Arthur's wristwatch beeped once, signaling an incoming message. He glanced at it and saw he had a message from the scavenger, telling him where the helicopter was located and on what hanger it was.
He smiled at the efficiency of the guy and thanked his stars he didn't kill him on that fateful day they met. It'd have been a huge loss on his part because the guy had proven invaluable over time.
He had lots of guys like the scavenger working under him, combing for information all around the web whenever he wanted. But none of them took the initiative to carry things out for him without his orders. The scavenger, however, was a whole different story. He seemed to predict Arthur's needs and make provisions for them accordingly.
Arthur changed directions again from his favorite spot he thought he would visit a while before leaving, and went in the direction he had been sent.
He got to the place and glanced around, taking notice of how deserted it was. He knew now why the scavenger had chosen this plane: the owner was rotten inside and out and kept this place for easy access whenever he wanted.
But it was a different story when he got inside the place where the planes were all lined up in a row. They glistened under the sun like well-polished silverware. He mentally reminded himself to give the scavenger a raise when he got back, as he went for the plane he was supposed to make use of.
Arthur took a moment to admire the little golden beauty before him. If ever he were to use a plane for any of his self-assigned assignments, it'd be this baby. It wasn't as big as the others, but it looked more sharp in a way he couldn't describe. Arthur was certain this plane had been used for extremely dangerous missions before. It seemed to hold secrets it'd never tell, looked somewhat alive, and was ready to fly.
He took one last look around him and, seeing no one, tried opening the door but found it stuck. Arthur sighed as he mentally deducted that raise and held his index finger out. His finger turned entirely to liquid althruium, and he put it inside the keyhole, which gave way, and the door opened, welcoming him in.
Arthur got inside and started looking around out of curiosity while he waited for the information he asked the scavenger for. He wasn't exactly paying attention and stumbled against a joystick protruding from the ground. Arthur cursed as he fell, when suddenly the plane lit up.
The seemingly normal walls of the plane suddenly morphed into pixels of screens showing a large table. Sitting around the table were a group of men who all faced the head of the table with rapt attention.
The seating arrangements seemed quite odd because, where the head of the table was supposed to be, it was all pitch black. Arthur was about to lose interest in the video, but a voice suddenly came from the darkness. One he'd recognize anywhere, even in his sleep.
"We are all here to witness the turning point of the Cabaretti. But why haven't we heard from Omar yet?"
"Omar is dead, my Lord," one of the men replied.
There was a collective gasp from around the table as the people glanced at each other and whispered furiously.
"How's that possible?" The voice came again, sounding quite surprised.
"Although we lack any evidence linking him to Omar's death, Arthur is the only one who could make such a clean kill," the man said.
"Wasn't he given the memoir containing all the information on Arthur?" The voice continued.
"He was," the same person replied.
"But Arthur probably knew of our plans to plant him as a spy. Hence the reason he went after him as soon as Cleopatra was found missing," the man continued.
"So you're saying we wasted millions of dollars to get nothing in return, is that it?" The voice coldly asked.
No one said a word. The voice sighed and became calm.
"Nothing is ever foreseeable with that boy." The voice said
"What about the girl, do we have her yet?" It asked.
"There was a problem, my lord," the man stammered.
There was silence.
"She was rescued by Arthur, and one of our men was killed on the spot. "The rest are lucky to be alive," the man said.
The voice laughed heartily, confusing the others, who weren't sure if they should laugh along with him or stay put. They unanimously decided to stay put and say nothing.
"It's funny how I watched that boy grow up like my own son, yet I still can't read him after all these years." The voice said
One could even hear a tinge of fondness and respect in it. Then it grew cold with every word it uttered.
"Not withstanding, visit their bases one by one."
"Kill everyone you see and burn them to the ground until Cleopatra is handed over to us one way or the other." He ordered.
The men all sat in silence, afraid to breathe or speak. They hadn't had any run-ins with Arthur, but his fame preceded him, and they were sure they didn't want to be on the receiving end. On the other hand, was their boss. They had seen him in action and weren't sure they wanted to be the recipients of that action either.
Arthur lay there watching the video, his face morphing from one of anger to shock and then disbelief.
This wasn't happening; this couldn't be what and who he thought, he screamed in his head. Because if it were, half his life would be shattered. His expression turned to one of anger again. These damned Cabaretti, it had to be them. They had probably brainwashed him into joining them just so that they could get back at him.
Arthur slowly got up from the floor as the images fizzled out and the walls of the plane turned normal. He tried to process the information he had just heard. His mind was racing as he considered his next move. He knew he had to act fast before the Cabaretti made any more moves against him or those he cared about.
Arthur's mind was racing as he tried to process everything he had just heard. The Cabaretti, with his uncle at the helm, was the organization he had worked for years to take down.
But who would have thought they had been trying to manipulate him all along? He couldn't believe it. But at the same time, he couldn't deny the possibility. It would explain some of the strange occurrences he had experienced in the past. How accurately a nameless and faceless organization placed accurate hits on his company.
He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He couldn't let this revelation paralyze him. He had a job to do, and he needed to focus. Arthur quickly accessed his contact list and found the scavenger's number.
"Scavenger, I need you to do something for me."
"I need you to find out everything you can about the Cabaretti's bases and operations."
"I want to know everything," Arthur said in a low voice.
The scavenger hesitated for a moment before replying, "Arthur, are you sure you want to do this?"
"The Cabaretti is not an organization to be taken lightly."
"I know what I'm doing."
"Just get me the information," Arthur said firmly before ending the call.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He needed to come up with a plan, and he needed to do it fast. Arthur had never been one to back down from a challenge, and he wasn't about to start now. He would take down the Cabaretti, even if it meant putting himself in danger.
As he sat there in the cockpit of the plane, Arthur began to formulate a plan. He knew he couldn't take on the Cabaretti alone. He needed help. Arthur mentally went through his list of contacts, trying to figure out who he could trust.
There was only one person who came to mind. Diana.
But he quickly discarded the thought because he felt he had put her through enough.
"Shit," he cursed as he dialed the scavenger's number again.
He picked up on the first ring.
"The singing girl, I know."
"I'm already working on it," he told Arthur.
Arthur sighed in relief and ended the call. He prayed she'd understand when she saw the dead bodies, coupled with his earlier warning before he left the hall.
If it's what he was thinking, then he didn't need to wait for the scavenger anymore; he knew where to go. And oh, they're gonna cry. He swore as he found his way to the cockpit and got ready to fly.