Chereads / THE NIGHT BEFORE DEATH: TERROR STRIKES BACK / Chapter 13 - The Golden Walrus

Chapter 13 - The Golden Walrus

"Power is like alcohol. THE MORE YOU TAKE, THE MORE YOU WANT!"

A large hall filled with members from various high-ranking crime families both regional and international was present. Even though no significant person was present there, it was quite a big day for the members of the High Table. A man in his mid-thirties walked up to the podium. He has a wheatish complexion with blue pristine eyes and blonde hair. He said with a big smile, "First of all, I want to show gratitude to all of the guys here who have taken a couple of hours from their busy schedules and come here. My name is Hutch Dempsey and I am originally from Wellington, New Zealand. My family moved here some fifty years ago and I worked as a bank accountant till I joined the High Table. I won't bore you longer giving my trivial introduction. As you all know after the destruction of the previous High Table, the families that were dependent on the High Table had to either find a new support or fade away with time. But, when I initially joined the Belgian Mafia here, I always dreamed of the re-establishment of the High Table. It was not easy and I faced many problems at the start, but with God's grace and some financial help from gentlemen like you, the High Table finally got re-instituted. Many families have joined the High Table and as a matter of fact, many families are already enjoying a variety of facilities that our members get after joining us. Although, our new High Table is still not as prestigious as the previous one, but it is no less. But, like any organization, it requires funds to thrive and even though, I don't want to admit it so blatantly but we need funds urgently." One of the members of the Chinese Mafia, Xi Shiang rose and asked, "How can we trust you when three big names are opposing you openly? VPS, Shinzo, and Anbu, the Massino and Valentina Family are not aligned with you. Twelve days ago, VPS killed a mediator of yours in his penthouse." Hutch smiled, "VPS is a maniac and is blind too as he doesn't see the growing power of the High Table. He is nobody compared to the legends who once were members of the previous High Table. Jimmy Law, the Gonzalez Family, and many others were profound supporters of the High Table. I am not worried about that clown. I am more worried that you guys are giving him so much importance. His whole image is formed around the lie that he is well-connected and his say has the highest value in the Underworld. I want to know how many even listen to him. Massino and Valentina are powerful families, no doubt but they possess no significant prestige outside of Italy. Valentina is sick and Massino is heavily bankrupt. Shinzo and Anbu are also regional lords and their brother, Haruto is a member of us from the Malaysia side. I don't see anything that makes him a threat to the High Table." Mr. Ralph Hummels rose and asked, "Then, why did you send your mediator to VPS and when he killed him you did nothing but keep silent?" Hutch smiled, "He fled the minute he killed my man. I don't know exactly where he is right now but one thing is sure he won't find refuge anywhere now. The hunt is ongoing and soon he will be in front of you all and I will execute him in front of you all." A large commotion started amongst them. Hutch got down from the podium and walked towards his seat.

Arthur Dale, a man in his late thirties with pale skin and dark brown eyes looked at Hutch coming towards him. He was the second in command and a close friend of Hutch. He smiled when Hutch sat beside him. He said, "It was very brave of you to say that VPS is not a threat. It inspired them." Hutch looked at his friend and asked, "What do you mean?" Arthur giggled, "You called the biggest man in the Underworld a "coward". It was a good strategy to show your power against adversity." Hutch smiled, "You seriously consider that dipshit the biggest man in the Underworld?" Arthur said, "He has been ruling the Underworld for the past four years." Hutch asked in an angry tone, "And what was he doing before that? Hiding in some hole? Rats like him don't deserve respect." Arthur said, "I sense fear in your eyes. We have been together for the last twenty years and I can sense whenever you are tensed." Hutch smiled, "Tensed? Who said I am tense? If anything, I am excited and happy to see people joining the High Table. Soon, I will gain the same level of power and respect that the previous High Table heads did." Arthur asked grimly, "Is this why you wanted the High Table to be re-instituted? To gain power and respect." Hutch said, "Yes. I want to become the most powerful and wealthiest man in the Underworld and for that, I am willing to do anything." Arthur asked, "What about VPS and his allies? You will need them to support your claim." Hutch smiled, "Don't worry, Arthur. I know how to defeat VPS. He will have to die."

Xi Shiang sauntered gracefully toward the table where Arthur and Hutch were seated, the faint hum of chatter and clinking glasses enveloping the room. As he settled into a nearby chair, a warm smile lit up his face. "You have impressed me, Mr. Dempsey," he began, his voice smooth yet resonant. "I had a conversation with my boss, Mr. Feng. He sends his regards and expresses his regret for not being able to attend the meeting." Hutch returned the smile, a glint of understanding in his eyes. "No big deal. It's not a meeting in the traditional sense; just a formal get-together. Have you had dinner yet?" Mr. Shiang shook his head slightly, the corners of his mouth still upturned. "No, but thank you for the offer. I must jet off to Canada for an urgent meeting. I only came by to say goodbye." He extended his hand in a firm shake to both Arthur and Hutch before turning to make his exit, the sound of his footsteps fading into the mosaic of the gathering. Arthur's expression morphed into a knowing grin. "Looks like your bluff worked after all." Hutch chuckled, his demeanor relaxed yet focused. "It's not just bluffing that swayed them, Arthur. The Chinese are acutely aware of their disunity. This inherent flaw will undoubtedly benefit their sworn enemies, the Japanese, which means VPS stands to gain as well. Mr. Feng is desperately seeking a powerful ally, and who currently holds more sway than the High Table? It's all a game of convenience; we serve as a benefit to them, just as they do to us." Arthur's smile faded, replaced by a growing concern. "I've heard whispers that Massino has agreed to marry his son to Valentina's daughter. We must prevent that marriage from happening, or capturing Italy will be impossible." Hutch's smile returned, though it carried a hint of mischief. "Patience, Arthur. Time has its way of playing tricks." Curiosity piqued, Arthur pressed on. "And what's happening with Rico Martinez's deal? I can't shake the feeling that VPS won't allow it to flourish. If we help ensure its success, we'd ingratiate ourselves with Rico, making it easier to infiltrate the South American Mafia." Hutch's demeanor shifted to one of grim reflection. "Rico is a despicable man, driven by self-interest. I doubt he's capable of gratitude. Further, handing South America over to us doesn't align with his ambitions. He dreams of being the central figure of that region—a throne to which we are a direct threat. Allies with his arch-enemy are hardly a welcome ideas; the Haitians and Bolivians already harbor deep-rooted animosity. I have no desire to spark a civil war within the High Table." There was a moment of contemplative silence, after which Arthur ventured, "At last, what about Nafisa? That enigmatic woman?" Hutch's smile returned, enigmatic in its own right. "She's not our priority at the moment. We'll address her when the circumstances are favorable." Rising from his seat, he added with a hint of urgency, "Keep the guests entertained and well-fed. I must leave for Germany immediately; a special person awaits my arrival."

Bremen, Germany

Hutch settled into the cozy living room, which was adorned with an eclectic array of vases filled with vibrant flowers, their colors dancing in the sunlight filtering through the windows. He glanced at his watch, the hands ticking away, and took a slow sip from the steaming cup of coffee cradled in his hands. A soft yawn escaped his lips, momentarily breaking the tranquility of the moment. Just then, a voice resonated from behind him, smooth and confident, "I hope I have not made you wait for too long." Hutch turned, a smile spreading across his face as he beheld a tall, dark, and strikingly handsome man in his early forties. The man approached with an easy grace, extending his hand for a handshake. "Not at all," Hutch replied warmly, "I was so eager to meet you that I lost track of time." The man smiled back, a hint of flattery in his expression. They both settled into plush chairs, and Hutch leaned slightly forward, the ambiance shifting to one of serious business. "So, I trust you remember the deal we discussed. You provide me with five million, and in return, I deliver 'something' that you desire." The man, his demeanor calm but focused, responded with a knowing smile, "Yes, I believe that was our arrangement. But tell me honestly, Mr. Dempsey, will you bring me that 'something'?" "Of course," Hutch assured him, confidence threading through his tone. "Just name it, and I will procure it for you as swiftly as possible." Rising from his seat with his hands clasped behind his back, the man's expression shifted to one of nostalgia. "Years ago, my close friend, Francis Dortmund, held a powerful position in Germany. He had an iron grip on everything—from selecting candidates to ensuring their electoral victories. However, two ruthless brothers emerged like a tempest, dismantling everything Francis had painstakingly built. Tragically, he lost his life in that conflict, and with his passing, the legacy of the Dortmund family has faded, known only to a few loyalists." As Hutch listened intently, the man continued a hint of sorrow in his voice, "I cannot resurrect my friend, nor can I seek revenge on his killers, for they are already dead. Instead, I turn my focus to the hidden money that one of the culprits, Charan Khatri, concealed somewhere in India. While I can't pinpoint its exact location, I'm certain it resides there. I need you to retrieve it for me." Hutch took a moment to finish his coffee, the rich aroma lingering in the air. "It sounds straightforward enough. However, I unfortunately lack the resources to send someone to India to get the money." The man's brow furrowed slightly. "Are you saying you can't undertake the job?" Hutch flashed a reassuring smile. "Not at all. What I meant was, if you're willing to stretch your budget a tad further, I can arrange for someone to journey to India and retrieve what you seek." Curiosity sparked in the man's eyes. "But I'm already paying you five million." Hutch leaned back, a cunning glint in his eyes. "Secrecy comes at a premium." A chuckle escaped the man's lips. "Clever. I appreciate your wit. How much more are you asking?" "One million extra, plus a commitment to provide three hundred of your men to the High Table," Hutch proposed, his tone casual yet assertive. "Make it two hundred," the man countered. "I require some men as well." "Agreed," Hutch replied with a satisfied grin. They shook hands, a pact solidified in that moment. As he stepped toward the door, Hutch paused and turned back, curiosity piqued. "May I know your name?" The man regarded him with a smile that revealed a hint of warmth behind his businesslike façade. "Garbett. Thomas Garbett." Hutch returned the smile, his voice friendly. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Garbett." "The pleasure," Thomas replied evenly, "is all mine." Hutch walked outside the room, with a smile as wicked as his mind....