I was not sure when I started this story if I would continue it. It was just supposed to be a writing exercise. But I find I am enjoying the story, despite any sort of planning on it (something that many writers would balk at). I have missed a couple days on writing my 500 words a day, though, but here is another section of it. It’s probably the section I’m least proud of, but since I seem to be posting everything else, it’s good to get some stuff out there that’s not the best too. You know, keep it interesting.
Also, I’m calling the story Plunder the Children for now. Here’s the next section:
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The crime syndicate working in the greater Phoenix area was not based there, and had reaches in all fifty states and most first-world countries around the world. The men in charge kept their underlings in confusion for safety purposes. In truth, there was no single name for their gang, and Exzayvius VonTrapp did not exist. The man in charge, the president and CEO of the company, the mastermind behind the whole business was a man who had no identity. He had been scrubbed of his American citizenship, including name, place of birth, and social security number (no small feat!), and had fled to the country of Namibia. He spoke English, Afrikaans, and German in incredibly accurate accents with all the quirks of a native speaker, that those who would speak to him in these languages would figure he grew up across the street from them. Only two people within his massive criminal empire had ever met him, referring to him by the only name he used in public: Zee.
Zee was very careful to send investigations into wild goose chases. The CIA and FBI had long since given up any related cases years prior. As the years progressed, the methods of cover-up became more sophisticated so that new crimes could not be traced to a larger organization, but just to localized gangs. Even members of the gangs had no idea they were working in a bigger picture. They developed their own practices, such as sticking baby blue handkerchiefs in the pockets of their victims or including a candy bar with every cocaine purchase (seriously). But none of these were used in the broader picture. Drugs were sold, enemies were killed, and Zee grew richer and richer. All the while, he lived a life of luxury in a country not known for its luxury.
Then one day, Zee had reason for concern.
In Phoenix, Arizona the chief of police made a statement about soon solving the cold cases of the murders of the Swartwood and Viggin families in the 70s, due to a bright spark who found clues where others did not. He was learning that there was a bigger picture involved in local crimes that, he believed, may even reach to other states. If only he knew. Local gang managerial members passed the information up the chain of command until it finally reached Zee’s ears.
Zee had an intelligence team of his own who were surprised to find this Bureau of Latent Investigations employee had found enough information to begin to connect the dots. He knew that there were not multiple gangs in the area, but just one. He knew many members of these gangs had no idea what they were getting into. And he knew that Exzayvius VonTrapp was a red herring. He knew too much.
Zee was not scared. But he did not want this man killed. He wanted his mind changed. It was not enough to end the flow of information. It must be changed. He must be changed. The very way he thinks must be rewritten.
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Hey, let me know what you think. Read the previous two, much better, segments if you haven’t yet!
The Original Oxford Comma 