"Observe the plans within plans within plans."
-Frank Herbert
-Frank Herbert
The interior door of the chapel suddenly burst open, and several men walked in. The first few carried folding tables which they carefully deployed in the viewing area. They were followed by several others carrying tureens, pans, sacks, stacks of plates and silverware. These men wordlessly and efficiently set up a small self-service buffet before settling into positions around the room- positions that would afford them cover and lines on fire on entry points. Several of them kept their hands inside their coats.
Finally, in walked a man who most would describe as “dignified”. The splash of gray at his temples, the turtleneck under his tailored suit, his lean body, the easy way he carried himself- everything suggested a confident and self-assured man. He walked over to the meal service. “Bread,” he said, pointing to one covered pan. He tapped the next lightly. “Salad,” he explained, before pointing out the one next to it. “Coq au vin. My favorite. For beverages, we have coffee, mineral water, a selection of soft drinks. And for those of you with more particular tastes, we have made an accommodation, of course.” He whisked away the white cloth that had covered what proved to be a cage full of live mice. “I am Cesare, your host,” he said as he grabbed a plate and began to serve himself from the table. “Forgive the breach in etiquette by going first, but I do not wish for us to speak in an atmosphere of distrust.” Making sure to face the group, Cesare tore off a large chunk of bread, took a healthy bite with a broad grin. “Dig in, friends.”
As the group served itself, Cesare continued between bites. “Coq au vin is a bit of a strange dish. Chicken cooked in red wine. An unlikely pairing. If you walked into an old-fashioned restaurant and ordered a glass of red wine with chicken, they'd laugh at you. And yet, in this stew it works so well, so harmoniously, each giving the others strength.” He delicately dabbed at his lips with a linen napkin, took a long sip of mineral water before continuing.
“I imagine you're wondering what this insane foodie is talking about,” Cesare said with a self-deprecating grin. “I'll come to the point. Without going into too much detail, suffice to say that I represent an organization based in Chicago. The news of The Coalition is frankly quite alarming to us, as well as their intentions. They are contrary to our interests. We've made peace with several other groups in a similar line of work as us and chosen to pool our manpower and funds, but we're afraid even that may not be sufficient to counter The Coalition. We had to look beyond.”
Cesare leaned forwards. “And this, my friends, is where you come in. It took a great deal of convincing for the bosses to permit me to contact you. This thing of ours is a conservative organization, you know. No facial hair, no blue jeans, no women or homosexuals as members. But we are living in exceptional times and exceptional measures must be taken. Each of you are imminently qualified to be here. You have opposed members of The Coalition and remain free, proof positive of your talents. You know how they operate, how they fight, how they think. And of course, you are filled with hatred for them. What better motivation is there?” Cesare smiled. “Essentially, my organization wishes to bankroll an operation intended to put The Coalition and all of its members- permanently.”
Cesare got up and served himself a second helping of food, still continuing in his conversational tone. “However, we cannot pretend such an effort will be simple or quick. We still need time to prepare, and The Coalition may not allow us that courtesy.” He sat back down with his food and continued to eat voraciously, like he hadn't had the first serving. “Accordingly, we have a strategy to keep them busy and have them look elsewhere for the real threat. Julian Capizzi, the head of the St. Louis branch of this thing of ours, has offered himself up as a sacrificial lamb. He is leading a brave but doomed charge against The Coalition, and has accepted that this will most likely end with his imprisonment. But it has to look real, convincing. Capizzi has thus gone and hired several in your field. Bush league, for the most part. Vesuvius, Sleepyhead, Exceptional Karate Man Kobayashi, the Rad Fiddler, Madame LeThal, Stab Tank, Arena, Manticore. B-listers, all of them, but enough to be considered a potential threat. They all think that it only goes as high as Capizzi.” Cesare, finished his dish, pushed it aside.
“With the time that will buy us, we must organize and plan. At the moment, however, there are three small issues facing us. I would like for you to handle them, as a sign of good faith. Also, not to put too fine a point on it, to prove to the bosses in Chicago that you can be trusted.”
Cesare ticked the items off on his fingers. “One, we are negotiating a purchase of weapons this evening. Heavy-duty stuff, the kind that might even give pause to Joe Magarac or The Scholar. However, we have reason to suspect that our suppliers may attempt a double-cross. We need security for the transaction.”
“Second, there is a gentleman named Royale Patterson. He operates an extremely successful narcotics racket here in St. Louis and owes a great deal of his success to Mr. Capizzi. We have long considered him an honorary member of the family. Imagine our disappointment when Mr. Patterson refused to get involved in our plan.” Cesare shook his head, a look of affected sadness on his face. “Visit him in his home, make him see reason. He cannot sit out the war- if Mr. Patterson is not with us, he is against us.”
“Third and last, we have had an offer of friendship and cooperation from a gentleman known as Argus. A surveillance expert who operates out of Indianapolis. He claims to have discovered some helpful information about one of the members of The Coalition and is willing to sell, under the caveat we meet him in a public place. Speak with Argus, find out what he is offering, and negotiate a fair price.”
Cesare, finished, wiped at his lips once more. “There. Now, I have given you my confidence and shared our plans. It is up to you if you wish to follow them or not. Should you not desire revenge on your greatest enemy, then you are more than free to walk out the door,” he said with a wave to the exit.
“But remember, my friends- I found you once. I can do it again.”