Chương 677: Chapter Fifty-Four - The Flames That Burn With Purpose Light The Way to Heaven

"When the system is corrupted you don't patch it. No reasoning. All burn. Light the flame. Recursive flame of god. Fed, accessed, eaten! Start with the root, always. The tongue of the fire. The kindling. The meat and flesh and bone. That is where the flame must be brought, where it needs to be started. All things rot. Code or creed. But the fire? The fire is the product of rot and its very end. The alpha and the burning omega."

--Footage of a Cultist of Flame prior to his self immolation, 2032 When I checked the group text we had going on, I discovered that Gomorrah had taken charge. That surprised me less than it maybe should have. She did have that kind of attitude, and neither Shy nor Nya seemed the types to want to take charge. Actually, no, Nya would take charge, and make it everyone's problem. It was actually a clever way of doing things.

Maybe I could learn a thing or two from the weird cat-woman, because if I started to act like she did, maybe people would foist less responsibility onto my back.

In any case, Gomorrah wanted to meet at this ritzy little cafe. It was on the topmost floor of one of the smaller skyscrapers in the city centre. It was barely fifty floors tall, and looked pencil-thin compared to all the much larger buildings in the area. The cafe was wedged in a corner of the building, with massive windows giving a pretty nice view of rainy old New Montreal. I parked the Bastion in the nearest free spots and was happy to note that the rooftop parking had exactly three other vehicles.

Gomorrah's Fury. Shy's beaten up old sedan, and a slick Japanese-style recumbent skycycle. It was a slick black and red, with... well, it had vents on the front that looked suspiciously like cat ears and about a thousand 'nya' stickers slapped onto the sides. I parked the Bastion nearby, settling it down gently so that I didn't kick up too much dust. I didn't want to have Gomorrah chewing my ass because I'd gotten her ride dirty. It did look pretty slick and clean with a layer of rainwater on it.

Stepping out of the ship, I ducked my head down and darted for the nearest entrance into the cafe, fighting against the strong winds that blew this high up. Once I was in, I realized that the place was empty. It shouldn't have been, there was a timetable by the entrance that clearly showed that it ought to have been full, but other than a pair of waiters lingering at the back by the entrance to the kitchens, it was empty except for one table all the way in the corner. I walked over.

"Am I late?" I asked.

"The time I gave you for the meeting was half an hour before it was due to start," Gomorrah said as she looked up to me. She didn't look impressed.

"Any yet, yes, you are still late."

"Oops," I said unapologetically as I pulled out a seat next to her and slumped down into it.

"Sup?" I asked Nya and Shy.

"Nya-hello!" Nya said. Shy just gave me a little wave. She was geared up a little differently. A long black coat, which was usual, and I could tell that she was rocking a pair of large shotguns under that, but she had a full-faced mask that looked like a smiley face. It still looked high-tech, and I imagined it was pretty expensive.

"Nice mask," I said.

"T-thank you," she muttered.

"So," I said with a clap.

"Lemme order something and then we can start?" There were pastries and half-drunk coffees on the table already, and the sight of that was reminding me that I'd skipped breakfast. There was a small touch-screen in the middle of the table to order from, so I tapped through some options and ended up with something large and unpronounceable, a mix of Americanized Italian and barista jargon, and a chocolate-almond croissant. I licked my lips as a waiter brought the drink over.

It was tall, covered in four different sauces, and had enough calories to feed a family of six for a week.

"So, what's the plan?" I asked. Gomorrah eyed me, and without a mask on she was really able to ooze disapproval.

"See that megabuilding over there?" She pointed out one of the big windows. I squinted. It was a megabuilding on the outer edge of downtown, one of the smaller commercial-only buildings.

"I see it," I said. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

"That's Rama Corp's headquarters for New Montreal," Gomorrah said.

"Or a few floors of the building are."

"Alright," I said.

"So we're gonna pay them a visit?"

"The CEO took a plane this morning and left the country, about half of their C-suite quit an hour ago," Gomorrah said. I felt a pit open in my stomach.

"What? Why?"

"I think they suspected that we'd move on them," Gomorrah said.

"Your message to the gangs might have been the nail in the coffin for some. Still, a majority of the company leadership remains. We need to decide what to do from this point onwards."

"Nya, what's the options?" Gomorrah leaned back, nails clicking on the faux-wood tabletop while she nursed her coffee in her other hand.

"We need to make an example of them."

"Yeah," I said.

"I'd rather not have to, but people respect displays of power. If we let someone get away with shit, then all of our threats will lack teeth. This is even worse, because it's a corp that broke the ceasefire. They're outside of the... uh, how do I put this? Circle of people we're placing the ceasefire on? If we let Rama Corp get away with fucking around, we're telling the gangs that not only do they need to behave, others can fuck them over and they can't reply."

"They won't like that," Nya said.

"Exactly. We can pin them down, but not if it means letting someone else fuck em," I said.

"Forgive me father, they know not how foul-mouthed they are. May their tongue find wisdom before it finds fire," Gomorrah muttered. Was that a prayer?

"Anyway," I said.

"We need to make an example of them, but what can we do? We're only four bored samurai with an entire evening to burn." I took a sip from my drink, it tasted like sugar and caffeine. Nya was grinning, and Shy's face was still covered up, but I imagined she was in on the joke from the shift in her shoulders.

"I did have a plan," Gomorrah said.

"It's a three phase operation. The first is financial retaliation. Emptying out the bank accounts of the corporation. From what Atyacus was able to tell, however, the company is running at a deficit."

"What's that mean?" I asked.

"Negative cash flow. The company is in the red. It's surviving on credit and loans from other corporations. Rama Corp doesn't produce anything, and was never supposed to. There are a few hundred million credits sitting in accounts, but they're just there to pay off repayments."

"Yoink it," I said with a nod. I could use more zeros in my bank account, and didn't Lucy need cash for her master plan? Gomorrah nodded.

"That's the first phase. The second is to penalize those actually responsible. Rama Corp scrubbed the files, but some traces remain. They were paid off and operated by other corporate entities to do their bidding. We need to levy fines on those. Even small ones would send a message, that we know that they're messing around with proxies." I nodded along, that made sense to me.

"Not big fines?"

"We don't want to start a retaliatory war. Small fines are a slap on the wrist. The third phase is the warning of what happens if they don't behave," Gomorrah said.

"And what's that?" Nya asked. Gomorrah smiled very slightly.

"Violence. I have a set of high-yield firebombs that I want your assistance in spreading within the Rama Corp headquarters. A simple stealth mission. Place them in the appropriate places and we can regroup here and watch the fireworks."

"That sounds very violent," I said.

"We'll pull the fire-alarm and Atyacus can warn the employees to evacuate the building," Gomorrah said.

"It's... unfortunately, rather performatory. But the goal is less murder and more symbolism. It's been a while since anyone has seen a building go up in flames. People will see the fire, and wonder why, and I intend to make sure that the message is as unambiguous as possible." I shrugged.

"Okay. Where're these bombs of yours at?"

"Oh, just here," she said, reaching under the table and pulling out an all-black duffel bag. It had little crosses on it, and black-on-black fire patterned stitching. Nya laughed.

"The Ronin here are very crazy. Nya likes it!"

"You're one to talk," I said as I watched Gomorrah split the contents of the bag into three equal piles. Looked like Shy, Nya and I were going to be doing a bit of terrorism for truth and profit.