Chapter 12: the Collective

As far as prison cells go, Miate’s cell was a palace of yellow cushions. They covered the entire floor and the two bunk beds stationed on either side of the room. On each bed lounged an immoral looking girl. The sill on the lone window was lined with scented candles, which did little to drown out the smell of spent latex.

And most importantly, no cameras. An expensive privilege and sign of wealth in the tomb.

C-1 in the lead and C-4 towering behind her were stopped at the entrance to the cell.

“I have to search you,” the goon standing guard said, not holding back the bass in his voice.

He reached down with an aggression fitting of a thug of his size. C-1 snatched his hand, twisted. The large gangster spun round and she put him in an arm lock. She tugged his arm to the verge of snapping.

“Argh, please,” he croaked. “I’m just following orders.”

“No one fucking touches us without permission,” the two Collective members said together.

“You’ve made your point,” Miate said from within. Seated at the end of the cushioned floor, cross legged, flame patterned kimono threatening to spill out his pot belly. LAST BOSS tattooed in bold Tribeca font on his blubbered neck. His advisor, messenger and assassin Suffo seated beside him.

C-1 tossed the goon aside.

“But,” Miate mumbled, nibbled on chicken wing. “I’ll have to insist on a search. I can’t very well allow any weapons into my humble abode. Oh and C-4 has to stay outside.”

‘There’s nothing humble about your cell.’

C-1 glared at him without reply.

“Would you at least permit Cindy to search you.” Miate gestured to his right.

One of the girls perked up. Dropped the tablet in her hands and trotted to the cell door.

Her pants were chopped dangerously low, revealing healthy thighs. Her shirt crudely scissored into a V neck crop top, exposing an abundant chest.

Her outfit bordered on being underwear. Yet Cindy somehow managed to look the least sleazy of Miate’s four women.

Perhaps it was the glasses she wore. Their bright green frame seemed to bring out the innocence in her eyes.

Cindy motioned a hand at C-1, paused as if testing the waters.

‘She smells like strawberries.’

C-1 nodded and Cindy proceeded to search her. And by the Saint Oracle she was thorough. She even ran her hands through C-1’s long dreads and touched places only the Collective was allowed to descend.

But this deal was important so the Collective allowed it.

Once the search was completed, Cindy nodded to Miate and scurried back to her bed.

“Shoes,” Suffo hissed almost apologetically.

C-1 slipped of her yellow crocks and stepped onto the pillow layered floor. She crossed the cell and sat before the Murder Inc leader and his right hand man.

“Have you considered my offer?” C-1 said without wasting time.

Miate on the other hand was slow to reply. He sucked the meat off another wing bone. Tossed the remains into a plastic bowl and licked the sauce off his fingers with glorious purpose.

“Murder Inc won’t take part in your crazy plan.”

“Is the money not enough?”

“No amount of money would be enough for me.” Miate’s lips quirked into a leer. “I’d prefer a different kind of payment.”

He stared at C-1 with an unrestrained lust. Appraised every inch of her slender body.

C-1 sneered. “Fucking between inmates isn’t allowed.”

Miate rolled his eyes. “You know the guards give me a bit of leeway on such matters. Heck you need only look around you.”

C-1 stared at him hard, unwavering.

‘He knows we'd never agree to that.’

Why take this route. True, Miate was a lecherous pig but the other gang leaders had jumped at the chance to escape.

‘Not this guy.’

Does his lust overwhelm his urge to be free?

‘Unless he’s intentionally sabotaging our negotiations.’

But why wouldn’t he want to escape.

“Ah I see.” C-1 waved her hands around. “This is all your life has to offer. You’re not willing to exchange this pathetic kingdom of yours for real freedom.”

Miate’s smile froze and the Collective was sure they’d guessed correctly.

“Shame really, you don’t have anything waiting for you on the outside. No family, no friends, no lovers, no power, no purpose.”

Miate glared at C-1. “You’ve heard my stance. Now leave.”

“A damn shame really, that this cell is all your life amounts to.”

“You’re courting death little girl,” he said through grit teeth.

C-1 wasn’t deterred. “But I wonder. Are all the Murder Inc members as comfortable here as you, yeh? Are they all content with prison life like you, yeh? If word got out—”

“Quite the deduction,” Miate said. “I should’ve expected as much from a former agent. But you’ve made one mistake.”

“Oh, and that is?”

“Confronting me in my lair.” Miate’s lips quirked up into something more ruthless than humorous. “Suffo, kill her.”

“But boss, the others, they’ll know—”

“Kill her!”

The lanky assassin scowled but still rose, bared his sharp teeth and made a slow, measured approach.

‘He’s reluctant.’

“Suffo.” C-1 raised a palm. “Before you do that.”

‘Not that you’d even succeed.’

“The same amount we offered to him. We now dangle out to you.”

Suffo halted his advance.

“Kill her!!” Miate bellowed. “Her crazy plans will only get us killed.”

The gluttonous bastard looked ready to attack himself.

‘If only he could get off his lazy ass quick enough.’

The cell went silent except for the uncomfortable shifting of the girls on the bunk beds.

“1 million credits,” Suffo said.

“Yes. Say Suffo don’t you think Murder Inc is need of new leadership.” C-1 raised an eyebrow at the scrawny hitman. “As for my plan. We succeed: you have a million credits and are free to spend it however you want. We fail: as new leader you use the funds to pay off the guards for more privileges. Win, win.”

“Kill he—” Miate choked on the words. Suffo had slithered behind him at some point, skinny arm coiled around his fat neck.

‘He barely hesitated.’

Indeed, the Collective had yet to encounter a problem they couldn’t throw money at.

One of the girls stifled a scream.

‘Still squeamish at the sight of a little violence.’

C-1 shook her head.

‘Seems like the tomb hasn’t properly broken her yet.’

And it breaks everyone. All in good time. She’d grow numb to such scenes of betrayal and violence.

Miate flopped back trying to smash free of Suffo’s strangle hold. The pillowed floor instead cushioned the assassin.

Suffo wrapped his legs around Miate’s blubbered gut, squeezing the air out of him. Wrenched his arm tighter and licked his ear.

“Shh boss,” Suffo hissed. “Don’t struggle, it will be over soon.”

Miate thrashed, wriggled, struggled until he struggled no more. Suffo wasn’t quick to let go. He yanked his arm and crushed his wind pipe for good measure. Then eased the chubby prisoner off himself.

Suffo stood and ironed out his pants. “You have my offshore account. I’ll be waiting your transfer.”

“Soon,” C-1 said. “Get your people prepped in the meantime.”

Suffo grinned. Licked at his sharp teeth. “Will do milady.”

“And I’ll need to use the infirmary.”

Murder Inc had the prison doctor on their payroll and for a small fee he could get the inmates any medication they wanted. Or in the case of the Collective let them use the infirmary for their surgeries.

“You know our rates. I’ll just add that to what you already owe.”

C-1 swirled. Strode for the door. Paused near the exit.

“Cindy,” C-1 called out. The girl perked up. She wasn’t part of the deal.

‘But were in a celebratory mood.’

C-1 pulled out an empty pocket. The girl scurried over without hesitation. Grabbed tightly unto pocket and showed no signs of reluctance.

‘It’s good she knows where the power lies.’

The girl was a quick study. She hadn’t been in the tomb long and it had already broken her.

This was a good thing. The quicker you adjusted, found a role, the less you got hurt. Some of the Collective members had learned that the hard way.

C-1 glanced over her shoulder. Suffo grinned and said nothing.

‘It’s good he also knows where the power lies.’