Operation: Moonfall | Jimmy Crystal Revenge & Redemption

The Ultimatum II

Prison.

The word ricocheted around the stage, or maybe it just felt that way to Buster, because all thoughts had been hollowed out of his brain and replaced with it. Prison was for criminals. Prison was for the dredges of society, to keep them away from the good and fair people of the world. Prison was for Jimmy Crystal.

Or at least that's what he told himself. He knew that wasn't entirely true. Johnny's dad wasn't a bad person from what he had come to know of Marcus over time. "Big Daddy" and his gang had robbed Calatonia blind and gave the police some grief over the years, so there was quantifiable damage done, and those were blatant crimes. In contrast, Buster wasn't out to deprive anyone—he delivered the show he was hired to do and did it in spades.

Yes, he lied. Yes, he brushed up against and technically broke a few laws. But it all came together in the end, and wasn't that what mattered?

But like an arrow, another voice pierced his thoughts.

"It sounds like you believe the ends justify the means. As long as you succeed, all the people you hurt along the way should be okay with the way you treated them, is that right?"

Walter Kilborn did say that. Is that how people perceived him?

What does it mean when the ends don't justify the means?

Buster was yanked out of his own little world by the sound of bickering between Jimmy and Cleo. He hadn't seen the snow leopard so angry before; she was often stoic and statuesque, maybe even icy at times, but she was pissed now, and if Jimmy were any closer to the edge of the stage, Buster thought she might pull him down.

"Jimmy, what the hell are you doing? We never discussed this!" she shouted.

"You weren't getting the job done so I had to do it myself," Jimmy said.

"We talked about accountability, about giving you your voice back, bringing truth to light, and letting the dominos do the work. You're trying to destroy his life!"

Jimmy pointed in Buster's direction, never taking his eyes off Cleo. "He nearly ruined mine! The only reason we're here is because of him! Think about it! He could've taken his little act anywhere in Redshore. He didn't even have to come to Redshore. But he picked me, my theater, my company. He promised me the show of a century but all he brought was grief from day one."

"And what is this going to—"

"QUIET!"

The stage trembled under Jimmy's voice. The command was given with such force that the perfectly prim fur of his mane frayed into wild thickets. Cleo backed off, not just because she didn't want to lose her voice in a screaming match with Jimmy, but to observe. Waiting and watching always served her better than pissing and moaning. She watched with a gaze that could melt steel, a gaze Jimmy chose not to meet.

"I'm not a criminal," Buster whispered.

Something short and amused left Jimmy's throat like a hiccup. "Not officially, but that can be changed. Fraud is a big deal."

"Don't you think this is going overboard? I gave you the show you wanted. Everybody that saw it loved it. The show isn't the problem here."

"You're right—you are. You told every lie you could to get into my wallet. The only reason you got a show is because you're a con artist. Nothing about this was legit. I'm a businessman, Moon. How do I maintain my reputation if everyone knows I got taken in by a con artist and did nothing about it?"

"They were lies at the time, but I worked to make them all come true. That has to count for something, right?" Buster gave a pleading look that left Jimmy unmoved. When he turned it on Cleo, she returned it with a somber gleam in her blue-grey eyes, slowly shaking her head.