The Mirror Kryptos

6: Aim, shoot

A situational criminal is someone who committed a crime in unusual circumstances but is not normally inclined to commit crimes and is unlikely to repeat the offence.

A long table in the centre of a large hall was surrounded by black chairs, with five people seated alongside Elio, tapping his right foot.

Raze entered the hall, followed by Amias, the underboss. As soon as five people saw Raze walking in, they quickly stood straight. Eyes going back and forth among themselves and Raze. Raze stood in front of a high chair as Silas stood on his right side. Raze gestures for them to take a seat.

On the left side of Raze sat a consigliere known as an advisor, followed by three capos next to the advisor. Capos are the leaders of different districts or crews dominated by Scale, owned by Don Raze. Elio, head of the Capos, was sitting next to Amias, followed by their empty seat of Silas.

"Others couldn't be present here, so they joined online," Amias informs, connecting his laptop with the projector.

"Is it encrypted?" Raze inquired, crossing his legs and waiting for the projector to display the faces of those who were not present.

"Yes, Boss." Amias replied, glancing back at Raze, "I have used and asked all the participants to use the VPN server."

Raze nodded, watching people being added and their profiles shrinking as an array formed at the top of the screen.

People who joined online straightened their posture, witnessing their boss sitting in front of them and gulping as if Raze were gazing at their souls right through the devices. Some participants were looking behind the camera, worried that they had committed an unknown sin and now needed to pay the price.

"Is everything ready?" Raze asked, glancing at his left wristwatch. Amias sighed, noticing Silas was absent.

Amias darted his eyes at the closed door and spoke, "Well, Silas is-"

"Present! I'm always right on time." Silas shouts by raising his right arm. He panted lightly, falling on the doorframe, feeling his legs jelly. He straightened his backbone with a deep breath, detecting glares from Amias and others, except Raze, who knew about his absence.

"Shall we begin?" Raze asked, standing up as he got a nod from Amias. His fingers pressed against the glass tableware, eyes scanning each face; present in the room.

"It came to my notice that crude oil from the UAE is being imported without my notice," Raze glanced at the projector and tilted his head to the side as he strode to the right side. "I believe you all know what crude oil is, right?" As the image was projected on his suit, he stood in front of the projector.

"Right, Richard? Richard Gaiman." Raze zeros in on the man, whose profile got pinned by Amias.

The people who heard the name somehow held back their gasps. This meeting was unexpected, and hearing their old member's name with such venom was not anticipated—not even in their dreams.

They know how capable Raze is and have no questions in mind. What was Gaiman thinking here? What made him believe he could escape from the eagle's eyes?

Richard blinked, feeling his blood run cold. He narrowed his wrinkled eyes, and his white hair was neatly parted from the right side. Raze raised his right hand, joining his forefinger and long finger, and fisted his other fingers.

"Tell your old boss I am taking good care of his empire." Raze loaded the finger gun. "Aim," He said, pointing his fingers at Richard's forehead.

A cold sweat formed on Gaiman's forehead. His eyes fell behind his laptop, watching twenty guns aimed at him. His body sat immobile on the sofa. He became aware of his vision becoming grey and returned his gaze to the screen, his eyes devoid of all emotions—except fear.