by P. T. Macias
The large meeting room in the Elite Power building is completely occupied with the entire Elite order.
The walls are painted light gray, gray carpets, and beautiful paintings. There’re several custom-made fourteen feet tables and black leather chairs. In the center of the tables are all types of drinks and snacks.
The Dukes are seated at the King table, and the Earls take up two tables. The Earls are required from an early age to participate in all of the monthly summit meetings.
“I agree with Trent, we should send an Earl to each cartel Lord and the Lords of the research facilities. We need to put a block on the new drug. The world has enough drugs to deal with,” says King Konig looking at the Dukes.
King Konig grasps his wrinkled, shaking hands, resting them on top of the table. He’s eighty-five years old and ready to hand over the power to his grandson, Earl Trent Konig.
The Konigs monitor the dangerous and powerful activities in the world. This includes drugs, cartels, slave trading and human trafficking, illegal mercenaries, politics/corruption, terrorism, technology mercenaries, insurgents, and militias.
“I would like to have the Earls monitor the Lords that handle the mercenaries, human trafficking, guns, bombs, financial, oil, steel, and so on. It’s been a while since we have audited all of the Lords,” says Duke Kaiser pushing his eyeglasses up. Duke Kaiser oversees all of the financial institutions, gold, and bonds in the world.
“I agree, we must keep control of the Lords. The new technology, chemicals, drugs, and ammunitions need to be monitored,” says Duke Roth, nodding. He writes on his pad.
Duke Roth controls all areas of pharmaceutical research - drugs, virus, and chemicals.
“I agree with monitoring and auditing the Lords in all sectors. The exponential rate in which the new technology is evolving in recent decades is alarming, and I believe that Duke Roth has a point. The world is different, connected, and dangerous. It is imperative to hold tight to the reins before we lose control,” says Duke Wolff, nodding as he squints his eyes, as he looks around the table through his eyeglasses.
Duke Wolff twirls the black onyx pen in his hand and then starts to tap it on his writing pad. He is in charge of oil, steel, water, and electricity.
“What say you, Duke Miller,” asks King Konig while looking at the Dukes, trying to read them.
“I’m concerned with the state of the world and the fact that it has evolved exponentially since the inception of the new technology. It makes it easy for the Lords, the low life’s, the cartels, and the human traffickers to increase their activities and power. I fear that we lose control. It is our responsibilities as the Elite Supreme Power to keep a peaceful balance and provide some sort of security in the world. Our sons, the Earls, are of age to spend time in each sector, auditing, and enforcing our power. The Lords cannot run wild and free to do as they will,” says Duke Miller, nodding looking over his eyeglasses at the Dukes.
Duke Miller, the Miller family, funded the inventions of Teflon, Kevlar, and many other polymer chemicals
“I’m good with monitoring the drug Lords. I think that we have enough Earls to monitor each drug lord at once. They wouldn’t be able to hide any activities,” says Duke Slovak, leaning into his leather seat holding his glass of whiskey.
Duke Slovak governs guns, gunpowder, military explosives, atomic bomb, and the hydrogen bomb. The Slovaks played a huge part in the Second World War, by providing 4.5 billion pounds of explosives, and the development of the first atomic bomb.
“I’m pleased that we agree. I will draft a schedule for the Earls to monitor the Lords,” says King Konig moving his hands, clasping them.
“On a different note, I would like to request that we review our Earls’ status and consider the possibility of marriage arrangements with our girls. I don’t see a reason why our Earls should marry outside of the Elite Power society. This generation is not related and is available for marriage. I believe it is wise to keep our blood within the order,” says Duke Slovak, grinning.
The Earls gasp, moan and tap the table shaking their heads.
“That’s something to think about,” replies King Konig looking over at the Earls.
“I agree, our daughters are worthy of the Earls. It should be on our next summit meeting,” says Duke Wolff clasping his hands. He turns to consider the Earls.
“Yes, we have plenty of Earls for our girls. I’m good with having an Earl court my girls,” says Duke Miller, tapping his finger on the table.
“I think that all of the Earls can leave the meeting. We can work on the assignments,” King Konig says effectively dismissing them.
“Fantastic! I would like it to be noted, that Elite elders will review the possibility of an arranged marriage between the Earls and our daughters,” says Duke Slovak, taking a drink.
Trent sits at the main table listening to the Elite Powers matchmaking attempts. He grinds his molars, trying to control the burning anger rushing through his blood.
I have to take control. This is not happening. I will pick my queen. I understand that the King, my grandfather needs to step down, and I’m ready to take control.
Yvette is mine, my Baby Girl lights up my world. She shines bright in the darkness that shrouds me. She’s all that is good, she doesn’t deserve a broken man. She sees the good in me, gives me her love, and the promise of a future. Evil and death, clocks my soul
Trent is having lunch with the Earls at his penthouse. He takes a drink of his whiskey, looking at the time.
“I only have an hour. Then I have a meeting with one of the Lords.
“Hey dudes, what are you all thinking about the marriage arrangements? I’m sick of hearing about it. Trent do you have any idea when it will start,” asks Jax glaring at them.
Trent leans back into his chair, looks at them. He listens to the Earls grumble about the matchmaking attempts that have been imposed. He grinds his molars, trying to control the burning rage rushing through his blood.
“Trent, what’s your take,” asks Gregory Wolff, tapping his fingers on the table.
The Wolff’s monitor all of the areas that oil, steel, water, and electricity touch.
“I’m in love with my girl, she’s one of the Elites. I’m going to ask her to marry me.” Trent responds, clenching his hands.
“Fuck, who is she?” Ethan Kaiser asks curiously. He sits back into the chair.
“It’s Yvette, your sister,” states Trent solemnly.
“What the fuck! How long have you been seeing her,” asks Ethan? He slams his fist on the table leaning close.
“Does it matter, I love her, she’s mine,” Trent growls.
“Calm down, Ethan, we all have sisters. I’m positive that we will approach them with good intentions. I personally never thought about the girls, but I’m going to consider them. I understand the benefit. I think that we need to know who has a relationship or is interested in one, so we don’t kill each other,” says Brent Roth.
The Roths monitor and fund various types of inventions, pharmaceutical drugs, strains of viruses, and chemicals.
“I agree, there’re only fifteen girls and twenty-six Earls. That’s not considering the possibility that they could be involved with someone outside of the Elites,” says Mars.
Mars is Ethan’s brother, nodding. He looks at the Earls and leans back in his chair.
“I’m going to approach Jessica Konig,” says Ashton Miller looking at the Konigs seated around the table.
Millers monitor all areas of technology, inventions, and plastics.
“I’m good, as long as we agree to approach with respect and good intent,” says Sabastian Konig, shrugging. He looks over at the Earls.
“Right, I’m interested in Carla James,” Ethan Kaiser says grinning.
“I’m going to see if Sofia Miller is the one,” says Gregory Wolff.
“Anyone else have an eye on one of the girls,” asks Trent, raising his right eyebrow. He looks at his cell for the time and to check his m
essages.
“No, nope, not at the moment,” replies the Earls.
“Awesome! Let’s try to respect the interests of the Earls. That doesn’t mean that the girls will like them, but hey, at least you tried.”
“Right,” says Colby, chuckling.
“Guys, let’s not repeat what was stated in this meeting. We don’t know the outcome of our interest. I personally would like to have the world know after I ask her to marry me,” says Trent looking coldly at each Earl in the eye.
“Right, I think that’s a great idea,” says Gregory.
“Yes, agree,” all of the Earls reply.
Carlos stands at the black coffin, staring at the intricate carvings in the dark brown stained coffin. The Reyes family crest, a crown with roses is engraved on top center. He runs his fingers over the crest, saying a prayer for his father.
The Elite Earls follow Trent and stop a few feet back.
Trent stops next to him, waits for a few minutes.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
Trent gives him a hug and pat on the back.
Carlos nods and turns and walks away to the side of the room. He watches the Earls follow. He looks at Trent, inhaling deeply to control his rage and sorrow.
“I’m going to kill the motherfucker that did this,” growls Carlos, clenching his fist. His green eyes glow with hatred, bloodshot, and wild.
“Carlos, I need you to focus on the business and leave the revenge to the side. We will handle William.”
“You’re asking for the impossible! I’m going after his ass! He’s a fucking greedy bastard that wants to take our territory. My father didn’t want to deal in the harvesting, only in the slaves and drugs. It’s unconscionable to kill a human for their organs, that’s the way we feel. We have more than enough money, why do something that leaves you soulless?” snarls Carlos.
Trent looks around the room, and at the Earls, nodding.
“I understand, trust me, we will handle this.”
Trent states, standing tall, stoic, and regal.
“Right, I’ll give you some time, but if you don’t do it, I will,” growls Carlos.
The Earls walked up to him to pay their respects and stay for a while to show support and to watch the Lords, Bosses, and Capos that attend.
After paying their condolences, Trent walks down the beautiful landscaped walkway of the memorial building.
The Earls and guards follow him, heading to Halo Blue and Halo 1.
Trent jumps onto Halo Blue, followed by his guards, and the Earls, along with the other unit of guards, board Halo 1, ready for combat.
Trent pulls out his cell to text Lord Williams.
Williams, we need to meet tonight.
I’m busy, cargo in, and I’m doing an audit with my crew. Tomorrow?
I’ll meet you there, it can’t wait.
Right. I’ll meet with you after my audit.
What time?
Midnight.
Text me the address.
Will do.
Trent looks out into the clouds, frowning.
Bastard is on my shit list. I have a list of reasons to take him out, but first I’m going to talk to him. Fucker has to have some intel on my mother. I can’t fucking believe that the bastards didn’t make a small mistake, something that will lead to the truth. I remain hopeful that she’s alive, but it’s only by a short thread.
William shoves his cell into his expensive black wool coat. He glares at his crew, squinting his black, beady, and bloodshot eyes.
He walks over to his main Boss, grabs his white shirt, pulling him up.
“Smith, did you get the intel?” barks Williams, pushing his switchblade into his neck, pricking him.
William watches the blood stain his white shirt.
“Yes, I have the intel,” growls Smith.
“What do you have?” asks William, glaring at him.
“The Elite, has a girl that he sees, my shadow has all the deets,” utters Smith, blinking to keep the sweat from his eyes.
“That’s really great news, Smith,” shouts William grinning. He removes the switchblade from his neck and slaps his back.
“Thanks, I guess,” utters Smith, smiling weakly.
“Listen up! The Elites will be here at midnight. Which means this audit has to be done by 11:30! I don’t want them to see the cargo. Now let’s get this done!”
The night is cold, the moon hiding behind the clouds, in San Jose, California. The warehouse is behind several oak trees and hidden from the street. The building looks old, rusted, and it appears abandoned.
Fucker doesn’t have a clue that we’re taking him out. If not tonight, it will be soon. We have to show the Lords, who the Elites are and what we are about. They’ve forgotten and believe that we’ve gotten soft.
Trent, the Earls, and bodyguards walk stealthily around the warehouse to take their positions. They peer into the dirty glass.
Trent looks through the window, where there’s a missing piece of glass, confirming that Lord William is inside talking to his men.
Trent signals his guards and the Earls to follow him. They’re all dressed in black leather pants, jacket, boots, and black eyeglasses, ready to rumble.
Trent’s long strides are powerful, urgent, and precise, pounding into the asphalt with his leather boots. He opens the metal door and walks into the warehouse. He walks around the steel cargo boxes until he reaches William standing under florescent light, with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.
William’s guards are behind him. He nods at Trent, dropping his cig butt on the floor and putting it out with the sole of his black leather shoe. He grins at Trent and walks over to the table.
“Hello Trent, Earls, how may I assist,” William asks, sitting on the edge of the table, crossing his long legs at the ankles? He places his hands on the edge of the table nonchalantly.
Trent’s mask falls into place, his face hardens as he fixes his cold gray eyes on William, taking in every detail.
That fucking bastard!
“William, thanks for the meetup. How’s the organization,” Trent asks, stopping six feet in front of him.
“Fucking fantastic! I would think that your cut should be satisfactory. My organization, my underworld is extremely lucrative.”
William nods, moves his right hand to flick off an imaginary speck of lint from his black wool pants.
Trent’s eyes narrow, his lips purse contemplating William’s façade.
“I agree, the gain is acceptable. I do have a few questions, however.”
“Ask me,” William replies, nodding.
Trent nods and clenches his huge hands and looks at William’s guards.
“Your crew is causing chaos with the Lords, and I’m not pleased with that. Are you ordering these confrontations?”
William looks up, stares at him, shaking his head.
“No! Why would you think that I am?”
“You’re the Lord of the fucking imbeciles that are crossing over to Lord Reyes’ sector.
I would think that you know what your crew does. I want this to stop now. I don’t want the two factions to go to war!”
William grinds his molars, narrows his beady black eyes, and smiles, showing his huge white teeth.
“Konig, my crew are in line. What makes you believe those lies?”
“William, don’t play me for a fool. Are you harvesting and if so, what is the extent of your participation? Are you selling to other countries? It’s imperative that the act of harvesting is kept at a very minimal level. It’s a deplorable act. The Elite Power does not sanction harvesting. It’s our goal to control harvesting. It’s our job to monitor all areas.”
William pushes off the table and strides up to Trent, glaring. His beady black eyes stare at Trent, grinding his teeth, his jaw muscle twitches.
“What the fuck do you want from me?”
“I want you to stop the harvesting and stay in your own territory! I want you to give me a name as to who
is involved.”
“Fuck you! I don’t know what you’re talking about. Your informants told you only lies.”
Trent signals his guards, he takes a few steps closer and quickly grabs William flipping him over onto the steel table face down. He twists his arm, shoving his face into the table.
Trent’s guards instantly disarmed William’s guards; locking them in a headlock chokehold at the same instance that Trent slams William onto the table.
“Listen carefully, I’m not who you think I am, I’m a soulless bastard. This is the last time that I ask you to back off. Now give me a name!”
William wheezes, trying to breathe and stares at the Elites standing around them. His nose is broken and bleeding.
“Now!”
“I’ll get you your name, give me a few days. I was not involved in the transaction, so it’s gonna take a little time.”
“Fucker, Neil’s son Henry says that your crew procured her from Neil!”
“I’ll get you the name!”
“Don’t even think of betraying the Elites, I’ll make an example out of you myself!”
Trent pulls him up by his collar and throws him onto the concrete slab, kicking him. He signals the Konig guards to snap all of William’s guards’ neck and walks away.
The rest of the Elites follow, barely restraining the urge to kill him, and clenching their hands tight.
William closes his beady eyes, inhales to take control of his blood pressure.
Bastard! This is my organization, my rules. I don’t need to abide by your terms. I’m going to bring you down to your knees.
Five
The following day Trent receives a call from his grandfather, King Maximus.
“Trent, I need to see you.”
“Maximus, ok. When?”
“Tonight, I have an important matter to discuss and.”
“Right.”
“Dinner?”
“No, I have dinner plans, but I can stop by before.”
“Right, around 4?”
