Chapter 21:I am Alphonse Capone
Mark, Loe, and the miniature Gustav moved stealthily through the dimly lit corridors, their steps soundless as they edged closer to Vivian's location. The air was thick with tension, and every corner they turned felt like a trap waiting to spring. The only thing guiding them now was Mindy's voice in their minds, clear yet filled with urgency.
"That's where Vivian is." Mindy's voice echoed telepathically, confirming that they were almost at the door to the room where Gustav's wife was being held.
Mark and Loe exchanged a glance, their faces a mixture of determination and wariness. They knew they had to act fast, but they couldn't afford to make any mistakes now, not with Gustav's wife at risk.
Gustav, still in his tiny form, peered out from Loe's pocket, his heart pounding. His tiny fists clenched in frustration. "I hope we're not too late.." he muttered, though his voice barely registered in the vastness of the hallway.
Mark, sensing the tension rising, silently pulled out several smoke bombs from his belt. He held them up, a determined glint in his eye. "Well, we always have a pla.," he said with a confident smirk, trying to lift the mood even slightly.
Loe, ever the reckless one, couldn't help but smirk in return. "Let's give them hell then."
They moved into position, crouching behind a pillar that shielded them from the large, reinforced door just ahead—the door where they knew Vivian was being held. The faint sound of voices could be heard from inside, but they couldn't make out the words. It didn't matter. What lay beyond that door was someone higher, and possibly an army of guards waiting to tear them apart.
"This is it.." Mindy's voice echoed again in their minds, a hint of worry lacing her usually calm tone.
Loe clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. "No turning back now." His tone was deadly serious, a far cry from his usual carefree demeanor.
Mark nodded, slipping the smoke bombs into his hand. "On my signal.." he whispered, his eyes never leaving the door. He took a deep breath, then threw the smoke bombs with a swift flick of his wrist.
The hallway exploded into a cloud of thick, swirling smoke, instantly obscuring everything from view. Alarms began to blare, and shouts of confusion erupted from inside the room.
Mark and Loe moved like shadows, slipping through the smoke with practiced precision. They could hear the guards scrambling inside, their heavy footsteps pounding the floor as they tried to react to the sudden chaos.
The door burst open, and through the dense smoke, the figure of Alphonse Capone emerged. His eyes were sharp, cutting through the smoke with an eerie calm. He stood tall, his imposing figure radiating power and authority.
As the thick smoke swirled around them, Loe's eyes locked onto the silhouette of the man stepping through the haze. Through the enhanced lenses of their masks, both Loe and Mark could see the figure clearly, despite the chaos. The smoke, which would have blinded any normal opponent, did little to hinder them.
Loe's fists tightened. He could sense the power emanating from the man. His voice had been unmistakable—gravelly, commanding, and full of authority. "Who are you, old man?" Loe taunted, still catching his breath from beating down the guards that had swarmed them.
Alphonse stepped closer, his piercing gaze cutting through the smoke as though it wasn't there. "I am Alphonse Capone, and you're about to see what happens when someone crosses me."
At the mention of the name, Loe's eyes widened beneath his mask. "Alphonse?" he repeated, the realization hitting him like a shockwave. This was the Alphonse Capone, the man connected to his deceased boss, Albert Capone. This might be his only chance to learn the truth about Albert's mysterious past.
His heart raced, but Loe steeled himself. "Nightwing, save Vivian. Let me handle this old man!" he shouted, making a quick decision.
Mark, aka Nightwing, hesitated. "But Angel—" he began, worry evident in his voice. He knew Loe could be reckless, and going up against Alphonse Capone alone wasn't a small matter.
Suddenly Vivian's scream echoed through the room, sending a chill down Mark and Loe and Gustav's spines.
Loe's voice was firm, unwavering. "Just do it, Nightwing!" He needed to face Alphonse, to uncover the truth about the Capone family and Albert's death.
Seeing the resolve in Loe's eyes, Mark nodded. "Alright. But don't die on me."
As Mark bolted forward toward the room where Vivian was held, Gustav leaped out of Loe's pocket. In a split second, he returned to his normal size, standing tall beside Mark. "I'll help you. We're getting my wife back!" Gustav's voice was filled with determination.
As the guard, a brutish man with a cruel smirk, stood over Vivian, his eyes gleaming with twisted pleasure as she writhed in agony. "How's that?" he sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "I'd love to break you, but the boss has other plans." He chuckled darkly, clearly enjoying her suffering.
Gustav's eyes burned with rage. Seeing his wife in such torment, bound and helpless, ignited a fire inside him that he hadn't felt in years. "You're dead!" he growled under his breath as they approached the door.
Mark threw Gustav a glance. "We don't have time to waste. Let's do this smart and fast."
Without hesitation, Mark hurled a smoke bomb through the door. The thick, gray smoke flooded the room, instantly blinding the guards and providing them with the cover they needed.
The guards coughed and stumbled, their vision clouded, while Mark and Gustav charged in like shadows in the fog. Mark swung his batons with expert precision, disarming and disabling the first guard before he could even react.
"What the hell?" Guard 1 shouted, flailing his arms as Mark's baton struck his ribs, knocking the wind out of him.
Meanwhile, Gustav, driven by fury, grabbed the second guard by the throat, lifting him off his feet effortlessly. "You touched my wife?" Gustav's voice was low, cold, and filled with a barely contained rage.
The guard, choking, struggled to respond, his face turning pale as Gustav's grip tightened. "I didn't—" the guard stammered, gasping for air, but Gustav wasn't interested in excuses.
"Then sleep fucktard." Gustav whispered before slamming the guard into the ground with a bone-crushing force, knocking him unconscious instantly.
Mark, now standing over the first guard, looked down at him with a calm yet deadly gaze. "You picked the wrong woman to mess with." With a final strike, Mark knocked the guard out cold.
The room was finally silent, save for Vivian's labored breathing.
Mark quickly knelt beside Vivian, gently freeing her from her restraints. "It's okay. We're here. You're safe now."
Gustav rushed to his wife's side, his hands shaking as he helped untie her. "Vivian, I'm so sorry... I'm here. I'm here." His voice cracked with emotion.
Vivian, weak and trembling, managed a small smile, her voice barely a whisper. "I knew you'd come."
Gustav pulled her into his arms, holding her close, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief and sorrow. "I'll never let them hurt you again."
...
As the smoke still swirled around the room, blurring Alphonse's vision, Loe's voice cut through like a knife.
"Hey, old man," Loe taunted, his voice dripping with disdain, "do you know Albert Capone?"
Alphonse froze for a moment, his sharp ears catching the name of his son. Rage and confusion clouded his already smoky surroundings. "What? Who are you? How do you know my son!?" he barked, his voice betraying a mix of surprise and fury.
Loe stepped out from the haze, his figure barely visible, but his words were sharp and deliberate. "Beats me," Loe said, shrugging nonchalantly as he wiped blood from his knuckles, still fresh from the men he'd knocked out. "Why didn't you come to his funeral?"
The question struck Alphonse hard, though he tried not to show it. Despite Albert Capone being a notorious gangster, known for his cruelty and relentless ambition, Loe couldn't forget the man who had once been like a father to him during his troubled youth. Albert had taught Loe to fight, to survive. To Loe, Albert wasn't just a criminal—he was family, someone who gave him a purpose before his life took a different path.
Alphonse's face twisted in anger. "That useless bastard?" he spat, the venom in his voice unmistakable. "He was no son of mine. He betrayed the 69. Do you know what he did? He turned his back on us! He was weak, a traitor. He deserved what he got!"
Loe's fists clenched at Alphonse's words. He remembered the ruthless gang and its control over the streets, the blood on their hands, and the constant struggle for power. But Albert had been different in Loe's eyes. Sure, he was a mafia, but to Loe, he had moments of compassion, moments where he'd taken care of the people under his wing, including Loe himself.
"You think he betrayed you?" Loe said coldly, stepping closer. "Albert wasn't weak. He did what he had to do to survive.
Alphonse let out a bitter laugh, his face hardened with years of cruelty and bitterness. "Albert was a failure. He couldn't even handle the pressure. If he wanted to betray the 69 Group, then he deserved to rot. I have no place for weaklings in my family."
Loe's hands shook, not from fear, but from the restraint it took to hold himself back from pummeling the old man right there. "You didn't even come to his funeral," Loe said, his voice wavering with a mixture of sadness and anger. "Your own son. Whatever you think of him, he deserved better than that."
Alphonse laughed bitterly, his voice full of venom. "Funeral? For a traitor? That boy wasn't worth the dirt he was buried in. If you were smart, you'd have known that before you got involved with him."
Loe's anger surged. His memories of Albert—the man who had shielded him from danger, who taught him the code of the streets, who had saved him more than once—clashed with the image of this cold, heartless father standing before him.
Loe took a step back, his eyes still locked on Alphonse. "I'm not here to fight you, old man. I just wanted to understand. But now I see there's nothing to understand. You're just a broken man who lost his son and refuses to admit that it was your fault."
Suddenly, from behind him, Mark's urgent voice cut through the haze. "Angel! Let's go, now!"
Mindy also murmur in Loe's mind "Loe..."
Loe gritted his teeth, his eyes flicking back toward Alphonse. He wanted answers, he wanted to demand the truth about Albert, but he knew it wasn't the time for that. They had a mission, and lingering would put them all in danger.
"We'll finish this another time." Loe muttered under his breath, his gaze never leaving Alphonse as he slowly stepped back.
Alphonse's voice echoed in the room, filled with rage and confusion. "Come back here!"
Loe turned his head slightly, casting one last glance over his shoulder. Through the swirling smoke, he saw the silhouette of Alphonse, standing rigid with fury, a man consumed by his own bitterness.
"Goodbye, old man," Loe said quietly, his voice barely a whisper. "May we meet again."
Alphonse's eyes narrowed, straining to find Loe through the haze. "Wait!" he barked. "Who are you? How did you know my son?"
Loe smirked, his eyes gleaming as he moved further into the shadows, becoming one with the smoke. "Let's just say… an acquaintance of his." he replied, his tone cold yet detached.
Before Alphonse could say anything else, Loe was gone, vanishing into the darkness. The old man stood there, fists clenched, a storm of questions and anger swirling inside him.
Loe, on the other hand, swallowed his frustration as he rejoined Mark and Gustav, falling into step beside them.
"We'll deal with him later," Loe said under his breath, his focus sharpening. "Let's get this done."
Mark nodded, the tension lifting just enough as they continued forward, leaving Alphonse behind—for now.
To be continue