The Crime Lords

Chapter 2- "The Crime Lords"

"So what now?" I asked gazing at the maze of branches that supported this masterpiece.

Wills walked slowly over to the balcony, it was the main section of the base. You could literally see Russia from it. If you held onto the ropes that stop you from falling to your most likely death you could probably see the North Pole.

The other parts of the base included: several small bedrooms with a single bed and drawers in each; a kitchen area with merely a bench, a microwave, a sink, a cupboard and a few drawers and finally, just out from the kitchen was the main area which contained various shelves, a few cane chairs, a round wooden table and a dark red lounge; finally, a small bathroom was available with a make-do shower of warmish water, a sink with a mirror and a toilet.

Wills turned from his position and joined his hands behind his back. "I think we should think of a name".

I thought for a moment or two, then gave up. Thinking isn't exactly my signature skill. Give me a dozen bulked-up men with knives over a maths test any day. I don't really think about things before I do them, it's how I roll, no consequences or impossibilities. Nothing is impossible for an acrobat like me.

"You're the boss Wills" I say kneeling. He is the boss after all, Joel and I are like his second in command, or as he likes to call it, the "commanders".

"How about the shadow boys, or something like that?" Joel piped up.

I looked at him with an expression that said, are you serious mate.

"How about The Crime Lords" said Wills.

Joel and I turned and faced him at the same time. I nodded in agreement. It was a good name for us, we did do a lot of crime after all, it was basically the only way to survive anymore. I turned to Joel to see if he felt the same way. He stared at Wills for a bit, probably debating it in his head. He finally nodded his head as well and took a seat on a cane chair near the centre of the base.

I got myself comfortable on the lounge and looked at some of our possessions that we have stolen over the years; a gold compass, we stole that on our first mission as criminals, now it was like a symbol of our friendship; an empty photo frame stood next to it, not that it had any value, we planned to put a photo in it of the entire group once it got bigger; the final item was clay model of a clam containing a round clay pearl, that was just something that Joel picked up and thought it was nice.

I looked at the others and whistled just to break the awkward silence. "So, what now?"

Wills looked at me with a look of concentration. His brown eyes fixed on my hazel ones. His face was always so serious, it still is. Then a grin formed on his face and he nodded toward a container. I knew what he meant. That container contained Will's weapons; two shotguns, a butchers knife and a couple of grenades. He was always the destructive type. His criminal name was MadMex, although I'm not sure why, as far as I was concerned, MadMex was the name of a Mexican restaurant.

I smiled back at him and looked across at my container a few feet away from me. It contained a silver hand gun, a knife, and gloves. They were special gloves with tazers in the palms, always fun to give someone a handshake. I looked at Joel who had the same evil expression. It was settled, we were going on a mission.

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I pulled the gloves onto my hands and they gave a little buzz into life. My fingertips stilled showed at the ends. The hand gun and knife I slipped into the pockets of my grey shorts. I replaced the brown shirt I was wearing with a white singlet top. A blue capital "A" was imprinted in the centre.

"Do I look good?" Joel asked. He was wearing a dark green long sleeve shirt except the sleeves were brown, a pair of black trousers with dark green stripes up the sides, a dark green eye mask and his bow was slung over his left shoulder with a quiver on his back full of arrows.

"Like a criminal." Wills answered.

His appearance was more intimidating than Joel's or mine: a dark brown denim vest covering an orange t-shirt and a pair of denim jeans. Two shotguns were strapped across his back in a criss-cross. To top it off, a black eye mask completed the appearance of a hardcore assassin. "Harley, or Acrobolt, you ready?" He raised an eyebrow at me. I put on my own light blue eye mask and nodded. Acrobolt, was ready.