“Who the hell is kicking my ass?” Victory demanded angrily, storming into the HQ.
He had resolutely decided not to let the Fellowship slip from his vision. He would not let Cain corrupt it, no matter what. Now that Cain was in a position of more power than Victory, Victory would have to start being harsh.
“Pardon me?” Cain asked with as much dignity as he could muster.
Victory gestured condescendingly for Cain to get up from his desk. Holding onto his pencil he circled around the corner of the desk to join his friend. Victory led Cain to the club room and the television contained within. With an angry flick of his wrist, Vic turned on the television.
“…tragedy today. Apparently several homeless people have been harshly beaten in Center City today,” the Channel 6 anchor was saying, “Police suspect possible Fellowship involvement. We turn now live to the action cam outside Fellowship headquarters and our live coverage with…”
“Listen to this,” Victory hissed angrily, interrupting the television, “He’s right outside.”
“I’m trying to,” Cain said with a shrug.
“…Whose noble intentions may not be all they seem,” the reporter said, “It is possible that the Fellowship has put aside their peaceful policies for change in favor of more vicious techniques. Rather than trying to help poor and homeless people, as they often claim, it would appear that several Oxen have decided to eliminate the homeless through violence. Live from Fellowship Headquarters, I’m…”
Victory snapped the TV off with a single furious motion.
“Now, I see one of two possibilities. Either someone in the Fellowship is really beating up bums, or else someone’s feeding the news false accusations to make us look bad. Either way – I want to know who’s kicking us in the ass!”
“Perhaps you mean ‘stabbing us in the back’…” Cain said calmly.
“No, at least backstabbing is dignified and private. This is public and humiliating. This is a poke at us, it’s a kick in the ass. And I demand to find the person responsible!”
“Well what do you want from me?” Cain said in exasperation, “I only just saw this, too.”
“You’re in charge of day-to-day operations for the Fellowship. Now are these accusations true?”
“I don’t think so.”
“That’s not good enough! I want certainty!”
“Well,” Cain said, scratching his cheek, “There are two of our guys who I’ve given a little weekend work to. I got them to go without uniforms around the city and find out what the general impression is of us. They’d be the only Oxen likely to have done such a thing, because they were the only ones on the street for so long.”
“Who?” Victory demanded.
“Ben Goldberg and Annie Martinez,” Cain said.
“The two stooges,” Victory muttered, “Well, I’m going to shadow them next time they go out, and see what’s going on.”
“Good luck,” Cain said genuinely.
"Manuscripts don't burn"
- Mikhail Bulgakov
Hi, I'm horror and science fiction author Steve Kozeniewski (pronounced: "causin' ooze key.") Welcome to my blog! You can also find me on Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, and Amazon. You can e-mail me here, join my mailing list here, or request an e-autograph here. Free on this site you can listen to me recite one of my own short works, "The Thing Under the Bed."
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