked, pulling the picture closer.
"The video was uploaded last night. The media picked it up an hour later."
"Who's the leader?" I asked, and Francis leaned in to pull one of the photos closer.
It showed a balding thirty-something year old man holding a burning black flag as he sneered at the camera.
"Name?"
"Don't know yet, Boss, but we're working on it," Francis said. "They call themselves Rightful Sons."
I rolled my eyes. "How original. Find them. I want to pay them a visit."
"Sure thing, Boss," Francis said, and left.
I gave one last glance at the photos before swiping them into my trash can. Where they belonged. My intention was to continue working, but only minutes later, I found myself browsing through the news, trying to find the article about these rightful sons. It annoyed me, but my burning hate wouldn't allow me to focus on anything else.
I found it. The site had a whole video report about them. More than they deserved.
"A new group of True Order supporters has emerged in..."
I wrinkled my nose at the reporter's chosen words. Supporters? No. Terrorists.
"...as seen on the video I'm about to show you next. Please be advised, what you're about to see may be disturbing to some viewers."
The video cut to another one. A group of five people stood next to the City Hall with black flags in their hands, while more were tearing down the flags hanging on the walls behind them.
"We are the Rightful Sons! We are here to show our support to True Order, who were wrongfully forced to disband over the claims of all the omega bitches and those who support them! Our so-called government is the true terrorist group here, not us! We will fight for our birthright to lead this country! We will fight for our right to exist! We will fight to bring back the natural order! We will keep fighting until the terroristic government steps down and lets our true leaders take back their rightful place! For True Order!"
The men set the black flags in flames and waved them around like the morons they were.
"True Order! True Order! True Order!!"
My hate boiled as I watched the flames. They dared to burn the sacred flags, the flags we raised to mourn the thousands of people lost in a single day in the hands of the True Order terrorists... in my city?
The man in the middle stepped closer to the camera and took off his mask. It was the leader.
"This day will go down in history as the day we, the Rightful Sons, the real alphas, will step up and change this world back to how it's supposed to be! We will make sure the braindead omegas won't get to ruin our beloved country any longer! This world is ours! This world belongs to the strongest! The real alphas! We will drive every single bitch omega and all those weak-minded omega lovers who dare to call themselves alphas out of this country!"
"We'll see about that," I muttered, rolling my eyes as I closed the site.
My men worked tirelessly to find out where this new terrorist group was hiding. Even I joined the hunt and made all the phone calls and pulled all the strings I could think of, but nothing. Sure, this group was new. No one knew them. No one had heard of them before. But I had to find them before they'd start hiding bombs in my city. That was unacceptable.
This was my city. My territory. I would not allow any harm to my civilians.
Later the day, the governor spoke to the media about this new group, assuring everyone that she was doing everything in her power to stop them before they could take a single life, that her cops and her army were already hunting down these monsters, and asked if anyone had any information, they should contact the authorities immediately.
Good. There had to be people who knew something. I was sure we'd finally have more information within hours.
But no. Nothing.
It was frustrating. Every minute counted. There could already be dozens of bombs getting delivered to the busiest spots in my city. That's what they did. Once the new groups had announced themselves, within a day or two, they'd start their attacks. People would die. Both alphas and omegas. These monsters didn't care who they killed. Most of them didn't even care about politics or True Order. They just wanted to kill and cause chaos.
But not in my city.
Nothing happened that day. The sun had set hours ago, and no news about terror and chaos had risen. I was still up with some of my men, who had returned from their exhaustive hunt. I had to make the call to end the day and let my men go home.
I let out a sigh, then called for their attention. "I think we need to call it a–"
A phone rang, interrupting me and silencing the room. Gus, the man who it belonged to, picked it up and answered.
"This is Gus." He stared at the air as he listened, then his eyes widened and he turned to me. "You have a cockroach problem? Where?"
I let out a long sigh and laughed lightly.
Finally.
*****
An hour later, me and ten of my men arrived at a smaller nightclub at the edge of the city. I was familiar with the place, and knew it was pretty popular, especially among the younger people, but even though it was a Friday night, there was no line. When we stopped our cars in front of the building, a bigger group of youngsters approached the bouncer on the door in their party attire, but after exchanging a few words with the man, the group left in a hurry.
We stepped out. I pulled my long coat tighter against the chilly wind and walked to the bouncer with my men in tow.
"Boss," the bouncer said with respect in his voice, bowing his head. "Glad to see you here."
"Seems like a quiet night," I said. "What's up with that?"
"We have uh... cockroach problem," the man said with a hushed voice, peering at the doorway.
I didn't see much, but I heard loud music. Not that many voices, though.
"Tell me more about this problem," I asked.
"There's about a dozen roaches. They're not letting anyone out. Especially omegas. We are trying to sneak people out through the backdoor, but... They'll notice soon."
I nodded. "Are we expecting more company? Who else did you call?"
"We only called you, sir," the man said.
"Well done," I said, patting his shoulder. "Well, I'd like a drink. You thirsty, boys?"
Yes, they were.
"Thank you, Boss," the bouncer muttered, stepping out of the way.
I entered the nightclub with Francis by my side, the rest of my men following us. The club was surprisingly crowded, but the atmosphere was grim. No one was having fun. It wasn't hard to spot the roaches who had ruined the night.
Two of them were harassing women close to the door with drinks in one hand and guns in the other, and both of them wore hoodies with an emblem of two burning black flags with the name Rightful Sons above them. I assumed they were supposed to keep people from escaping, but were getting too drunk to do their job. The closest people were eyeing at them and the door, waiting for a good moment to sneak out.
I wrinkled my nose in disgust as the two roaches slurred profanities at the women who stood still, covering in tears, unable to defend themselves in the fear of getting shot.
"Gentlemen. That is not how you treat ladies," I said loudly over the music.
The two turned to glare at me, squinting their red eyes.
"Yeah? And who the fuck asked you, old man?" the other one, Roach A, asked.
I ignored him. "Ladies..." I addressed the women, gesturing for them to leave, which they did in a hurry.
"Hey! I wasn't done talking to them!" Roach B slurred, both of them getting mad. "Who the fuck are you? Don't you know who we are?!"
"Ugh," I said, and with a flick of my hand, my men shot them both.
There was a bit of panic trying to rise at the sudden death of two people, but I raised my hands in a calming manner.
"Let's not make a scene, shall we?" I asked kindly, and the people quieted down. "We are only here to deal with this pest problem. I have to ask you to stay calm and wait. Okay?"
"Yes, sir."
"Yes, Boss..."
"Good. Now, unfortunately, I can't let you leave, or you'll alert the rest of them, but you'll be safe here with my men," I said, and left four of my guys at the door to deal with the bodies and the crowd.
Thankfully, only the people close to the door saw and heard what happened, so no one paid much attention to us as we made our way deeper into the building. Many of the civilians bowed at me when I passed by, my presence spreading relief and reassurance in my wake.
I spotted a few of the terrorists here and there, all oblivious that we had arrived, but my goal was to find the leader himself. I stopped at the bar counter, and the owner himself came to greet me.
"Thank you for coming, Boss," the sweaty man said, his eyes big and bewildered. "It's been a bad night."
"Where are they?" I asked, and the man peered at the VIP section.
Ah, of course... Six of them were having what looked like a drug fest on the elevated platform looking over the rest of the club. There were more people with them, scared out of their minds as they were being tormented and groped by these disgusting cockroaches.
"Thank you for calling me," I told the owner.
"Of course, of course," the man said. "There's no one else I'd rather call."
"I'll deal with this problem. But first, I'd like a glass of good whiskey," I told him.
"Coming right up, Boss."
While I waited for my drink, I told a few of my men to go deal with the stragglers. Quietly. They nodded and left while I turned my attention to the VIP section.
The leader was there.
Once I had my whiskey, I made my way to the noisy VIP section. None of the roaches paid much attention to us when we climbed the stairs. They were too busy tormenting the innocent party-goers, waving their guns around, and being louder than necessary. Obnoxious. Absolutely obnoxious.
One by one, they noticed us, and their snotty laughter died out. Finally, the leader was notified of our presence, and he pulled away from the girl he was groping.
"And who the fuck are you?" the leader asked when I stopped on the edge of the platform.
"I am Michael," I introduced myself politely. "I recognized you from the news and wanted to come say hello."
"Well you can piss off, grandpa. We're having a private party here," one of the roaches told me, angry at me for disturbing them.
"Shut up, Dave," the leader said, and turned back to me. "Michael Mercer?"
"You have heard of me," I said, and he shifted a little in his seat.
"Everyone has, or should have," the man said, giving an annoyed glare to his friend, Dave. "I'm Lonnie Hill. The leader of Rightful Sons."
"The new group of True Order... supporters," I said with a slow nod. "I must admit I'm a bit surprised to find you here. There are plenty of people looking for you."
"I don't give a fuck," he said with a grin. "The army cunts can go fuck themselves for all I care."
"You shouldn't take them too lightly," I noted, but he laughed again.
"They can't stop us. They're too busy licking the governor bitch's shoes."
I didn't hurry to respond to that.
"Mind if I sit?" I asked, and he gestured at an empty armchair.
"So you wanted to say hello," Lonnie said, his interest in me growing. "Did you want something else as well?"
"Just wanted to introduce myself," I said with a shrug, making myself comfortable while my men took their places around me.
"Why are you letting him sit with us?" another one asked Lonnie, giving me annoyed glances.
"Because that's the fucking Michael "The Boss" Mercer, you fucking idiot," Lonnie told him, and turned back to me.
"Who?"
"It's the fucking mafia," Lonnie said, eyeing me carefully.
"Yes," I said slowly. "And you're in my territory."
"Here I was hoping we could... co-exist," Lonnie said.
"That depends... What are your plans for my city?" I asked.
"We are here to stop omegas from gaining more control over us," Lonnie said. "As such a strong alpha, you must agree this new era of equality bullshit has gone too far. They are below us. They should be below us, but our traitorous government is giving out positions omegas are too stupid to handle. The government is letting those weak ass bitches tell us alphas what to do. We've had enough of that. Our plan is to take back control and show them back to their place."
"I see," I muttered. "And how are you going to achieve that?"
"By any means necessary," Lonnie said with anger in his eyes. "So where do you stand, Boss? You with us? Or with them? Are you strong, or are you a weak-ass pussy?"
I squinted my eyes at him, spending a moment to calm my anger while pretending to look interested.
"I couldn't help noticing..." I finally said, glancing at his party, especially the ones scared out of their minds. "These people are alphas. When True Order still led this country, they saw all alphas as equals, but here you are, terrorizing your own kind."
"That's because these bitches are no alphas," Lonnie said, turned to a young man on his left, grabbed him by his short hair and shook him harshly in his hate. "They don't deserve to be called alphas. They are traitors, just like our government."
I took a better look at the kid, who didn't let out a sound even though he had to be in pain. I'd thought he was one of them – he was wearing the hoodie with their emblem on it.
Lonnie turned back to me, laughing. "They're just bitches. Worse than omegas."
"It's not a good look to treat your own men like that," I noted.
"This?" Lonnie asked, suddenly yanking the kid off his seat, throwing him to his knees on the dirty floor. Again, he let out no sounds. "This is my private bitch. Since he cared so much about omegas, I figured I might as well treat him like one."
The kid sat up, but stayed on the floor, his eyes dead, his posture defeated. I had never seen anyone so completely shut down as he was. He just sat there, accepting the torture and humiliation, keeping his head down.
"At least they make obedient whores," Lonnie continued. "Watch this."
He stood and grabbed the kid by his hair again, pulling off a few strands as he yanked his head back. Then this son of a bitch pulled out his gun and pointed it at the kid's face.
"Suck it, slut," he said, pulling back the safety, his finger resting on the trigger.
I felt sick when the kid complied, his eyes wide in pure terror. He parted his lips, let the barrel in, and sucked it like a cock. The other terrorists laughed, enjoying his humiliation as they watched the terrified kid, but the others cried silently, trying to shrink away.
"Just another weak ass pussy who doesn't deserve to be an alpha. That's what's coming to all omega lovers once we regain control over this country," Lonnie concluded, laughing. "So, let me ask again. Are you one of us? Or are you a sloppy pussy like him, hmm?"
"We are the mafia," I said slowly, submitting to my rage. "We didn't get to where we are now by siding with the weak, disgusting human waste."
"So you're saying...?" Lonnie asked, pulling the gun out of the kid's mouth.
I shot him in the head. Pulled the gun out faster than he could react. When his lifeless body hit the floor, right in front of the kid who still didn't even flinch, the other cockroaches tried to reach for their guns, giving my men a reason to end their pathetic lives.
I stayed seated while the club turned into a panicking chaos. I couldn't take my eyes off the young man sitting on the floor, his eyes still wide with fear as he stared at the corpse in front of him. I doubted the kid understood the man was dead. His sanity was too far gone for that.
"Boss. We should go," Francis told me quietly.
I nodded and got up. "Bring the kid."
"Yes, Boss."